the man stood salaaming before me. It was strange that when she came,
dressed in white, he stopped in his salutation, and gazed at her in
what, I thought, was silent wonder.

She spoke earnestly to him, standing before him with clasped hands,
almost, I could think, in the attitude of a suppliant. The man listened
gravely, with only an interjection, now and again, and once he turned
and looked curiously at me. Then he spoke, evidently making some
announcement which she received with bowed head--and when he turned to
go with a grave salute, she performed a very singular ceremony, moving
slowly round him three times with clasped hands; keeping him always on
the right. He repaid it with the usual salaam and greeting of peace,
which he bestowed also on me, and then departed in deep meditation, his
eyes fixed on the ground. I ventured to ask what it all meant, and she
looked thoughtfully at me before replying.

"It was a strange thing. I fear you will not altogether understand,
but I will tell you what I can. That man though living here among
Mahomedans, is a Brahman from Benares, and, what is very rare in India,
a Buddhist. And when he saw me he believed he remembered me in a former
birth. The ceremony you saw me perform is one of honour in India. It was
his due."

"Did you remember him?" I knew my voice was incredulous.

"Very well. He has changed little but is further on the upward path. I
saw him with dread for he holds the memory of a great wrong I did. Yet
he told me a thing that has filled my heart with joy."

"Vanna-what is it?"

She had a clear uplifted look which startled me. There was suddenly a
chill air blowing between us.

"I must not tell you yet but you will know soon. He was a good man. I am
glad we have met."

She buried herself in writing in a small book I had noticed and longed
to look into, and no more was said.

We struck camp next day and trekked on towards Vernag--a rough march,
but one of great beauty, beneath the shade of forest trees, garlanded
with pale roses that climbed from bough to bough and tossed triumphant
wreaths into the uppermost blue.

In the afternoon thunder was flapping its wings far off in the mountains
and a little rain fell while we were lunching under a big tree. I was
considering anxiously how to shelter Vanna, when a farmer invited us to
his house--a scene of Biblical hospitality that delighted us both. He
led us up some break-neck little stairs to a large bare roo