than the top of the bungalow.
Gradually it became more and more indistinct.

"You are there, Rabda?" her father said.

"I am here, father!" and the voice seemed to come from a considerable
distance.

Again and again the question was asked, and the answer became fainter
and fainter, although it sounded as if it was a distant cry in response
to Rujub's shout rather than spoken in an ordinary voice.

At last no response was heard.

"Now it shall descend," the juggler said.

Two or three minutes passed, and then Bathurst, who was staring up into
the darkness, could make out the end of the pole with the seat upon
it, but Rabda was no longer there. Rapidly it sank, until it stood its
original height on the ground.

"Where is Rabda?" Bathurst exclaimed.

"She is here, my lord," and as he spoke Rabda rose from a sitting
position on the balcony close to Bathurst.

"It is marvelous!" the latter exclaimed. "I have heard of that feat
before, but have never seen it. May I take up that piece of wood?"

"Assuredly, sahib."

Bathurst took it up and carried it to the light. It was undoubtedly,
as he had before supposed, a piece of solid wood. The juggler had not
touched it, or he would have supposed he might have substituted for the
piece he first examined a sort of telescope of thin sheets of steel, but
even that would not have accounted for Rabda's disappearance.

"I will show you one other feat, my lord."

He took a brass dish, placed a few pieces of wood and charcoal in it,
struck a match, and set the wood on fire, and then fanned it until the
wood had burned out, and the charcoal was in a glow; then he sprinkled
some powder upon it, and a dense white smoke rose.

"Now turn out the lamp, sahib."

Bathurst did so. The glow of the charcoal enabled him still to see the
light smoke; this seemed to him to become clearer and clearer.

"Now for the past!" Rujub said. The smoke grew brighter and brighter,
and mixed with flashes of color; presently Bathurst saw clearly an
Indian scene. A village stood on a crest, jets of smoke darted up
from between the houses, and then a line of troops in scarlet uniform
advanced against the village, firing as they went. They paused for a
moment, and then with a rush went at the village and disappeared in the
smoke over the crest.

"Good Heavens," Bathurst muttered, "it is the battle of Chillianwalla!"

"The future!" Rujub said, and the colors on the smoke changed. Bathurst
saw a wall