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of a new life。
VII
And； though the tide was full； there …was a pause as though the rising waters would not break into foam but remain suspended for ever。 There were no outspoken words； only a cautious going forward one step and receding two。 All seemed busy heaping up their unfulfilled desires like castles in the air； or fortresses of sand。 They were pale and speechless； their eyes were burning； their lips trembling with unspoken secrets。
The Prince saw what was wrong。 He summoned every one on the Island and said： 〃Bring hither the flutes and the cymbals； the pipes and drums。 Let all be played together； and raise loud shouts of rejoicing。 For the Queen of Hearts this very night is going to choose her Mate ！〃
So the Tens and Nines began to blow on their flutes and pipes； the Eights and Sevens played on their sackbuts and viols； and even the Twos and Threes began to beat madly on their drums。
When this tumultous gust of music came； it swept away at one blast all those sighings and mopings。 And then what a torrent of laughter and words poured forth！ There were daring proposals and locking refusals； and gossip and chatter； and jests and merriment。 It was like the swaying and shaking； and rustling and soughing； in a summer gale； of a million leaves and branches in the depth of the primeval forest。
But the Queen of Hearts； in a rose…red robe； sat silent in the shadow of her secret bower； and listened to the great uproarious sound of music and mirth； that came floating towards her。 She shut her eyes； and dreamt her dream of lore。 And when she opened them she found the Prince seated on the ground before her gazing up at her face。 And she covered her eyes with both hands； and shrank back quivering with an inward tumult of joy。
And the Prince passed the whole day alone； walking by the side of the surging sea。 He carried in his mind that startled look； that shrinking gesture of the Queen； and his heart beat high with hope。
That night the serried； gaily…dressed ranks of young men and maidens waited with smiling faces at the Palace Gates。 The Palace Hall was lighted with fairy lamps and festooned with the flowers of spring。 Slowly the Queen of Hearts entered； and the whole assembly rose to greet her。 With a jasmine garland in her hand； she stood before the Prince with downcast eyes。 In her lowly bashfulness she could hardly raise the garland to the neck of the Mate she had chosen。 But the Prince bowed his head； and the garland slipped to its place。 The assembly of youths and maidens had waited her choice with eager； expectant hush。 And when the choice was made； the whole vast concourse rocked and swayed with a tumult of wild delight。 And the sound of their shouts was heard in every part of the island； and by ships far out at sea。 Never had such a shout been raised in the Kingdom of Cards before。
And they carried the Prince and his Bride； and seated them on the throne； and crowned them then and there in the Ancient Island of Cards。
And the sorrowing Mother Queen； on the 'far…off island shore on the other side of the sea； came sailing to her son's new kingdom in a ship adorned with gold。
And the citizens are no longer regulated according to the Rules； but are good or bad； or both； according to their Ichcha。
THE DEVOTEE
At a time； when my unpopularity with a part of my readers had reached the nadir of its glory； and my name had become the central orb of the journals； to be attended through space with a perpetual rotation of revilement； I felt the necessity to retire to some quiet place and endeavour to forget my own existence。
I have a house in the country some miles away from Calcutta； where I can remain unknown and unmolested。 The villagers there have not； as yet； come to any conclusion about me。 They know I am no mere holiday…maker or pleasure…seeker； for I never outrage the silence of the village nights with the riotous noises of the city。 Nor do they regard me as ascetic； because the little acquaintance they have of me carries the savour of comfort about it。 I am not； to them； a traveller； for； though I am a vagabond by nature； my wandering through the village fields is aimless。 They are hardly even quite certain whether I am married or single； for they have never seen me with my children。 So； not being able to classify me in any animal or vegetable kingdom that they know； they have long since given me up and left me stolidly alone。
But quite lately I have come to know that there is one person in the village who is deeply interested in me。 Our acquaintance began on a sultry afternoon in July。 There had been rain all the morning； and the air was still wet and heavy with mist； like eyelids when weeping is over。
I sat lazily watching a dappled cow grazing on the high bank of the river。 The afternoon sun was playing on her glossy hide。 The simple beauty of this dress of light made me wonder idly at man's deliberate waste of money in setting up tailors' shops to deprive his own skin of its natural clothing。
While I was thus watching and lazily musing； a woman of middle age came and prostrated herself before me； touching the ground with her forehead。 She carried in her robe some bunches of flowers； one of which she offered to me with folded hands。 She said to me； as she offered it： 〃This is an offering to my God。〃
She went away。 I was so taken aback as she uttered these words； that I could hardly catch a glimpse of her before she was gone。 The whole incident was entirely simple； but it left a deep impression on my mind； and as I turned back once more to look at the cattle in the field； the zest of life in the cow； who was munching the lush grass with deep breaths； while she whisked off the flies； appeared to me fraught with mystery。 My readers may laugh at my foolishness； but my heart was full of adoration。 I offered my worship to the pure joy of living； which is God's own life。 Then； plucking a tender shoot from the mango tree； I fed the cow with it from my own hand； and as I did this I had the satisfaction of having pleased my God。
The next year when I returned to the village it was February。 The cold season still lingered on。 The morning sun came into my room； and I was grateful for its warmth。 I was writing； when the servant came to tell me that a devotee； of the Vishnu cult； wanted to see me。 I told him； in an absent way； to bring her upstairs； and went on with my writing。 The Devotee came in； and bowed to me； touching my feet。 I found that she was the same woman whom I had met； for a brief moment； a year ago。
I was able now to examine her more closely。 She was past that age when one asks the question whether a woman is beautiful or not。 Her stature was above the ordinary height； and she was strongly built； but her body was slightly bent owing to her constant attitude of veneration。 Her manner had nothing shrinking about it。 The most remarkable of her features were her two eyes。 They seemed to have a penetrating power which could make distance near。
With those two large eyes of hers； she seemed to push me as she entered。
〃What is this？〃 she asked。 〃Why have you brought me here before your throne； my God？ I used to see you amon