to the steps, wound on a dry sheet, and came, all green and shivering, to claim a rupee for the feat. He dashed instantly out of sight, reappeared on the battlements, and made a second plummet drop into the well. Only the fact that those two dearly earned rupees assured him food for the day could ease one's conscience for aiding and abetting such inhuman sport. Two Scotch tourists, who had watched the cold plunger from the head of the steps, refused to pay a rupee apiece, or even one anna, to the "poor man with family to feed." We could hear them say that they had not engaged the man to jump, the ladies had arranged that. "But you saw me. You watched me. You all looked at me," howled the jumper, following them. And the Scotchmen said: "Those Americans can just pay more, then. We won't give you an anna. Jao!"
After the arctic drive back to Agra, we had time only for a cup of scalding tea before hurrying to the Taj to witness the most wonderful sunset of all, an amber afterglow illuminating every inner curve and recess and dispelling all shadows, the light seeming to radiate from the glowing marble, to emanate from the white surface itself. As if that six-mile pilgrimage, added to our forty-four-mile drive of the day, were not enough, the clear sparkle of the stars and the nipping air of that night suggested a different Taj, and after dinner we rattled down the Strand Road to see by moonlight such a glitteringly white, splendidly snowy frost-palace as we had not dreamed of finding in India.
We essayed a rainy day of rest, taking our ease
