THE SLAVE GIRL OF AGRA
On earth I may not meet her again, but her kindness will live in my memory."
A long pause ensued. There was a tremor in the strange voice of Jamshid when he spoke.
"And she, too, hath not forgotten. As the moth pursues the flame, she hath followed you, unseen and unknown, over hill and dale, through town and forest. A woman's heart beats even under the livery of a slave, a woman's faith abides. She thirsted to know more, and to-night she knows it. Kismet severs, and Kismet is all-powerful. Kismet severs you, too, from her you seek, whom you will find in the Golden Temple of Mathura on the festive night of the full moon. Cherish her in memory alone, as Jelekha will cherish a memory in her native mountains. She parts, but a Tartar never forgets a kindness, and Jelekha will not forget—a friend. Farewell!"
Noren started at the voice, which was a woman's voice he had heard before. But the tent was silent and dark. Jamshid had gone.
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