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　among　the　trees；　and　that　was　much　better。　　That　was　the　true　place　to　meet　you。〃
  She　must　have　seen　me　walking　in　the　garden　without　my　seeing　her。　　For　the　last　few　clays；　however；　I　had　suffered　from　a　cold；　and　had　been　prevented　from　going　out。　　I　had；　perforce；　to　stay　indoors　and　pay　my　homage　to　the　evening　sky　from　my　terrace。　　After　a　silent　pause　the　Devotee　said　to　me：　〃O　my　God；　give　me　some　words　of　good。〃
  I　was　quite　unprepared　for　this　abrupt　request；　and　answered　her　on　the　spur　of　the　moment：　〃Good　words　I　neither　give　nor　receive。　　I　simply　open　my　eyes　and　keep　silence；　and　then　I　can　at　once　both　hear　and　see；　even　when　no　sound　is　uttered。　　Now；　while　I　am　looking　at　you；　it　is　as　good　as　listening　to　your　voice。〃
  The　Devotee　became　quite　excited　as　I　spoke；　and　exclaimed：　〃God　speaks　to　me；　not　only　with　His　mouth；　but　with　His　whole　body。〃
  I　said　to　her：　〃When　I　am　silent　I　can　listen　with　my　whole　body。　　I　have　come　away　from　Calcutta　here　to　listen　to　that　sound。〃
  The　Devotee　said：　〃Yes；　I　know　that；　and　therefore　1　have　come　here　to　sit　by　you。〃
  Before　taking　her　leave；　she　again　bowed　to　me；　and　touched　my　feet。　　I　could　see　that　she　was　distressed；　because　my　feet　were　covered。　　She　wished　them　to　be　bare。
  Early　next　morning　I　came　out；　and　sat　on　my　terrace　on　the　roof。　Beyond　the　line　of　trees　southward　I　could　see　the　open　country　chill　and　desolate。　　I　could　watch　the　sun　rising　over　the　sugar…cane　in　the　East；　beyond　the　clump　of　trees　at　the　side　of　the　village。　　Out　of　the　deep　shadow　of　those　dark　trees　the　village　road　suddenly　appeared。　It　stretched　forward；　winding　its　way　to　some　distant　villages　on　the　horizon；　till　it　was　lost　in　the　grey　of　the　mist。
  That　morning　it　was　difficult　to　say　whether　the　sun　had　risen　or　not。　A　white　fog　was　still　clinging　to　the　tops　of　the　trees。　　I　saw　the　Devotee　walking　through　the　blurred　dawn；　like　a　mist…wraith　of　the　morning　twilight。　　She　was　singing　her　chant　to　God；　and　sounding　her　cymbals。
  The　thick　haze　lifted　at　last；　and　the　sun；　like　the　kindly　grandsire　of　the　village；　took　his　seat　amid　all　the　work　that　was　going　on　in　home　and　field。
  When　I　had　just　settled　down　at　my　writing…table；　to　appease　the　hungry　appetite　of　my　editor　in　Calcutta；　there　came　a　sound　of　footsteps　on　the　stair；　and　the　Devotee；　humming　a　tune　to　herself；　entered；　and　bowed　before　me。　　I　lifted　my　head　from　my　papers。
  She　said　to　me：　〃My　God；　yesterday　I　took　as　sacred　food　what　was　left　over　from　your　meal。〃
  I　was　startled；　and　asked　her　how　she　could　do　that。
  〃Oh；〃　she　said；　〃I　waited　at　your　door　in　the　evening；　while　you　were　at　dinner；　and　took　some　food　from　your　plate　when　it　was　carried　out。〃
  This　was　a　surprise　to　me；　for　every　one　in　the　village　knew　that　I　had　been　to　Europe；　and　had　eaten　with　Europeans。　　I　was　a　vegetarian；　no　doubt；　but　the　sanctity　of　my　cook　would　not　bear　investigation；　and　the　orthodo