Page:Doughty--Mirrikh or A woman from Mars.djvu/164

 His words produced their effect, for they brought me to a realizing sense of the fact that if I meant to stay by Maurice I had to keep in the good graces of the powers which  controlled the lamasery. There was Walla, too! Had I forgotten her?

Yes, Walla was there. When I looked around I saw her.

She lay crouched all in a heap at the foot of the altar where she had first flung herself.

In an instant I was at her side and strove to take her in my arms, but she repulsed me. Murmuring some broken words in an unknown tongue, she pushed me away.

I staggered back and stared around the place. Again that strange magnetic current went darting through my  brain.

Behind her kneeled old Padma, turning a silver prayer wheel, its monotonous click ringing out sharply in the stillness. The body of the adept, however, had disappeared.

I passed my hand before my eyes as though that would banish the strange sensations which were oppressing me. “I must be calm,” I reflected. “I must restrain myself and act only for the best.”

“Oh Jerusalem! If I only had a smoke!” groaned the Doctor. “It might steady my nerves a bit. Would you think me a perfect ghoul if I felt in Maurice’s pocket for  his tobacco bag, Wylde? There’s his flask, too.”

“There is no necessity. He gave both to me this morning to give to you,” I answered, producing the articles in question.

“Laus Deo. The country is safe! Give me just one moment to fire up and I’ll argue with you for the rest of the night.”

He filled the pipe with a hand which trembled visibly. He was badly shaken, no doubt of that, but he seemed to revive after a pull at the flask.

Meanwhile I stood stroking back the curls from Maurice’s brow, dreaming. Picture after picture presented itself before me with a vividness that made me almost wonder why I  doubted the sincerity of those who claim clairvoyant sight.

I was back at Swatow. For an instant I even thought my wife stood before me, holding in her arms the babe we had  buried on the other side of the globe. I was on the steamer—I saw Maurice, as I had first seen him; careless, gay and handsome. I was in the old consulate at Panompin—we