Page:Frank Owen - The Wind That Tramps the World (1929).djvu/92

 Woo Ling-foh took Hwei-Ti's hand. "Come," he murmured, and together they set off down the Moon Road that swerved into the skies. Hwei-Ti's eyes were round with amazement. Could it be possible that they were walking into the very skies? Was he mad? Was even Woo Ling-foh but a figment of his distorted imagination? And yet there was a peace, a quietude about the occasion which was extremely beautiful. If it were madness it were better than his former state. Never had he known such complete tranquility.

Woo Ling-foh still held his arm. "Look clearly," he said softly, "and as your eyes grow accustomed to the azure light you will be able to make out the forms of houses and perhaps if you are able to sufficiently tune your vision, people also will be apparent to you."

The light was of queer intensity, blue that made one long to slumber, blue that was maddening in its beauty, blue that was like a soft caress. Here and there gray shadows loomed. Hwei-Ti sighed. He was at peace. Dimly through the mists he could see the outlines of houses, charming little houses with happy lanterns glowing in the windows. They were all of blue, not of one tone but of many, suggesting that they were really of variegated colors softened by a glaze of blue. It was very quiet in that strange city but not soundless. The solitude was restful. It was like a city in the deep hush of the morning before the birds had awakened or the flowers had unfolded to the dawn. Their footbeats made no sound as they passed along and it was