BOOK III.
IN UNUM DUO.
CHAPTER XVII.
A VISIT FROM MAURICE.
Ah! with what different sensations one views the mighty events of life after the lapse of years. Happenings which at the time seemed most momentous have dwindled into insignificance; seeming calamities are known to have been blessings; mighty problems, then apparently impossible of solution, are now seen as but trifles to be easily brushed away.
In some such way I look back upon my Thibetan experiences; but the time has not yet come when I can think calmly of the sight upon which my eyes rested as I gazed from the old, grey tower of the lamasery of Psam-dagong, when after that night of terror, the sunlight came at last. We were all there—all but Maurice. Where he was God alone could tell. The Doctor and I stood together looking over the parapet; old Padma paced up and down, grinding his infernal prayer wheel; Ni-fan-lu and his brother lamas were there with other prayer wheels; Ah Schow was there, taking in the situation with all the stoical indifference of his race. Walla Benjow was there also. She stood apart, white and silent, gazing upon the mighty sweep of water which surrounded the lamasery on every side. Thus it will be seen that the worst had happened and nothing remained for us but to bravely face the situation. Then, as never before, I admired the Doctor’s perfect self-possession. Though I knew the man to be utterly selfish, I now leaned upon him as a tower of strength, for he could talk to these strange people and I could not.
“It is right about there the lake is, Wylde,” he said, point-
