manifold forms of good and evil, pleasure and pain, in our life, were they not like the different materials out of which fireworks are made? They were collected and disposed carefully and skilfully with the sole object of being burnt to ashes some day. If then one could learn what lay on the other side of death, what, indeed, could be more profitable? It mattered little who gave us the news and in what form it came.
Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. I turned my head, but saw nothing except the darkness. There was nobody within sight. Shaking off my lethargy, I stood up and started, as I thought, in the direction of our encampment. I laughed as I remembered the incidents of the previous night and said to myself, 'No, no more sitting in the dark. Last night I felt a breath on my right ear; and now if the owner of the breath comes with designs on my left,—well, I shall hardly be in a condition to relish the joke!'
I had no idea how long I had been sitting by the lake, or what hour of the night it was: perhaps it was midnight. But what was this? I walked and walked, and yet the narrow footpath led on interminably. I could not see even a single light from our tents. For some time I had noticed a clump of bamboos in front of me, obstructing my view. 'Why,' I thought suddenly, 'I did not notice that when I came down. Have I lost my way?' Advancing a little further, I saw that it was not a clump of bamboos after all, but a few tamarind trees whose widespread branches, closely intertwined, deepened the gloom through which my path pursued its zigzag course. Under those trees it was so dark that I could not see my own hand. My heart began to beat fast. 'Where am I going?' I asked myself. Summoning up my courage,
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