II
Days passed. More wings were added to his palace—more lands to his domain.
The season of rains came to an end. The dark clouds became white and thin, and in the rain-washed sky the sunny hours hovered like butterflies over an unseen flower. I was bewildered and asked everybody I met, "What is that music in the breeze?"
A tramp walked the road whose dress was wild as his manner; he said, "Hark to the music of the Coming!"
I cannot tell why I was convinced, but the words broke from me, "We have not much longer to wait."
"It is close at hand," said the mad man.
I went to the office and boldly said to Mind, "Stop all work!"
Mind asked, "Have you any news?"
"Yes," I answered, "News of the Coming." But I could not explain.
Mind shook his head and said, "There are neither banners nor pageantry!"