He pointed easily to a pair of man's shoes which stood in a corner beside the door. "Smagdarite's, sister! Ah I have your secret. He is here, for yonder are his shoes!"
Âtma's eyes following his, grew puzzled in their anger.
"Shoes!" she echoed superbly. "I see them not, my lord."
This time the laugh came more coarsely. "None so blind as the blind beggar! Bah! woman, do I not know what woman is? He is here I say--hath been here always, and thou didst delude me last time with the child's voice."
He paused, for suddenly a tremulous sweet song as of some mating bird rose on the air.
My singing soul has its nest
Near the great white Throne
Where the roses of Paradise rest
On its Corner Stone,
And the scent of those roses seems
To bring idle dreams
Of Life and Love and the Endless Quest.
Oh bird! arise
Lift up thine eyes
To the Heaven that lies
Beyond Paradise.
Once again the man who doubted all things felt a thrill almost of fear; but Fate promptly gave him back his self-confidence, for a voice behind him said as the song ceased.
"If my lord seeks me, I seek my lord."
He turned to find the rebeck player on the threshold; but with bare feet. So the cynical laughter rang out this time in frank amusement. "Well designed, musician! But the shoes lie yonder." And then he hummed gaily the refrain of a popular song.