Then my duties claimed me. Despite the Colonel's coolness, the party began to drift away to preparations, their measure of responsibility shown by the order of their going, until only a dozen or so of lighthearted youngsters were left for another and yet another waltz, the prime instigator of delay being, of course, young Bertram.
I never saw the lad look better. An almost reckless vitality seemed to radiate from and invade the still scented peace of the whole garden.
I found myself trying to evade it by wandering off to the furthest, stillest corner, where I could smoke in peace till called on finally to say good-night--or good-morning--to my guests.
I must have fallen asleep in one of the latticed minarets, and slept long, for when I woke a grey radiance was in the sky that showed above the scented orange trees. Dawn was breaking, the garden held no sound save a faint rustle as of leaves. And not a sign remained of Western intrusion. The swiftness of Indian service had taken away as it had brought. As I made my way to where we had danced and supped, the immediate past seemed a dream, and I strained my eyes into the starred shadows of the jasmine thicket half expecting to see a white veil creeping like a snake.
What was that? I had no time to find fancy or fact--my eyes had caught sight of something unmistakable at the foot of the marble pedestal.
It was young Bertram.
He was lying as if asleep, his cheek caressing the battered bronze ball that he had encircled with his arms.
His face turned up to the stars showed nothing but content.
* * * * *
He must have stayed on after the others had gone, probably to think things out--the legend of appeal must have drawn him back to the very spot where the snake charmer's basket had been upset--like it had to me, the fragrant peace must have brought to his weariness sleep.