What is this terrible figure advancing? A huge snow-white serpent, a hundred feet long, fierce fiery red eyes glaring from out the voluminous coils of its luminous body, as it writhes on its slow onward course in pursuance of a great rolling ball of light.

The Burmese excitement could stand no more. Springing from their heels, they rushed down from the verandah to greet the apparition with dance and shout like the rest. They ran, shrieking with admiration, along with the multitude, and Kirke was left alone.

It was an opportunity not to be missed. All Moulmein and the country side about it were in the streets, his figure would be unnoticed among the rest; he arose hastily, and ran out from the guardhouse into the town, where the brilliancy of lights in some parts made the obscurity deeper than ever in others.

No one observed him, no one spoke to him; he hastened along at his greatest speed, at first mixing with the people, then choosing the quieter places, fearing lest any English should see him and recognise him. Everyone was, however, attracted by the gay sights around; the English residents were chiefly in their own bungalows, watching the processions from their own verandahs, and distributing gifts as the various groups paused before each house to display themselves. No one thought of him, and he stole along in the darkness out into the vast misty unknown country beyond the town, unperceived.

When the processions had all reached the great pagoda; when the mystery play was over; when the old legend of Guadama being nourished by the sacred milk was acted out; when all were tired, the lights out, the crowds dispersed, the fun over,—the guards bethought them of their trust, and returned to take it up again.

In dismay unutterable they found their bird was flown, nor could he be found anywhere. In great alarm they made up the best story they could for the Commissioner's ears; and, to their wonder, found him strangely lenient to their misdemeanour. In truth, the great man was thus relieved from a dilemma; he pretended as much wrath as the carelessness of the guard deserved, but was almost grateful to them in his heart.

A search was instituted for the prisoner; but not very vigorously prosecuted, and soon abandoned when no signs of him could be discovered.


[CHAPTER IX]
NEWS FROM RALPH