He leapt to his feet, smiting his forehead with clenched hand.
"Give me a sign, O Kali! Show me that thou art pleased!"
And he rent his garments in joy, showing the bronze breast with the blood-red marks of his terrible religion traced upon it; then thrusting his fingers in his ears sank to the ground and buried his head between his knees.
A black kid, the happiest of all good omens, bleating with hunger, tripped and stumbled from a courtyard; yet even as it found its mother and buried its little head in the warmth of the soft side, there had come across the plains a weird, long-drawn-out sound, fraught with disaster to those who believe in signs.
Long and shrill it sounded and ceased; and once again—to be lost in peals of indecent, discordant laughter.
Uncontrolled, uncontrollable, loathesome sound which tears India's nights to shreds.
The jackals had found at dawn.
CHAPTER XIII
"A continual dripping in a very rainy day and a contentious woman are alike."—The Bible.
In the late spring Leonie stood at a cottage window watching the rush of the incoming water as she listened to her aunt's ceaseless lament, idly wondering if both would reach high tide together, and if there would be any chance of slipping out for a swim before bedtime.