“And this is the friend of my chela; and this, the woman?”
Rawder bowed.
“To-morrow, in the first light,” the Hindu said fervently, “my chela and I depart for the Hills where the Snows are—where none may follow. And you, man and woman, go back to the world.”
Noreen turned a quick glance from Routledge to Rawder. “Ask him,” she said swiftly to the latter, “if there is not a great work for us to do here in the Leper Valley!”
The face of the bravest man was frightened, ghastly, as he interpreted. The eyes of Routledge were fixed upon the woman as never before.
“No,” the Hindu said. “We have left our disciples here among the Chinese. The Valley will be sweetened by them. You, man and woman, have a greater work in the world, as my chela and I have a greater work—far above the world!”
Deep into the night the Three listened to the music of the fountain, in the pure ardor of the lilies; and there was a moment in which Rawder wept.... In the full light of morning, the Four were at the parting of their ways.
“Remember,” said the bravest man, “always, to you both, whom I have had the joy to make One, goes out constantly—the dearest of my heart—from the Hills or from the Stars!”
Routledge and Noreen watched, as he helped his Master—until the two were lost in the winding, rising trail. Then they looked down, a last time, upon the silence and sunrise which brooded upon the Leper Valley.
END.