Rajananda was coming closer with the thought. All was well with Turgim; well with Nadiram; the desert slept in its great peace. Alone of the earth, the heart of man faltered and fell short of perfection. Black misery brooded over the heart of man; soon he, Rajananda, would pass forth from this misery, but the sufferings of the sons of men swiftly again would call him back. This coming by camel was but a symbol of his entrance by the dark way of woman’s womb into the world of men again....
Romney heard the words. It was that queer listening on his part, to meanings that would unfold and become clearer afterward. Something of beauty and order came to him from the old master’s presence. Rajananda now appeared to see the white man as one detached from the rest. Romney bent closer to the face in the hollow of his arm.
"There was a woman," the saint observed. "Once, before you came, she rested my head and filled my bowl in the stone square at Nadiram."
"They have taken her away from me. It was this morning, Father, two parties separating after the halt in the night. It was the hour of our mating. We were journeying on to Wampli together—"
Romney spoke softly. His voice surprised himself, for it was steady and sane.
"I am listening, for you to help me," he added in the silence.
Rajananda seemed to sleep. Romney held himself with such tensity that sweat came to his face.
"You have met. You will meet again. Nothing is lost. Man cannot put asunder that which Holy Breath has joined together. Man goes alone to the Sanctuary, and woman waits. In going alone, the man is strengthened; in waiting, the woman is purified.... And now you will sleep. Rajananda, your father, will be here beside you, and these, my desert children, will watch over us through the night."
The ancient withered hand swept slowly from one to another of the Dugpas. All had turned at the sound of Rajananda’s voice. Each man bowed low as he was designated. Romney felt that sleep was utterly gone from him. And yet the night passed without breaking him—a kind of passage from one numbed dream to another.... Rajananda journeyed on with them the next morning, the dromedary abreast, held to the slower pace of the white man’s beast. Questions came often to the white man, but his awe of the old priest forbade. Rajananda talked when he was ready. As the day rose, Romney met the brazen curtain again.