coveted of the under life of Port Said. Strobo talked with glorious
gusto of his uncle the brigand. They were liberated men; we were
all liberated men. 'Let the direction go,' cried Armour, 'and give
the senses flight, taking the image as it comes, beating the air
with happy pinions.' He must have been talking of his work, but I
can not now remember. And what made Strobo say, of life and art, 'I
have waited for ten years and five thousand pounds--now my old
violin says, "Go, handle the ladle! Go, add up the account!"' And
did we really discuss the chances of ultimate salvation for souls in
the Secretariat? I know I lifted my glass once and cried, 'I, a
slave, drink to freedom!' and Rosario clinked with me. And Strobo
played wailing Hungarian airs with sudden little shakes of hopeless
laughter in them. I can not even now hear Naches without being
filled with the recollection of how certain bare branches in me that
night blossomed.

I walked alone down the hill and along the three miles to the Club,
and at every step the tide sank in me till it cast me on my
threshold at three in the morning, just the middle-aged shell of a
Secretary to the Government of India that I was when I set forth.
Next day when my head clerk brought me the files we avoided one
another's glances; and it was quite three weeks before I could bring
myself to address him with the dignity and distance prescribed for
his station as 'Mr.' Rosario.



Chapter 2.IX.

I went of course to Calcutta for the four winter months. Harris and