"You see this?" he said.

Bathurst took it in his hand. "It looks like a bit sawn off a
telegraph pole," he said.

"Will you come outside, sahib?"

The night was very dark, but the lamp on the table threw its light
through the window onto the drive in front of the veranda. Rujub
took with him a piece of wood about nine inches square, with a soft
pad on the top. He went out in the drive and placed the piece of
pole upright, and laid the wood with the cushion on the top.

"Now will you stand in the veranda a while?"

Bathurst stood back by the side of the window so as not to interfere
with the passage of the light. Rabda stole forward and sat down
upon the cushion.

"Now watch, sahib."

Bathurst looked, and saw the block of wood apparently growing.
Gradually it rose until Rabda passed up beyond the light in the
room.

"You may come out," the juggler said, "but do not touch the pole.
If you do, it will cause a fall, which would be fatal to my child."

Bathurst stepped out and looked up. He could but just make out
the figure of Rabda, seemingly already higher than the top of the