with the shifting of the sunshine, and at the far end, raised by steps
from the level of the floor, stood a throne, alone marked out against the
darkness by its bejeweled splendor. Of other furniture there was no
trace. To the left a divan formed of silken cushions had been built up for
temporary use, and on this, stretched full length on his side, lay an old
man whose furrowed visage appeared doubly dark and sinister beneath the
dead white of his turban. His head was half supported on a pillow, and
thus at his ease he watched with unblinking, unflagging attention the
tall, slight figure by the doorway.

It was the Rajah himself who had let in the one point of daylight. It fell
full upon his face and set into a brilliant blaze the single diamond on
the nervous, muscular hand which held the curtain aside. Apparently he had
forgotten his companion, and indeed everything save the scene on which his
eyes rested. Beneath the balcony, like steps to a mighty altar, broad and
beautiful terraces descended in stately gradations to a paradise of rare
exotic flowers, whose heavy perfume came drifting up on the calm air to
the very windows of the palace. This lovely chaos extended for about a
mile and then ended abruptly. As though cultivated nature had suddenly
broken loose from her artificial bounds, a dark jungle-forest rose up side
by side with the flowers and well-kept walks, and like a black stain
spread itself into the distance, swallowing up hill and valley until the
eye lost itself in the haze of the horizon. Within a few hundred yards of
the palace a ruined Hindu temple lifted its dome and crumbling towers into
the intense blue of the sky. And on garden, jungle, and temple alike the
scorching midday sun blazed down with pitiless impartiality.

For an hour the Rajah had remained watching the unchanging scene, scarcely
for an instant shifting his own position. One hand rested on his hip, the
other held back the curtain and supported him in a half-leaning attitude