And from without he could hear a chorus of a thousand voices, its
burden being, "The _Kurban_!"
Barlow turned, one foot in the sunshine and one in the cloister's
gloom, and kissed Bootea; and she could feel his hot tears upon her
cheek.
Once more he pleaded, "Renounce this dreadful sacrifice."
But the girl smiled up into his face, saying, "I die happily, husband.
Perhaps Indra will permit Bootea to come back in spirit to the Sahib."
The High Priest strode to the entrance of the cloister, his eyes
holding the abstraction of one moving in another world; he seemed
oblivious of the Englishman's presence as he said:
"Come forth, ye who seek _kailas_ through Omkar."
As Barlow staggered, almost blind, over the stony path from the
cloister, he saw the group of sixteen Brahmins, their foreheads and
arms carrying the white bars of Siva.
Then Bootea was led by the priest down to the cold merciless stone
Linga, where she, at a word from the priest, knelt in obeisance, a
barbaric outburst of music from horn and drum clamouring a salute.
When Bootea arose to her feet the priest tendered her some _mhowa_
spirit in a cocoanut shell, but the girl, disdaining its stimulation,
poured it in a libation upon the Linga.
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