“But to return to my story,” continued the Nawab, “the sprite waving her arms beckoned the king to follow her, and led the way towards the river’s mouth.  It entered the lake only a short distance from where they were.  The king experienced a poignant grief when for a moment he feared that, unable to follow her, he must forever lose sight of his beauteous visitant.  But in another instant he was stepping into a tiny skiff which suddenly appeared where a moment before had floated a lily.  The magical craft followed its spirit guide, moving against the tide, impelled by unseen power, and ever and anon the sprite beckoned him onward.  Soon they entered the river, which here was deep, broad, and smoothly flowing.  Motion ceased when they were under a high overhanging bank whose drooping foliage screened them from view.  Here his guide again spoke: 

     “’Ask and ye hear, O king, ’tis meet
     That mortal want should be replete
     From fulness of immortal state.’

“At once his soul’s sadness found voice and he cried: 

“’Tell me how may my increase in virtue resemble this river in its onward flow?’

“Then the spirit answered: 

     “’From veiled spring that river sweeps
       Whose swelling tides in glory
     Roll onward to th’ infinite deeps,
       It is the soul’s own story.’

“Again she beckoned him on, and without effort of his own he glided over the water until they paused again where a lotus flower rested on the tide.  The bees clustered around it, attesting its sweetness, and when the king bent over it and breathed its odour he cried: 

“’Ah, how shall my piety be pure like the lotus, and the savour of my virtues spread abroad?’

“And again the sprite replied: 

     “’Fairest flowers bloom unseen,
       Graces that are manifest
     Are of largess less serene;
       Ever veiled things are best.’

“When the eve deepened they were in a forest, a single star overhead shone through the gloom, and was reflected in the water.  Looking upward the king asked for the third time: 

“‘How shall the days of my life be glorious and shine like the stars?’

“Ere she plunged beneath the flood to vanish forever, his guide answered: 

     “’Love, like the star, the shade of eve,
       Seclusion, heavenly rest,
     And calm, for these things interweave
       The bowers of the Blest?’

“The king was now at the river’s secret source, and on the bank above the deep pool he saw a man of a more princely aspect than any he had ever known.  He stood grand and divine, extending his hand with a most benignant smile, and the story goes that the king perceived that he held a luminous gem, some say a diamond and some an emerald—­both stones, as has often been proved, having magical potency.  I cannot tell what it was, but the king reached out his own hand to touch it, when instantly, he knew not how, it seemed that something, a Resolve, a Desire, who can say what, went from him into the bright orb, bearing which the creature of light arose through the air, ascending higher and higher, bearing the jewel which shone like the everlasting stars.  And the king knew that his soul’s life had gone to other regions beyond the knowledge and speech of men.