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They were sitting on the roof as of custom. The night was a warm one in early spring, and sheet-lightning was dancing on the horizon to a broken tune played by far-off thunder. Ameera settled herself in Holden's arms. 'The dry earth is lowing like a cow for the rain, and I I am afraid. It was not like this when we counted the stars.
The sky was heavy with clouds, for the long-deferred rains were near and the heat was stifling. Ameera's mother met him in the courtyard, whimpering, 'She is dying. She is nursing herself into death. She is all but dead. What shall I do, sahib? Ameera was lying in the room in which Tota had been born.
She made no sign when Holden entered, because the human soul is a very lonely thing and, when it is getting ready to go away, hides itself in a misty borderland where the living may not follow. The black cholera does its work quietly and without explanation. Ameera was being thrust out of life as though the Angel of Death had himself put his hand upon her.
The caged green parrot that is regarded as a sort of guardian-spirit in most native households moved on its perch and fluttered a drowsy wing. 'There is the answer, said Holden. 'Mian Mittu has spoken. He shall be the parrot. When he is ready he will talk mightily and run about. Mian Mittu is the parrot in thy in the Mussulman tongue, is it not? 'Why put me so far off? said Ameera fretfully.
'I have never seen that, said Ameera with a sigh, 'nor do I wish to see. Ahi! she dropped her head on Holden's shoulder, 'I have counted forty stars, and I am tired. Look at the child, love of my life, he is counting too. The baby was staring with round eyes at the dark of the heavens. Ameera placed him in Holden's arms, and he lay there without a cry.
'Keep nothing of mine, said Ameera. 'Take no hair from my head. SHE would make thee burn it later on. That flame I should feel. Lower! Stoop lower! Remember only that I was thine and bore thee a son. Though thou wed a white woman to-morrow, the pleasure of receiving in thy arms thy first son is taken from thee for ever.
He was a silent infant, and, almost before Holden could realise that he was in the world, developed into a small gold-coloured little god and unquestioned despot of the house overlooking the city. Those were months of absolute happiness to Holden and Ameera happiness withdrawn from the world, shut in behind the wooden gate that Pir Khan guarded.
Ameera climbed the narrow staircase that led to the flat roof. The child, placid and unwinking, lay in the hollow of her right arm, gorgeous in silver-fringed muslin with a small skull-cap on his head. Ameera wore all that she valued most.
It was a new voice, but it did not prove that Ameera was alive. 'Who is there? he called up the narrow brick staircase. There was a cry of delight from Ameera, and then the voice of the mother, tremulous with old age and pride 'We be two women and the man thy son.
The ever- present pain of loss drove him into his work, and the work repaid him by filling up his mind for nine or ten hours a day. Ameera sat alone in the house and brooded, but grew happier when she understood that Holden was more at ease, according to the custom of women. They touched happiness again, but this time with caution. 'It was because we loved Tota that he died.
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