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Campbell, in his poem of "Reullura," alludes to the married monks of Iona: "... The pure Culdees Were Albyn's earliest priests of God, Ere yet an island of her seas By foot of Saxon monk was trod, Long ere her churchmen by bigotry Were barred from holy wedlock's tie. 'Twas then that Aodh, famed afar, In lona preached the word with power, And Reullura, beauty's star, Was the partner of his bower."
They mounted to their nests again, though with difficulty because of their burdens, and in a minute were fast asleep. Lona retired to her tree. I lay where I was, and slept the better that I thought most likely the white leopardess was still somewhere in the wood. I woke soon after the sun, and lay pondering.
Then deceitful Queen Lona, who all these years had been longing vainly for a son, when she saw what mighty power the unknown faqir possessed, fell on the ground also, and begged for an heir to gladden the heart of Raja Salbahan. Then Puran Bhagat spoke, and his voice was stern, 'Raja Salbahan already has a son. Where is he? What have you done with him?
I stood alone in my library. As yet I have not found Lona, but Mara is much with me. She has taught me many things, and is teaching me more. Can it be that that last waking also was in the dream? that I am still in the chamber of death, asleep and dreaming, not yet ripe enough to wake? Or can it be that I did not go to sleep outright and heartily, and so have come awake too soon?
The film swept a little aside, and I saw the edge of it against her clearness the jagged outline of a bat-like wing, torn and hooked. Came a cold wind with a burning sting and Lilith was upon me. Her hands were still bound, but with her teeth she pulled from my shoulder the cloak Lona made for me, and fixed them in my flesh. I lay as one paralysed.
I confess that when this conclusion forced itself home upon me, I felt much dissatisfied with Lona, for I thought such a course unworthy of her. As I saw more of her I noted still greater changes in her character. As I had known her from childhood, she had been most uniform in her temper and her conduct; now all this was changed.
Once there lived a great Raja, whose name was Salabhan, and he had a Queen, by name Lona, who, though she wept and prayed at many a shrine, had never a child to gladden her eyes. After a long time, however, a son was promised to her.
I put forth my hand: it closed on the hand of Lona, firm and soft and deathless. "But, father," I cried, "she is warm!" "Your hand is as warm to hers. Cold is a thing unknown in our country. Neither she nor you are yet in the fields of home, but each to each is alive and warm and healthful." Then my heart was glad. But immediately supervened a sharp-stinging doubt.
Filled with anger they fell upon her multitudinously, beating her after a childish, yet sufficiently bewildering fashion. She would have fled, but a boy threw himself down and held her by the feet. Recovering her wits, she recognised in her assailants the children whose hospitality she sought, and at once yielded the baby. Lona appeared, and carried it away in her bosom.
His mission was one of revenge; mine one of love and justice; both have failed utterly since their object is dead. My pledge is broken! Q. In its letter, yes; but the chance is still left you to keep the spirit of your covenant. A. I do not understand you, Sahib. Q. I will explain. Lona Ragobah confided to you certain facts in explanation of her conduct toward John Darrow.
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