In this islet world we lay at anchor for the night.
"Do you know what it is," he asked, "to have a word color
the whole day long?" He glanced around, but none was
very near. "My Word to-day is _magic_. I'd not give it to
any but you, and I drop my voice in saying it. I'll sail on
through magic and against magic, for I have Help from
Above! But I'll not lay a fearsome word among those who
are not so accorded! All say India hath high magic, and
the Grand Khan takes from that country his astrologers
and sorcerers. I have read that at Shandu, if there be long
raining, they will mount a tower by the palace and wave it
back, so that the falling rain makes but a pleasant wall
around the king's fair garden that itself rests in sunshine.
Also that without touching them they cause the golden
flagons to fill with red wine and to move through air, with
no hand upon them, to the king's table. That was long ago.
We have had no news of them of late. They may do now
more marvelous, vaster things."
"And the moral?"
"I said, `They do them there.' Perhaps this is there."
"I take you!" I said and half-laughed. "We may be in
Cathay all this while, under the golden roofs, with the bells
strung from the eaves. Yonder line of cranes standing in
the shallow water, watching us, may, God wot, be tall magicians
in white linen and scarlet silk!"
He crossed himself.
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