Leonie of the Jungle Part 46

"Yes!" she repeated. "You called me! What is it you desire?"

She made a little gesture inviting him to sit beside her, and he sank to the ground, lying p.r.o.ne at her knees with his chin in his hands, staring straight into the green eyes which shone strangely, and looked at him unblinkingly.

"Tell me what you think of me," he said, speaking in the merest whisper out of the depth of his love. "Tell me, and I will tell you what I think of you--thou lotus bud," he finished desperately in his own tongue.

Leonie answered in the sweetest, purest Hindustani, using the beautiful strange metaphors of India to describe the human body.

"Thou art," she said. "Thou art--how can I tell thee I----"

She stopped, laughing down at him as she put both hands out on a level with her chin, palm upwards, towards him, in a little supplicating gesture.

"_Tell_ me!"

"Behold," she said softly as she pa.s.sed the tips of her fingers from his forehead to his chin. "Behold is thy face softly rounded like the egg of a bird, and thy brow is even as a tautened bow----"

A great tremor shook the man at the touch of her hand, but he made no movement as he broke across her words.

"And thy face so fair, so dear, is even like the _pan_ leaf, and thy dark brows like the _neem_ leaf disturbed by the wind, when thou art displeased with him who so loveth thee. Yet when thou art not angry, are thy drooping lids like the water-lily in their sweet repose. Thy ears, those can I not see--ah!"

Leonie laughed softly as the very tips of her fingers pa.s.sed down the side of his face.

"And thine are like vultures with drooping head, and thy nose----"

"Thine," he interrupted, twisting his head to evade the exquisite agony of her touch, "is like a _sesame_ flower, and thy nostrils even unto the seed of the barbarti, and thy lips--oh! thy lips are the _bandihuli_ flower."

He raised his face with agony in his eyes, closing them as she lightly touched his mouth.

"_Thy_ mouth is even as the _bimba_ fruit, which is warm and soft, and thy chin is like a mango stone, and thy neck like unto a conch sh.e.l.l which I encircle with both hands."

She spanned his neck with the outspread thumbs and little fingers of both hands, and laughed as he pulled them apart and buried his face in his arms.

"Dost fear?" she said. "Dost fear that I shall strangle thee? _Dost fear_?" she repeated with a certain sharp note in the voice which caused the man to look up quickly and straight into her eyes, upon which she laughed quietly.

"Tell me," he insisted gently, "tell me what thou thinkest of me!"

"Ah!" she whispered, "thy shoulders are like the head of an elephant and thy long arms are as the trunk, and the strength of thy breast is even as that of a fastened door--which love perchance may open," the heavy lids half-closed over her eyes as she slowly drew the finger-tips of both hands down towards the slim waist, and the man's teeth drew blood from his under lip.

"Thy middle is like a lion's, so slender is it, and----"

He stopped her fiercely as he twisted on to his right elbow and seized both her hands in his left.

"And the suppleness of thy arms, and the softness of thy limbs are like the young _plaintain_ tree, and thy fingers are the buds of the _champaka_ flower." He spoke rapidly, crus.h.i.+ng her hands cruelly.

"The bone of thy knee showing whitely through thy garment is shaped even as the sh.e.l.l of a crab, and the whiteness of the bone from thy knee to thy slender ankle is like a full-roed fish----"

"And thy feet and thy hands, O Lord, are as the young leaves of plants!"

To which he replied through the teeth that were closed.

"And thine so small, so dear, are as lotus buds--lotus buds swaying at dawn in the wind of love."

She smiled divinely as she stretched one perfect bare foot from under her garment, and bent her head to catch the words as he pa.s.sionately whispered the Vega hymn.

"Want thou the body of me, the feet; want thou the eyes; want the thighs; let the eyes, the hair of thee, desiring me, dry up in love.

"I make thee cling to my arm, cling to my heart; that thou mayest be in my power, come unto my intent.

"They----"

He stopped, convulsed with pa.s.sion, and bending kissed her feet.

"Ah! thy hands, thy feet, are like lotus buds--lotus buds which I love, even if they be drenched in blood."

He leapt to his feet and caught Leonie's wrist in the vice of his hand as she sprang upright in one movement, laughing as she pointed at his mouth.

"Blood," she whispered, "blood--it is warm--it drops slowly--slowly----"

She ran her fingers across his mouth, and shook with hideous silent laughter as she showed him the tips stained red.

"Come," she said, "come--she is calling--calling----" and she struck at the hand which gripped her shoulder, and tried to shake herself free.

"Come!" said the man, looking straight into her eyes, "come with me."

She slid her hand into his, and followed him docilely as he lifted the reed purdah and entered her bedroom.

"Lie down!"

He lifted the netting and pointed to the bed.

As he towered above her the scarlet mouth in the uplifted face was on a level with his shoulder, as she smiled distractingly and raised her hands palm upwards in a little supplicating gesture.

"My Lord!" she whispered. "My Lord!"

The temptations of all the ages, and the overpowering pa.s.sion of his own glowing East rose about him like a flood; he shook from head to foot as she laid herself down and drawing the sheet about her whispered again, "My Lord!"

They were alone in the jungle, and his will was hers; she was as a bit of wax upon which he might imprint his seal; there was no one to say him nay if he should draw her unto his intent.

And he loved her.

Yes! he loved her, and because of the overpowering strength of this love he knelt beside her and placed his fingers upon her temples.

"Sleep, beloved," he whispered, "sleep--the women that are of pure odour--all of them--we--make--sleep."

And Leonie slept peacefully and undisturbed until the dawn, because Madhu Krishnaghar, with his face buried in his arms, who lay across the threshold of her bedroom, was one of the splendid type that India breeds--an Indian n.o.bleman.

CHAPTER XLVI