reverence, who was I that I should disbelieve? Suddenly a magnificent display of golden light illuminated the whole scene. The effect was weird, glorious, never to be forgotten. The crowd, dense-packed, a seething mass of humanity betrayed into emotion beyond their wont, gesticulating, exclaiming, filled the vast space below, and stretched in one unbroken mass, a sea of heads, right up to the ramparts of the Fort outlined against the sky beyond.
'Ah!' Sir Peter drew a deep breath. It reminded me of the exclamation, half of wonder, half of awe, that a little boy gives out of the darkness at a Sunday school treat when a limelight picture is suddenly thrown upon the screen.
'Now do you understand?' he asked. Suddenly the golden lights shot high up into the air, hovered a moment, and then, falling quickly, one by one, went out. Below was nothing but the darkness. The scene that had stood out clear as day a moment before seemed nothing but a picture of the brain. It was fascinating.
'Just think what it would be like to be down among that crowd!' Sir Peter's voice sounded melodramatic in the darkness. I laughed nervously.
'But we are right up here out of its way in the Jumma Musjid,' I said, determined not to be depressed.
He looked at me again impressively.
'I think of the two we should be safer down below in the crowd,' he said.
A squib—not an ordinary squib, but magnified
