; when hope dies, all dies."

Now, therefore, he resolved to go to Govindpur, not with the purpose
of remaining, but to arrange all his affairs and bid farewell to the
house. The zemindari, the family house, and the rest of his landed
property of his own acquiring, he would make over by deed to his
nephew, Satish Chandra. The deed would need to be drawn up by a
lawyer, or it would not stand. The movable wealth he would send to
Kamal Mani in Calcutta, sending Kunda Nandini there also. A certain
amount of money he would reserve for his own support in Government
securities. The account-books of the estate he would place in the
hands of Srish Chandra.

He would not give Surja Mukhi's ornaments to his sister, but would
keep them beside him wherever he went, and when his time came would
die looking at them. After completing the needful arrangements he
would leave home, revisit the spot where Surja Mukhi had died, and
then resume his wandering life. So long as he should live he would
hide in some corner of the earth.

Such were Nagendra's thoughts as he was borne on in his palanquin; its
doors were open, the night was lightened by the October moon, stars
shone in the sky. The telegraph-wires by the wayside hummed in the
wind; but on that night not even a star could seem beautiful in the
eyes of Nagendra, even the moonlight seemed harsh. All things seemed
to give pain. The earth was cruel. Why should everything that seemed
beautiful in days of happiness seem to-day so ugly? Those long slender
moonbeams by which the heart was wont to be refreshed, why did they
now seem so glaring? The sky is to-day as blue, the clouds as white,
the stars as bright, the wind as playful; the animal creation, as
ever, rove at will. Man is as smiling and joyous, the earth pursues
its endless course, family affairs follow their daily round. The
world's hardness is unendurable. Why did not the earth open and
swallow up Nagendra in his palanquin?

Thus thinking, Nagendra perceived that he was himself to blame for
all. He had reached his thirty-third year only, yet he had lost all.
God had given him everything that makes the happiness of man. Riches,
greatness, prosperity, honour--all these he had received from the
beginning in unwonted measure. Without intelligence these had been
nothing, but God had given that also without stint. His education had
not been neglected by his parents; who was so well instructed as
himself? Beauty, strength, health,