s of
the two people in the house one was sick and one was well, that the
former could not have escaped from want of strength; therefore that
Haro Mani must have escaped and the dead person must be myself. What
was at first a supposition became established by report. Ram Krishna
heard the report, and repeated it to you. The _Brahmachari_ heard all
this, and also that you had been there, had heard of my death, and had
come hither. He came after you, arriving last night at Protappur. I
also heard that in a day or two you were expected home. In that belief
I came here the day before yesterday. It does not trouble me now to
walk a few miles. As you had not come I went back, saw the
_Brahmachari_, and returned yesterday, arriving at one this morning.
The window being open, I entered the house and hid under the stairs
without being seen. When all slept I ascended; I thought you would
certainly sleep in this room. I peeped in, and saw you sitting with
your head in your hands. I longed to throw myself at your feet, but I
feared you would not forgive my sin against you, so I refrained. From
within the window I looked, thinking, 'Now I will let him see me.' I
came in, but you fell senseless, and since then I have sat with your
head on my lap. I knew not that such joy was in my destiny. But, fie!
you love me not; when you put your hand upon me you did not recognize
me! I should have known you by your breath."

CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE SIMPLETON AND THE SERPENT.

While in the sleeping--chamber, bathed in a sea of joy, Nagendra and
Surja Mukhi held loving converse, in another apartment of that same
house a fatal dialogue was being held. Before relating it, it is
necessary to record what occurred on the previous night. As we know,
Nagendra had held no converse with Kunda Nandini on his return. In her
own room, with her head on the pillow, Kunda had wept the whole night,
not the easy tears of girlhood, but from a mortal wound. Whosoever in
childhood has in all sincerity delivered the priceless treasure of
her heart to any one, and has in exchange received only neglect, can
imagine the piercing pain of that weeping. "Why have I preserved my
life," she asked herself, "with the desire to see my husband? Now what
happiness remains to be hoped for?" With the dawn sleep came, and in
that sleep, for the second time, a frightful vision. The bright figure
assuming the form of her mother, which she had seen four years before
by her dead