le the obsequies went slowly on,
with a soul that almost parted from its body with impatience for an
answer to my message that might help me to keep alive, saying to
myself: She cannot send Chaturika, as she did before, since it is too
far off for anything but a letter or a message, which will have to do
instead. But neither a letter nor a message ever came: though in the
meanwhile, my messenger returned with empty hands. And I tortured him
with questions, but all he had to say was that Chaturika had listened,
and bidden him to go away. And notwithstanding my bitter
disappointment, I racked my brain to find excuses for them both,
saying: I am a fool. How could I expect any reply, since after all I
never put a question, and silence was the only answer to be given: and
beyond all doubt, she is waiting till I come? And is it likely that
she would trust a message to a man she did not know? She is keeping
her answer to be sent in the form of a summons on the eve of the full
moon, which was the only answer I was asking for. And yet, in spite of
all that I could think of to cool the fever that burned in my heart, I
chafed and pined, sick with anxiety and disappointment, and longing in
vain for the thing that never came. And I said sadly to myself: Well,
only too well, she knew, that the very shadow of a sign of any kind,
from her, would have set my heart dancing like a peacock at the first
symptom of the coming of the rain. Or can it be, after all, that she
really did send an answer, which has somehow or other lost its way?
Aye! no doubt, it must be so, for she is kind, and could not bear to
think of the misery she knew I must be suffering every moment that I
am not by her side.
And so, perforce, I waited, gnawing at my own heart, until at last
the funeral ceremonies were over. And instantly, I took leave of my
mother, and turned my back on my relations, and set off at a gallop
for Kamalapura, with my heart singing for delight, like an arrow from
a bow.
XVIII
And I reached it, exactly as I said, on the eve of the full moon. And
I said to myself, with exultation: Ha! to-morrow night, it will be
full, and red, and round, exactly as it was a month ago, and shining
as it did before, upon the boat, and Tarawali, and me. And at the
thought, I laughed aloud, for sheer joy, and came to my own door, and
went in. And lo! the very first thing that I saw, when I entered, was
my lute, lying on the floor with a broken string, and l
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