mes, and I
will go this very moment and order my horse to be got ready, to give
her the slip, in case she may be meditating anything very
disagreeable. For if she finds the bird flown, she will give it up,
once for all.

And I went to the door and opened it, and lo! there in the street
before me stood a woman, who was in the very act of knocking at the
door, to get in, so that as I pulled it open, she very nearly fell
into my arms. And as she drew back laughing, I looked at her in blank
amazement. For she resembled a feminine incarnation of the dawn, being
a very Apsaras for beauty, and very young, and very small, and dressed
in a garment of red muslin, whose edge of gold ran all about her like
a snake.[19] And she had gold bangles, and gold anklets, and gold
chains about her neck, and she held the end of her garment drawn over
her head with one hand, whose arm resembled a creeper spray, so that I
could only just see her long eyes peeping at me through the opening.
And I stood awhile, holding the door, and looking at her with dismay,
that was very nearly terror, saying to myself: Now, after all, I am
caught, for here she is in person, running to me of her own accord.
And at last I said with hesitation: Art thou Tarawali?

And instantly, that strange damsel broke into a peal of laughter. And
she exclaimed: I, Tarawali? Art thou stark mad? Or dost thou imagine
Tarawali would come to people's doors? Ha! then, but as it seems, thy
thoughts are already running on Tarawali. But let me come inside, for
why should the whole street listen to our conversation? And she came
in quickly and stood just inside the door, holding it by the handle,
as if she wanted to make sure of her escape. And she said: Art thou
Shatrunjaya, the lute-player? And I said: Yes. Then she said: Thou
deservest almost to be slain, for such an extraordinary blunder as to
confound such a thing as I am with the Queen. And yet, after all, thy
chance arrow is somewhere near the mark: for if I am not Tarawali, at
least I am her shadow, and never very far from her, being her
confidential maid. And I have come to thee now with a message from
herself: and it is this: Tarawali the pupil stands in sore need of
Shatrunjaya the master, to help her in disentangling the
quarter-tones of a theme: and she will await him in her garden, as
the sun goes down.

And I said: What, O thou red beauty, is thy name? And she said:
Chaturika[20] Then I said: Go back, O Chaturika, an