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CHANDRASHEKHAR.

"What do you propose?”

“I want to tell him all about the past and ask his forgiveness.”

Protap reflected for a while and said, “Yes, do tell him. I bless you—may you be happy henceforth!” and he shed silent tears.

“I cannot be happy,” said Shaibalini, “there is no happiness for me so long you are in this world.”

“How is that, Shaibalini?” asked Protap.

“You shouldn't see me again so long you are alive,” said Shaibalini. “A woman’s mind is rotten to the very core; how long it will stand firm I do not know. You should never see me again in this life.”

Protap did not reply. He laid the whip on his horse and set out at a brisk pace for the battlefield. His soldiers ran after him.

“Where do you go?” called out Chandrashekhar after him as he went.

“To the battle,” answered back Protap.

In a loud voice Chandrashekhar eagerly called out to him, “Don’t go, don’t go. It is certain death to fight the English.”

“Foster is yet alive,” said Protap, “and I am going for his destruction.”

Chandrashekhar ran up to him and catching hold of the bridle said :

“Brother, what is the good of killing Foster? God will deal with the wicked. Who are you or I to usurp His ofiice? The base and ignoble revenge on their enemy, the noble and rnagnanimous forgive.”

Protap was struck with admiration and was charmed. He had never heard anyone utter such noble language before. Alighting from his horse he reverentially touched Chandrashekhafs feet with his hand to scrape off the