me to the Prince;" but shame, her former enemy, prevented her, and the words stuck in her throat. The guard again asked, "Where shall I take you?"
Tilottama could say nothing, she was almost out of herself; her heart trembled she knew not why; her eyes failed to see; her ears to hear; she knew not what escaped her lips; a faint sound like Jagat Singha entered the guard's ear.
"Jagat Singha is in prison now," said he; "no one can go there; but I have been ordered to take you wherever you should like to go. Come along, madam."
The guard re-entered the fort. Unconscious of what she was about or where she was going, she turned and followed her guide, like a puppet in pulling wires. The man found that the guards of the prison were not lax like those belonging to the other parts of the fort; here the men were watching in their posts.
"Where is the Prince?" asked the guide.
The man addressed pointed with his finger.
"Is the prisoner awake or asleep?" asked the guide to the guard of the prison. The man went up to the gate and returned.
"I have received the answer of the prisoner," said he. "He is awake."
"Please open the door to me," said the bearer of the ring; "this lady will go in to see the prisoner."
"How is that?" said the guard in surprise. "Don't you know there is no such order?"
The guide showed him the ring of Osman. The man bowed low, and opened the door.
The Prince was lying upon a common four-footed bed. On hearing the sound preceding from the door, he looked at it curiously.
