been reduced to, I cannot indulge the fond hope of seeing you again; perhaps here we see our last of each other. Ah! how shall words express how deeply I stand indebted to you! As for ever requiting it, I dare not hope to do it, considering my ill luck. But if ever I again possess the power to do you a good turn—if ever better days dawn on me, do not, I pray you, scruple to express your mind to me. As a sister unreservedly expresses her wishes to her brother, do you, Madam, do likewise."
Jagat Singha's tone was so very disconsolate—so very despairing, that Aesha was touched.
"Don't give way to despair, Sir," said she; "the evils of to-day are removed by the morrow."
"I am not given up to despair," answered Jagat Singha. "But what have I again to hope for in this life? To resign this existence, not to maintain it, is my sole wish now. But I am unwilling to quit it in prison."
The pathetic tone of the Prince went direct to the heart of Aesha;—she was moreover surprised at this display of feeling. The Princess was now put aside—distance and reserve now vanished;—like an affectionate woman, with a woman's tender concern, she took hold of the Prince's hand.
"Jagat"—exclaimed she, looking up into Jagat Singha's face, and then stopped for a moment. She had addressed the Prince, "Jagat."
"Jagat," resumed she, "O why is this anguish in your heart! Do not look on me as one foreign to you. If you permit me I'd ask—Is Virendra Singha's daughter—"
"I cry you mercy," interposed he; "that dream has vanished."
