"You shall see that to-morrow morning before the Nabab," said he.
"?When father will ask"—replied she in the same manner, "I shall ans?wer him; yo?u nee?dn't b?e unea?sy on? that sco?re."
"A?nd what if I as?ked??" sai?d he in the same? railing tone.
Aesha st?arted t?o her f?eet, and for a while fix?ed her gaz?e on Osman. Her expan?s?ive eyes became more exp?ansive, her lily-like countenance beca?me still more blooming, her head wi?th th?e raven-b?lack loc?ks slightly inclined to one side, her bo?so?m heaved with rising emotion, like moss sw?yaye?d by the waves. ?In clear, ringing tones, sh?e said,
"If ?you ask, Osman, I ?can tell you that the priso?ner before us is—the lord of my bosom."
Had the thunder burst there at that moment, neither the Rajput nor the Pa?th?an could have be?en s?tartled more highly. The Prince felt as if some one had illumined his mental darkness;—he now understood the meaning and import of Aesha's silent weeping. Osman had ere this surmised as much, and had therefore rebuked Aesha in such a way; but that she should declare her love in his very presence, had not? entered his head. Osman was silent.
"Listen, Osman," continued she, "this prisoner is the lord of my bosom. While a part?icl?e of life? continues to warm this frame, none else can hope ?to find a pl?ace there. If it so happen that ?to-morrow the ground of exec?ution be ?dren?ched with his bl?ood—" here she shuddered, "still, still, you will find me enshrining his dear image in my heart of hear?ts a?nd w?orshipp?ing it for ever and a day. If this moment is destined to be the last of our seeing each other, if he be released to-morrow, and
