Virendra. "Then I must join the Pathans."
Abhiram Swami heaved a sigh, and was again silent; a tear stood in his eyes.
"Forgive my transgression, Sire," said Virendra Singha, greatly surprised. "I beseech you, let me know what offence I have been unknowingly guilty of."
Abhiram Swami wiped his eyes with his sheet, and said, "Listen. For several days, I have been engaged in astrological calculations. You know your daughter is an object of greater affection to me than yourself. I naturally made various calculations concerning her." Here Virendra looked blank; eagerly he asked, "Pray, what have you found by your calculation, Sir?"
"Great harm to Tilottama from a Mogal officer."
A cloud overspread Virendra's face.
"It is only when the Mogals are your enemy," went on the Swami, "that any danger may proceed from that source—not if you be friendly to them. It is for this reason that I was persuading you to side the Mogals. It was not my intention to pain you by this disclosure; but human endeavours avail not—methinks, the decrees of fate must take effect—why else should you be so determined?"
Virendra Singha remained mute.
"Virendra," said Abhiram Swami, "the ambassador of Katlu Khan is at the gate. It is because I saw him that I have come to you. Owing to my prohibition, the guards have not so long allowed him to come before you. I have now said my say. You may now summon him and return fit answer."
Virendra Singha raised his head with a sigh.
"Sire! so long as I did not see Tilottama," said he, "I did
