dint of her cleverness. She anon fell to thinking how to effect it.
After the sentinel had remained standing for sometime, Bimala began to converse with him. Sentinel or Pluto's messenger,—who can ever willingly abstain from conversing with a fair woman? At first Bimala talked on various indifferent matters; gradually she introduced a variety of questions regarding the guard's name, country, home, employment, happiness and misery. The man was highly satisfied with the display of so much interest in him and his on the part of Bimala. Seeing the opportunity, she began to take out sharpened arrows from her quiver. On the one hand, her honied converse,—on the other, the unerring discharge of the flowery arrows;—these conspired to usher in the 'melting mood.' When Bimala perceived from the guard's manner that his ruin was not distant, she said in a soft, sweet tone,
"O! I am strangely afraid, Shaikhji. Will you kindly sit by me?"
The guard was in ecstacies,—he came up and sat beside Bimala. After a little talk on other matters, Bimala saw that her medicine had begun to work, for ever since he had sat by her, the guard was casting his glances 'frequent and full' at her.
"Shaikhji, I see you are perspiring awfully; if you do but once release my hands, I can fan you a little—after that, you can bind me again."
Not a drop of perspiration was visible on the guard's forehead; but Bimala must undoubtedly have seen it, why else should she say so? Further, to be fanned by such a hand! To whom is it given to enjoy such a luxury? Reflecting thus, the sentinel immediately loosened her hands.
