Angulimala had swung himself over the breastwork. With a fierce shout Satagira gave chase.
That was the last I saw and heard.
Afterwards I learned that Angulimala had fallen, had broken a foot, and had been captured by the guard; that he had later died in prison, under torture, and that his head had been placed over the east gate of the town where Medini and Somadatta had seen it.
With Angulimala's "Rite of Truth" my last doubt and my last hope had left me. For I knew well that even that devilish goddess Kali could have worked no miracle to rescue him if he had not had the strength which truth lends on his side.
As to what should now become of me I troubled myself little, for, on earth, everything was henceforth lost to me. Only in the Paradise of the West could we meet again. Thou hadst gone before and I would, as I ardently hoped, soon follow. There happiness blossomed, all else was a matter of indifference.
As Satagira now continued to press his suit, and my mother, always wailing and weeping, kept on making representations to me that she would die of a broken heart if she should suffer through me the disgrace of having a daughter remain unmarried in the house of her parents—she "might just as well have given birth to the ugliest maiden in Kosambi!"—little by little my resistance weakened.
Over and above, I had no longer so much to bring against Satagira as before. I could not avoid recognising the steadfastness and fidelity of his attachment, and I also felt that I owed him gratitude for having avenged the death of my beloved.
Thus, then, I became—after almost another year had passed—Satagira's bride.
