VIII. THE TOKEN
A month passed by, and Noren was still in custody. He was lodged in a secluded and well-fortified house, and was allowed every comfort due to his rank; but all communication with him was strictly interdicted. The guard was strong and well armed, for there might be a rising among the people of Birnagar to rescue their young Chief. Some attempts were made, some tumult arose round the prison-house, some blood was shed in the streets, but in vain. The young Chief ate his heart out in solitude and inaction. Pale and gaunt and careworn, he would look out from the barred windows to the spacious gardens of the Palace, until memories of happy days passed in those lovely woods surged into his mind, and his tearless eyes became dim. And he would sit up late at night to watch a dim light behind a latticed window, until that light was extinguished, and left him in a darkness deeper than the gloom of the night.
News came at last that Raja Man Singh had returned to Rajmahal and that he would honour Birnagar by an early visit. Great preparations were made in the little town to give him a fitting reception. Streets were swept and watered, arches were made and decorated with festoons, plantain trees were set up in rows along the pathways, and jars of water covered with leaf were placed under the trees, according to Eastern custom. Thousands of villagers poured into
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