Part 10

And at that very moment, he heard behind him a deep sigh. And as he turned, wood, poppies, and all vanished from before his eyes. Once more he stood on the city wall; and there before him was the King's daughter. And she was standing in the doorway through which he had come upon the wall, leaning against the open door, and paler than Love's own ashes, while her great dark eyes were frozen as it were to ice, and yet lit up by the triple fire of sorrow and reproach and fierce disdain. And she looked like the daughter of Janaka, when forsaken by the lord of the race of Raghu, and like the heavenly Urwashi, when abandoned by Pururawas, a very spirit of despair carved by the Creator into a stony female form, to break the heart of the three worlds. And as if the very sight of her had broken the spell that held him, reason and recollection suddenly returned to Aja, as it were at a single bound. And he woke, as if from a magic sleep, and on the instant, a sword ran as it were straight into his heart. And with a cry, he flung away his sobbing burden like a blade of grass, not caring where it fell: and ran towards the King's daughter. But she, when she saw him coming, shrieked, and started, and exclaimed: Away! Touch me not, save with the point of thy sharp true sword, to pierce me through the body as thy perfidy has my soul.

Then Aja tossed away his sword, with a shudder, over the edge of the wall. And he seized himself by the head with both hands, with a groan like the roar of a wounded lion. And he exclaimed: Ha! Better now it had been indeed, had I never emerged from the waste of sand. And he turned fiercely upon Natabhrúkutí, saying: This is thy doing, thou vile enchantress: and now I am indeed awake.

But even as he spoke, the words died away upon his lips; and he stood still, like a picture on a wall, for wonder at what he saw before him. For Natabhrúkutí was standing still, exactly where he left her, bolt upright, like a spear fixed in the earth. And her beauty was greater than ever, and yet such, that as he saw it, his heart stopped in his breast. For every vestige of the nectar of her love-emotion had left her, and in its place, the poison of immortal hate shone in her cold and evil eyes, which were fastened, as if with a mixture of pain and pleasure, with a glittering and fiendish stare, upon the King's daughter. And as he watched them, cold ran in Aja's veins. For her eyes shook, and changed colour, and a horrible smile played on her blue and twitching lips. And she looked thin, for her two arms hung down tight against her sides, and her fingers opened and shut, slowly, as if of their own accord.

And after a while, she spoke. And she turned to Aja, and said, in a voice that resembled a hiss: Fool! thou wouldst not take the blue flower I offered thee, though its fragrance could not have been matched by anything in the three worlds. Now, then, I will take another way. So as he watched her, she was gone: and he saw before him nothing but the empty city wall.

And as he looked again, not crediting the testimony of his own eyes, he heard a sharp cry from the King's daughter. And he turned, and saw Yashowatí sinking to the ground. And at that very moment Natabhrúkutí stood again before him. And she looked at him with strange eyes, and said slowly: Go now, and enjoy thy wife. But I must give thee just one kiss, before I go.

And as Aja looked into her eyes, suddenly, like a flash of lightning, he understood. And he struck his hand upon his brow, exclaiming: Ha! Now, now, I understand, too late. Thou art that very she, that was jealous of the King's daughter's beauty, and ruined her out of spite. And I have been befooled by thee, and failed to stand the test. And he ground his teeth with rage, that swept through him like a storm. And he said to himself: Alas! I threw away my sword. No matter. Now, then, as she said herself, I will take another way. And he looked at her, as she stood waiting. And he held out his arms, saying: Come, then. And as she put her face close to his own, he caught her by her slender throat, with both hands, in a grip like that of death.

And then lo! she was gone again. But in her place, he held in his grasp a huge yellow snake, which struck him, as he clutched it hard, once and twice, upon the lips.

A Fatal Kiss

And then, little by little, the night gradually came to an end. And the sun rose up, out of his home in the eastern mountain, and began rapidly to climb into the sky.

And all at once, there arose a great hubbub, and an outcry in the King's palace. And the women ran hither and thither, wailing and screaming and crying out: Haha! haha! the daughter of the King is gone. And they hunted in all directions, but could not find her anywhere: and they went and told the King. But he, when he heard it, came running just as he was in his night clothes, and hurried about with all the women, looking into every corner, and finding nothing. So after turning the palace upside down, he stopped short. And he said: What if she should have followed her lover up on to the city wall, and shared his fate! For beyond a doubt, like all his predecessors, he has vanished never to return.

Then they all went up the winding stair, the King going first. And he stepped out on to the wall. And instantly, with a piercing cry, he fell to the ground in a mortal swoon.

Then terror seized on all those women, and they stood exactly where they were, looking at each other with pale faces, not daring to advance. But at last, after a long while, supporting each the other, they pushed forward and looked out. And they saw the King's body, lying on that of his daughter; and a little further off, Aja, lying upon his face.

Then they went out, and took up those three bodies, and carried them in, and examined them. And after a while, they said: Doubtless the heart of the old King broke, when he saw his daughter lying dead. But as for the other two, one snake has evidently bitten both. And yet, this is a wonderful thing. For she has been bitten on the foot, but her lover upon the lips. What then? Was he trying to kiss the snake, that it should bite him upon the lips? For how could even the biggest snake reach up so high, as this great Rajpoot's mouth?

* * * * *

A Selection from the Catalogue of

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

Complete Catalogue sent on application

Books by F. W. Bain

_Translated from Original Manuscripts_

A Digit of the Moon And Other Love Stories from the Hindu

_Crown 8vo. Illustrated. Net, $1.50_

A Draught of the Blue together with An Essence of the Dusk

_Crown 8vo. Illustrated. Net, $1.50_

An Incarnation of the Snow

_Crown 8vo. Illustrated. Net, $1.25_

A Mine of Faults

_Crown 8vo. Illustrated. Net, $1.25_

The Ashes of a God

"Mr. Bain's stories are full of wistfulness and beauty. There is a tenderness, a richness of color, a warmth of passion, and an elemental understanding of men and women.... They seem to me to place Mr. Bain on an eminence isolated and unique.... No words that I can write can fittingly express the fascination of these books."--Mr. E. V. Lucas in the _London Bookman_.

"Charming love stories that will be absolutely novel to most readers. They are delicate, vivid, and told in beautiful English. They show Hindu life and thought in the true light, a thing worth doing in view of the mushy mysticisms and theosophical gibbering that have obscured it in this country."--_N. Y. Sun_.

* * * * *

"Reading this book is like breathing strong refreshing air."--_N. Y. Evening Sun_.

Bawbee Jock

By Amy McLaren

Author of "The Yoke of Silence," etc.

"Amid delightful Highland scenes and charming Highland people a very pretty love duet is sung in Bawbee Jock.... A refreshing contrast to most novels written nowadays."--_New York Sun_.

"One of the most delightful love stories of the year, as fresh as the breath of heather on the Scottish hills."--_Columbus Journal_.

"Idealistic? Very. In a way that makes one glad that stories such as it still appear."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean_.

Fifth Impression. $1.35 net. By mail, $1.50

* * * * *

_The Most Popular Books in the United States_

By Florence L. Barclay

_Over 350 Thousand Sold_

The Rosary

Popular Edition. Cr. 8vo. $1.35 net. ($1.80 by mall.) Holiday Edition, with Illustrations in Color by Blendon Campbell, and Decorations and Cover Design by Margaret Armstrong. Handsomely printed and bound. Uniform with the Holiday Edition of "The Mistress of Shenstone." 8vo. $2.50 net.

"An ideal love story--one that justifies the publishing business, refreshes the heart of the reviewer, strengthens faith in the outcome of the great experiment of putting humanity on earth. _The Rosary_ is a rare book, a source of genuine delight."--_Syracuse Post-Standard_.

_Over 550 Thousand Sold_

The Mistress of Shenstone

Popular Edition. Cr. 8vo, $1.35 net. ($1.50 by mail.) Holiday Edition, with 8 illustrations in Color by F. H. Townsend, and Decorations and Cover Design by Margaret Armstrong. Handsomely printed and bound. Uniform with the Holiday Edition of "The Rosary." 8vo. $2.50 net.

"An optimistic novel of true love, related with sincerity.... A worthy successor to The Rosary."--_Phila. Press._

_First Printing 90 Thousand Copies_

The Following of the Star

With Frontispiece by F. H. Townsend. Cr. 8vo.

$1.35 net. ($1.50 by mail)

A beautiful Christmas love story, instinct with the same depth of feeling, glowing imagery, and refinement of literary art as "The Rosary," and is told with all the power and sweetness which won for Mrs. Barclay's earlier books their place in the front rank of recent fiction.

* * * * *

_By the author of "The Country House"_

FRATERNITY

BY JOHN GALSWORTHY

Author of "THE MAN OF PROPERTY," "VILLA RUBEIN," ETC.

"The foundation of Mr. Galsworthy's talent, it seems to me, lies in a remarkable power of ironic insight combined with an extremely keen and faithful eye for all the phenomena, on the surface of the life he observes. These are the purveyors of his imagination, whose servant is a style clear, direct, sane, illumined by a perfectly unaffected sincerity. It is the style of a man whose sympathy with mankind is too genuine to allow him the smallest gratification of his vanity at the cost of his fellow creatures, ... sufficiently pointed to carry deep his remorseless irony, and grave enough to be the dignified vehicle of his profound compassion. Its sustained harmony is never interrupted by those bursts of cymbals and fifes which some deaf people acclaim for brilliance. Mr. Galsworthy will never be found futile by anyone and never uninteresting by the most exacting."

MR. JOSEPH CONRAD in _The Outlook_.

_Crown 8vo. Fixed price, $1.35 net. (By mail $1.50)_

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

NEW YORK LONDON

* * * * *

By F. W. BAIN

_Translated from the Original Manuscripts_

A Digit of the Moon And Other Love Stories from the Hindu

A Draught of the Blue together with An Essence of the Dusk

An Incarnation of the Snow

A Mine of Faults

The Ashes of a God