Within a chamber of the Chunar Fort, Maharaj Surendra Singh, Virendra Singh, Jeet Singh, Tej Singh, Devi Singh, Indrajit Singh, and Anand Singh were seated, engaged in conversation.

Jeet Singh said, "Bhairon acted with great cleverness, disguising himself as Indrajit Singh and allowing himself to fall into the hands of Shivdutt's ayyars."

Surendra Singh replied, "Shivdutt's ayyars were cunning indeed, but…"

Virendra Singh added, "Babaji may have become a siddha riding a lion, but he could not accomplish his true purpose."

Indrajit Singh said, "Be that as it may, Bhairon Singh must be rescued very soon."

Jeet Singh reassured him, "Prince, do not worry. Your friend will not suffer any harm, but for now, it is best that he remains in Shivdutt's custody. He is no fool—he can escape on his own without assistance. Still, Pannalal, Ramnarayan, Chunnilal, Badrinath, and Jyotishiji have already been sent to aid him. Let us see what happens! After lying low for so many days, Shivdutt has once again girded himself to bring about his own ruin."

Devi Singh asked, "What orders are there now for the army that accompanied the princes to the hunting grounds?"

Jeet Singh replied, "For now, it is not advisable to break camp at the hunting grounds." (Tej Singh's…

Looking in that direction) Why so urgent?

Tej Singh (folding his hands): "Yes, sir. If we keep our camp in the hunting grounds, we'll be able to carry out our work with great ease and amusement."

Surendra Singh: "If any ayyār returns from Shivdattgarh, we might learn some news."

Tej Singh: "Not tomorrow, but by the day after, someone will surely come."

The conversation continued for more than a quarter of a watch. We do not find it appropriate to reveal the entire discussion, especially since even we could not ascertain the final matter that Jeet Singh explained to Tej Singh in private after the assembly dispersed. Well, let it be; whatever is to happen will be seen in due time—what's the hurry?

On the banks of the Ganga, in a lofty barahdari, the two brothers, Indrajit Singh and Anand Singh, sat observing the state of the waters. It was the rainy season; the Ganga was greatly swollen, the water had reached the base of the fort, and small waves were striking against the walls. The ruddy glow of the setting sun fell upon the water, doubling the beauty of the rippling waves. Silence reigned; in this barahdari, besides these two brothers, not a third soul was to be seen.

Indrajit Singh: "The water will rise a little more yet."

Anand Singh: "Yes, last year the Ganga was much higher than this, when Grandfather told us to swim across."

Indrajit Singh: "That day was quite an adventure. Bhairon Singh outpaced everyone; Badrinath tried his utmost to get ahead of him, but could not."

Anand Singh: "We both kept pace with the boat that accompanied us for our safety, for nearly a kos."

Indrajit Singh: "That was our last test. Since then, we've had no occasion to swim in the river."

Anand Singh: "Yesterday, I told Grandfather that the Ganga is very high these days, and I feel like swimming."

Indrajit Singh: "And what did he say?"

Anand Singh: "He said, "Enough, now it's not proper for you to swim; it would be laughable. Swimming is a skill in which you are already proficient. What need is there now? If you wish, take a boat and go for a ride."

Indrajit Singh: "He spoke very rightly. Come, let's take a boat and go for a little excursion."

As they were talking, the attendant arrived and announced, "An old jeweler is here and wishes to have an audience."

Anand Singh: "What sort of time is this?"

Attendant (folding his hands): "I had intended to send him away at this hour, but refrained, thinking that since his youth he has been a loyal servant of this court, and His Majesty also keeps a special eye on him. Moreover—"

He is an old man of eighty years, and thirdly, he says that he has just arrived in this city. He has already had an audience with the Maharaj, and now, after seeing Your Highness as well, he will settle comfortably at the inn—this has always been his custom.

Indrajit Singh: If that is so, then it is proper to let him come.

Anand Singh: Now, I do not feel in the mood for a boat ride today.

Indrajit Singh: What does it matter? Tomorrow will do.

The attendant saluted and left, and after a short while, returned with the merchant. In truth, the merchant was very old; dignity and nobility radiated from his face. Upon entering, he saluted and presented both brothers with two rings. After they accepted the rings, and at a gesture from them, he sat down on the floor.

The old jeweler was treated with honor; they inquired after his health and the circumstances of his journey. Then, he was ordered to go to his quarters and rest, and to present himself again the next day. The merchant saluted and departed.

Of the two rings the merchant had presented to the brothers, Anand Singh's ring was set with an exceedingly beautiful ruby, while Indrajit Singh's ring bore only a small portrait. The next day, Indrajit Singh glanced at it again and, lost in thought, remained silent.

When alone at night, by the light of the candelabrum, he examined the ring again—the one in which, instead of a gem, was set the portrait of a young woman. Though the portrait was very small, the artist had lavished astonishing skill upon it. As he gazed at it, Indrajit Singh became so absorbed that he forgot himself and the image; it seemed as if that delicate beauty sat before him in person, and he longed to speak to her, but, awed by her radiance, remained silent. Suddenly, he started and reproached himself for his foolishness, but what use was that? In a single instant, the