Like the sudden rise of storm clouds, the prince Hemchandra, in a terrible guise, set out in search of the Turk. As a tiger, upon seeing its prey, rushes forth with speed, so did Hemchandra, the moment he glimpsed the Turk, rush upon him. But where— He could not be certain whether he would encounter the Turks.

Hemchandra had seen only a single Turk. Yet he concluded that either the Turkish army had arrived near the city and was lying in concealment, or this man was a scout sent ahead by the Turks. If indeed the Turkish army had come, it would be impossible to fight them alone. But whatever the truth of the matter, Hemchandra could never remain still without investigating the real situation. For the great cause for which he had abandoned Mrinalini, he could not, even for a single night, allow himself to be lulled into sleep and neglect his duty. Especially, Hemchandra felt a deep, inner joy at the thought of slaying the Yavanas. Ever since he had seen the turbaned head, his thirst for vengeance had grown terribly fierce—how then could he remain calm? Therefore, with swift and determined steps, Hemchandra set out toward the royal road.

The royal road lay some distance from the garden house. The path that led from the garden house to the royal road was a rural lane, seldom trodden by people. Hemchandra took that path. Beside it ran a very broad and beautiful tank, adorned with steps. Along the banks of the tank grew many trees—bakul, sal, ashok, champak, kadamba, aswattha, banyan, mango, tamarind, and others. The trees were not arranged in any orderly fashion; rather, many of them were so closely intertwined, their branches mingling with each other, that they cast a deep, impenetrable shade along the water’s edge. Even by day, it was dark there. There was a rumor that ghosts haunted that tank. This belief had become so firmly rooted in the minds of the local people that they rarely went there. If they did, they never went alone. At night, no one ever ventured there.

In an age dominated by myth and legend, what wonder if Hemchandra too believed in the existence of ghosts? But though he believed in spirits, he was not of such timid nature as to hesitate to take the path he must. Therefore, without any hesitation, he walked along the edge of the tank. He proceeded. He was indeed unhesitant, yet not devoid of curiosity. Walking by the side of the riverbank, he cast his unwavering gaze everywhere and upon every object. He drew near the stairway. Suddenly, he was startled. His faith in popular rumor became firmly established. He saw, in the moonlight, upon the lowest step of the stairs, someone clad in white garments sitting with her feet just above the water. He perceived her to be a woman. She was dressed in white, her hair unbound; the mass of her tresses covered her shoulders, back, arms, face, and