hat I have long striven to say. I will leave this house; I will
not die, but I will go elsewhere. Home and family no longer give me
happiness. I have no pleasure with you. I am not fit to be your
husband. I will trouble you no longer. I will find Kunda Nandini, and
will go with her to another place. Do you remain mistress of this
house. Regard yourself as a widow--since your husband is so base, are
you not a widow? But, base as I am, I will not deceive you. Now I go:
if I am able to forget Kunda, I will come again; if not, this is my
last hour with you."

What could Surja Mukhi say to these heart-piercing words? For some
moments she stood like a statue, gazing on the ground. Then she cast
herself down, hid her face, and wept.

As the murderous tiger gazes at the dying agonies of his prey,
Nagendra stood calmly looking on. He was thinking, "She will die
to-day or to-morrow, as God may will. What can I do? If I willed it,
could I die instead of her? I might die; but would that save Surja
Mukhi?"

No, Nagendra, your dying would not save Surja Mukhi; but it would be
well for you to die.

After a time Surja Mukhi sat up; again clasping her husband's feet,
she said: "Grant me one boon."

"What is it?"

"Remain one month longer at home. If in that time we do not find Kunda
Nandini, then go; I will not keep you."

Nagendra went out without reply. Mentally he consented to remain for a
month; Surja Mukhi understood that. She stood looking after his
departing figure, thinking within herself: "My darling, I would give
my life to extract the thorns from your feet. You would leave your
home on account of this wretched Surja Mukhi. Are you or I the
greater?"

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE CAGED BIRD.

Hira had lost her place, but her relation with the Datta family was
not ended. Ever greedy for news from that house, whenever she met any
one belonging to it Hira entered into a gossip. In this way she
endeavoured to ascertain the disposition of Nagendra towards Surja
Mukhi. If she met no one she found some pretext for going to the
house, where, in the servants' quarters, while talking of all sorts of
matters, she would learn what she wished and depart. Thus some time
passed; but one day an unpleasant event occurred. After Hira's
interview with Debendra, Malati the milk-woman became a constant
visitor at Hira's dwelling. Malati perceived that Hira was not pleased
at this; also that one room remained constantly closed. The do