k the dust from their feet, they weeping
loudly. Then Kunda hid her face between her husband's feet. She spoke
no more, consciousness gradually departed. Her face lying on her
husband's feet, the youthful Kunda Nandini's spirit departed, the
blooming flower died.

Surja Mukhi, checking her sobs, looked at her dead companion-wife, and
said, "May thy happy fate be mine; may I die thus, my head on my
husband's feet." Then taking her weeping husband's hand, she led him
away.

Afterwards, Nagendra, recovering his firmness, took Kunda to the
riverside, performed the last rites, and bade farewell to the lovely
form.

CHAPTER XL.

THE END.

After Kunda Nandini's death, people asked where she obtained the
poison, and all began to suspect that it was Hira's work.

Nagendra directed that Hira should be called, but she was not to be
found; since Kunda's death she had disappeared. From that time no one
ever saw Hira in that part of the country; her name was no longer
heard in Govindpur.

Once only, a year later, she showed herself to Debendra. The poison
tree planted by Debendra had by that time borne fruit; he was seized
with a malignant disease, and as he did not cease drinking, the
disease became incurable. During the first year after Kunda's death,
Debendra's summons came. Two or three days before his death, as he lay
on his bed without power to rise, there suddenly arose a great noise
at the door.

In answer to Debendra's inquiries, the servant said, "A mad woman
wants to see you, sir; she will not be forbidden."

He gave orders that she should be admitted. The woman appeared.
Debendra saw that she was reduced by want, but observed no sign of
madness; he thought her a wretched beggar-woman. She was young, and
retained the signs of former beauty, but now she was a sight indeed.
Her apparel soiled, ragged, patched, and so scanty that it barely
reached her knees, while her back and head remained uncovered; her
hair unkempt, dishevelled, covered with dust and matted together; her
body never oiled, withered-looking, covered with mud. As she
approached, she cast so wild a glance on Debendra that he saw the
servants were right--she was truly a mad-woman.

After gazing at him some time, she said, "Do you not know me? I am
Hira."

Recognizing her, Debendra asked in astonishment, "Who has brought you
to this condition?"

Hira, with a glance full of rage, biting her lip and clenching her
fist, approached to stri