to listen; and
all the hair on my body stood erect. And I said slowly to myself: I
have lost the race, after all, for they are wailing in the city, and
it can be for one thing only, that it is widowed of its King. Aye! I
am too late. And I have killed my horse for nothing, since Death has
arrived before me, after all, having annihilated my competition, by
taking my horse upon the way. And I have reached my journey's end,
just in time to hear the wailing, as if Death were jeering at me,
saying as it were in irony: They must travel very fast who think to
outstrip me.

And I went on to the palace, never stopping at the gate to ask what I
already knew. And they ran to warn my mother, and she came out of the
women's quarters, and stood looking at me grimly, covered as I was
with dust and perspiration, and almost ready to fall down, for sheer
fatigue. And then she said: Fool! thou art too late, and thy brother
has the throne. And now thou art little better than an outcast, and
hast lost thy father, and thy crown, and me.

And I looked at her, and I said: When did the King die? And she said:
Sunset.

And I uttered a shout of laughter, and threw my hands into the air,
and fell at her feet in a swoon.

XVII

And when I had recovered, in a day or two, I came, so to say, to terms
with my loss and my condition: saying to myself: After all, my father
had to die, whether I came to him in time, or not: and I could not
have saved his life, by my coming, no matter when I came. And so, the
only thing I lost, by coming late, is my _raj_. But what do I care for
any _raj_, which, in comparison with Tarawali, resembles a mere pinch
of dust, thrown into the other scale? Away with the miserable _raj_!
as if another sunset with the Queen would not be cheaply purchased at
the price of all the kingdoms in the world! And I passed my days of
absence in doing absolutely nothing but thinking of Tarawali, and
waiting, with a soul almost unable to endure, till the moment of
return. And I sent a secret messenger to Kamalapura, saying to him: Go
to the palace gate, and ask the _pratihari_ for a _cheti_ called
Chaturika. And when she comes, tell her by word of mouth, so that
nobody may hear thee but herself: Greetings to the Queen from
Shatrunjaya, who has lost his throne on her account, and does not
care. And when the obsequies are over, he will return to Kamalapura,
on the night before the moon is full.

And having sent him off, I waited, whi