Her lips were glued to those of the unconscious corpse, which had so often returned her warm caresses, and she murmured in her agony all the endearing terms by which she had used in their private hours to call him, and implored him to awake. "He cannot be dead! he cannot be dead!" cried the fair girl,--for she was beautiful to look on, Sahib, as she partly rose and brushed back her dishevelled hair from her eyes. "And yet he moves not--he speaks not;" and she gazed on his features for a moment. "Ah!" she screamed, "look at his eyes, look at them--they will fall out of his head! And his countenance--'tis not my own lord's; those are not the lips which have often spoken kind words to his poor Kureena! Oh, my heart, what a pain is there!" "This will never do," cried I; "some of you put her out of her misery; for my part, I war not with women." "The girl is fair," said Surfuraz Khan; "I will give her a last chance for life." "Hark you!" cried he to her, "this is no time for fooling;" and as he rudely shook her by the arm, she looked up in his face with a piteous expression, and pointed to the body by which she was kneeling and mourning as she rocked herself to and fro. "Hear me," cried the Khan, "those who have done that work will end thy miserable life unless thou hearkenest to reason. I have no wife, no child: thou shalt be both to me, if thou wilt rise and follow me. Why waste further thought on the dead? And thou wast his slave too! Rise, I say again, and thy life is spared: thou shalt be free." "Who spoke to me?" said she, in tones scarcely audible, "Ah, do not take me from him; my heart is broken! I am dying, and you would not part us?" "Listen, fool!" exclaimed the Khan; "before this assembly I promise thee life and a happy home, yet thou hearkenest not: tempt not thy fate; a word from me and thou diest. Wilt thou then follow me? my horse is ready, we will leave the dead, and think no more on the fate of him who lies there." "Think no more on him! forget him--my own, my noble lover! Oh, no, no, no! Is he not dead? and I too am dying." "Again I warn thee, miserable girl," cried Surfuraz Khan; "urge me not to use force; I would that you followed me willingly--as yet I have not laid hands on thee." A low moan was her only reply, as she turned again to the dead, and caressed the distorted and now stiffening features. "Away with the body!" cried I to some of the Lughaees, who were waiting to do their office; "one would think ye were all a parcel of love-sick girls, like that mourning wretch there. Are we to stay loitering here because of her fooling? Away with it!"