Yhahil had now proceeded too far to retreat, and on the following day she appeared once more at the jiggerkhar’s den. The prophetess was seated as usual before the entrance, and received her visitor with a smile, as the latter dropped ten gold mohurs into her filthy hand. She now took from her pocket a snake, and shaking it by the throat with her finger and thumb, made it hiss violently; then muttering a few words she entered the cave, and desired the anxious Pariah to follow. This the latter did without emotion, having so frequently obeyed the injunction, without witnessing any terrifying result. In fact, her anxiety had now reached to such a painful climax, that she felt reckless of all consequences, and stood with unshrinking firmness in the presence of one possessing, as she imagined, the awful power of divination. She had not remained long within the cavern when she heard the snake hiss; the dog uttered a heavy moan, a sudden flash was seen to break through the gloom, and a stream of blue light rose from the floor: the whole space was illuminated. The old woman stood behind the flame, which shone full upon her unearthly form, throwing over it a pale grey, quivering radiance, which added tenfold to the natural hideousness of her aspect. The snake was coiled round her neck; a guana[27] crawled at her feet, where the dog lay with its head erect, looking into her face. Yhahil blanched not, though every drop of her blood appeared to recede with a sudden gush upon her heart. “The word of divination comes,” said the sybil. “Your destiny has been perused, and it will be as fruitful as you have been liberal. You will not live a maiden, and you will die ennobled. Go to the Mogul capital, and look for the consummation of a blessed lot, or remain where you are, and perish an outcast. Go,--your doom has been read.” The light now gradually faded, and the place was involved in intense darkness. Yhahil quitted the cavern. Absurd and evident as the juggle had been, she was fully impressed with a notion that she had heard the voice of an oracle. Her bosom swelled with joyous anticipations. She seemed to tread on the clouds as she sought her home. For days her spirits were so buoyant that her parents became uneasy: the excitement, however, at length subsided, and she appeared to have become rationally happy. This was an event of real gladness to the delighted father, a feeling also in which the mother fully participated. FOOTNOTES: [25] See Ayeen Ackberry. [26] The gold mohur is worth about five and thirty shillings. It passes in India for twenty rupees. CHAPTER IV. “My father,” said Yhahil, one day, “I have a great desire to visit the Mogul capital.” “Why, my child?” “Because the Mahomedans have no more antipathy towards Pariahs than they have towards the castes; and among them our wealth would gain us respect, though our social degradation did not.”