Day had scarcely dawned, when his camp was attacked with a fury which nothing but the better discipline of his soldiers, and great numerical superiority, could have repelled. The Rajpoots, headed by their late governor’s widow, fought with a desperation which, for the moment, bore down all opposition. The widow urged her horse with heedless fury towards Akbar’s tent. An Omrah placing himself before her to oppose her further progress, she buried a short spear in his body, and, continuing her career, reached the royal pavilion. Here she was opposed by the guards, the foremost of whom struck her in the face with his sword; but having speared him, she flung herself from the back of her charger, and, rushing into the tent, sprang towards the couch,--it was empty. With some difficulty she was secured, but not until she had wounded several of the guard, and received a second severe wound in the neck, from which the blood flowed so copiously that she was obliged to relinquish the contest, becoming faint and unable to continue her exertions. By this time her followers had been nearly all cut off, and few returned to the city to bear the lamentable tale of discomfiture. Akbar entered his tent, and saw the noble woman who had made such a brave effort to avenge her husband’s death fainting upon the ground, reeking with her own blood and that of her foes. He instantly ordered her wound to be dressed, and that she should be carefully attended during the night. He was charmed with her heroism, he reverenced her distress, and determined to offer very advantageous terms on the morrow if the garrison would capitulate. The obstinacy of the besieged had won his admiration, and he was heard to say to a confidential officer that with such troops he would undertake to conquer the world. Next morning the captive widow rose from her couch, and demanded to see the Emperor. She was immediately brought before him. “Sovereign of the Moguls,” she said, undauntedly, “I have thrice sought your life. I have freely braved your vengeance. I am prepared for the infliction which I have provoked, and my failure deserves. What death am I to die?” “Allah forbid, lady, that I should punish any one for trying to take away the life of a foe in honourable warfare. It is but natural that you should seek to accomplish the death of him who has destroyed your husband, not from feelings of enmity, for I admired his bravery and esteemed his patriotism, but as a melancholy means to a glorious end. His death is one of those sad contingencies inseparable from a state of active hostility. I have now to propose to you terms for the capitulation of Chittore.” “If I have influence to decide upon a proposal that involves the dishonour of my countrymen, I will bid them resist till there shall no longer remain among them an arm to strike.” “But, lady, the terms I intend to offer will be alike honourable to you and the inhabitants of yonder fortress.”