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 the beautiful tyranny of Nature! Shaibalini, who could not speak for a time, at last said, almost suffocated under the pressure of a painful anxiety,

"What promise, Pratap?"

Pratap. Promise on the sacred waters of the Ganges—

Shaibalini. What right has a sinner like me to swear in the name of the holy Ganges?

Pratap. Then swear in the name of Religion—

Shaibalini. Ah, I have fallen from it long ago.

Pratap. Will you then swear by me?

Shaibalini. Come nearer, and let me have your hand.

Pratap came closer to Shaibalini, and took her hand in his, after a long, long time. It then became very difficult for them to swim. They again caught hold of the support.

Shaibalini then said, "Now I am ready to swear anything you like. Pratap, after what a long time I clasp your hand in mine!"

Pratap. Swear by me, or I will drown myself here. What is this life for? Who will willingly bear the burden of a sinful life? What can be more desirable than to lay down that burden on the