Page:Durgesa Nandini.djvu/181

 "You shall see that to-morrow morning before the Nabab," said he.

"When father will ask"—replied she in the same manner, "I shall answer him; you needn't be uneasy on that score."

"And what if I asked?" said he in the same railing tone.

Aesha started to her feet, and for a while fixed her gaze on Osman. Her expansive eyes became more expansive, her lily-like countenance became still more blooming, her head with the raven-black locks slightly inclined to one side, her bosom heaved with rising emotion, like moss swyayed by the waves. In clear, ringing tones, she said,

"If you ask, Osman, I can tell you that the prisoner before us is—the lord of my bosom."

Had the thunder burst there at that moment, neither the Rajput nor the Pathan could have been startled more highly. The Prince felt as if some one had illumined his mental darkness;—he now understood the meaning and import of Aesha's silent weeping. Osman had ere this surmised as much, and had therefore rebuked Aesha in such a way; but that she should declare her love in his very presence, had not entered his head. Osman was silent.

"Listen, Osman," continued she, "this prisoner is the lord of my bosom. While a particle of life continues to warm this frame, none else can hope to find a place there. If it so happen that to-morrow the ground of execution be drenched with his blood—" here she shuddered, "still, still, you will find me enshrining his dear image in my heart of hearts and worshipping it for ever and a day. If this moment is destined to be the last of our seeing each other, if he be released to-morrow, and 23