Page:Srikanta (Part 1).djvu/135

Piari I said previously that this man was an expert story-teller. He now began to give an exhibition of his art. With eyes that now blazed, now darkened, with a gaze that seemed at times one glowing fire, and at other times awed us with its impression of horror and mystery, he began such a detailed explanation of my story—the mystery of everything that had happened overnight, from the weeping of the young vultures to the icy-cold breath on my ear—that my hair stood on end even then in broad daylight among so many people. I had not noticed that Piari had approached me silently as on the previous morning. The sound of a quick sigh made me turn my head, and I saw her sitting close behind me, staring at the speaker. Down her cheeks which were bright with animation two tears had coursed unnoticed, leaving a path that had become dry. She was all unconscious of my swift glance and of the picture that she made, with her vivid, tear-stained face eagerly lifted to the speaker, but the picture was stamped on my heart for ever in lines of fire. When the narrative was ended, she stood up and, asking with a bow the prince's permission to go, left the tent slowly and in silence.

I had intended to go in the morning, but as I was not feeling quite well, and had been requested by the prince to stay, I decided to go in the afternoon. I returned to my tent, pondering over the change in Piari's attitude towards me. Hitherto she had mocked and laughed at me, she had even made me feel the suggestion of a quarrel gathering in the look of her eyes; but such indifference—it was altogether new. And yet I was pleased rather than pained. Though it had never been my business to worry about the inner workings of a young woman's mind, and I had never done so, yet perhaps the varied and