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 ashore, landing his precious charge safely on the shore.

When Nobo Kumar entered the pavilion he saw the miserable Noren seated on the ground surrounded by infuriated soldiers, who were threatening him with violence every moment.

"Stand back," said Nobo Kumar, with the voice of thunder, and the soldiers retired outside the pavilion.

"Thou, Noren," said Nobo Kumar, in a voice still trembling with rage, and with weakness after his recent struggle in the river, "thou, whom I have brought up from childhood and I had desired to restore to thy grandfather's estate, thou hast attempted to take the life of thy guardian, thy friend, thy benefactor."

"I am guilty of the worst of crimes, Nobo Kumar," said the youth, with deep contrition. "Slay me where I stand, I am unworthy to live."

There was a stillness in the pavilion, and not a voice was heard. Sirish alone ventured to break that silence.

"Permit me one word, sir, for I know Noren as no one else knows him. He is rash, he is thoughtless, he is insane when under excitement, but no thought of injuring a hair of your venerable head ever entered his mind. The sad accident of this evening is due to his rashness, which deserves your just ire, not to any intent to do harm, of which Noren is guiltless."

There was a pause. At last Nobo Kumar spoke in a few measured words.

"The Governor of Bengal will be the judge of Noren's conduct—of his rashness or his murderous