In delirious ravings Sangita told her people that when she knelt on the
moss, and, wringing her hands, bewailed that it had not sought the
shelter of a Secure Resting Place, the gazelle reproached her.
'I know not of that country,' it said, 'it is not here.'
And this, although the wild speech of a fevered brain, gained credit
with the populace, and the Wild Gazelle cherished by the good princess
became a memory fraught with awe and superstition. For me, I believe
that the devout and good heart utters wisdom unawares, and that the
tongue habituated to golden speech may drop riches even when the light
of reason is withdrawn. The sickness of Sangita was mortal, but her mind
cleared before she expired, and she then obtained from the King her
father a promise that over her ashes should be erected a lodge whose
door, never fastened, might afford a Haven of Retreat such as her
fevered dream desired!"
They looked on the tomb, its walls gleamed white through the foliage
that draped it. It was old and neglected. The door was nearly concealed
from view by the luxuriant growth of many years, and when they examined
it closely they found that it hung on one rusty hinge.
"May we believe," asked Bertram, "that the tender fancy of the dying
princess was ever verified by the actual shelter here of a fugitive?"
"The story is ancient," replied Nawab Khan, "and I cannot say. The
lesson she taught would forbid the finding anywhere a Place of Rest.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63