bank, and entered the forest. He walked on and on till the path closed and the dense trees, tangled with creepers, stopped him with fantastic gestures.
Tired, he sat on the ground. But who was it that followed him in silence, the long dark way, and stood at his back like a phantom?
‘Will you not leave me?’ shouted Vajrasen.
In a moment the woman fell upon him with an impetuous flood of caresses; with her tumbling hair and trailing robes, with her showering kisses and panting breath she covered him all over.
In a voice choked with pent-up tears, she said: ‘No, no; I shall never leave you. I have sinned for you. Strike me, if you will; kill me with your own hands.’
The still blackness of the forest shivered for a moment; a horror ran through the twisting roots of trees underground. A groan and a smothered breath rose through the night, and a body fell down upon the withered leaves.
The morning sun flashed on the far-away spire of the temple when Vajrasen came out of the woods. He wandered in the hot sun the whole day by the river on the sandy waste, and never rested for a moment.
