Thou wouldst make her unhappy!" His heart wrung to think that he was the unfortunate cause of this sad catastrophe.
"If there be life in her I will save her," said Gobindalal. He knew what to do in such cases as this. He raised her now to a sitting, now to a standing, posture; turned her this way and that and on every side, and continued this operation until she had thrown up nearly the whole of the quantity of water she had swallowed. This, however, did not induce respiration. But though this seemed a very difficult thing to accomplish Gobindalal was acquainted with the process, and he at once proceeded to try it. He told the gardener, who was a Uriah, to blow into her mouth while he slowly moved her arms up and down. The fellow was afraid. A cold sweat seemed to break upon him. If his master had told him to go before a tiger he might not have refused to do his bidding; but now he totally refused to obey him. It was, as it seemed to him, a preposterous order—a thing contrary to nature or reason, and he said, "I can't do it, master, I am sure I can't."
"Then you move her arms up and down, and I will do the blowing," said Gobindalal. And he showed him how the arms should be raised slowly and brought slowly down again while he blowed into her mouth. Gobindalal put his mouth to hers to blow. A thrill ran through his frame. But he was awake to nothing—nothing but his sacred duty—the duty to try his utmost to save her life. The operation of moving her arms up and down, and blowing continued for nearly two hours, at the end of which Rohini breathed. She belonged to the world again.
CHAPTER XVII.
Rohini now breathed freely. By slow degrees her consciousness returned. Gobindalal made her take some stimulant which seemed to increase the activity of the vital functions. She opened her eyes. There was nothing strange or unusual in her look; and she seemed exceedingly happy in his company. A candle burnt on a teapoy in one corner of the room. She had got back her memory. "I drowned myself. Why have you saved my life?" she said.
"God be thanked that you have got back your life," said Gobindalal.
"Why have you saved my life?" she said again. "What enmity is there between you and me that you should stand in the way of my dying? Why should I live to suffer if it could be helped?"
"No one has a right, Rohini, to kill oneself. It is a great sin."
"I do not know what act is sinful and what is not," said Rohini. "No one ever taught me. I doubt there are such things as virtue and vice; or why should I suffer without committing any very great sin in my life? This time you have saved my life, but in future I will take care to keep out of your way."
"Why should you die?" he said bitterly.
"Is it not better," said she, "to die at once than to die every day, every hour and every minute in my life?"
"What is your grief, Rohini?"
"Oh, I am dying of thirst. There is a spring of cool water before me, yet I am to hold off……
"Drop it, Rohini. Hush! It is getting on for eleven and you must go home. I will go with you if you will let me."
"No, thank you, I can go alone."
Gobindalal said nothing, for he saw what her objection was.
When she had gone Gobindalal felt he was no longer his own master. He was deeply in love with Rohini. His was a guilty passion, his conscience told him. Much as he wished to play the man and crush and trample it under foot he felt he was too weak. He sought help from on high to enable him to do so. But he had not the least restraint on his passion, and in his helplessness he threw himself on a bed and wept like a child.
CHAPTER XVIII.
"What made you stay away in the garden till such a late hour of night?" his wife asked when Gobindalal returned home.
"Why do you ask?" he said. "Did I never stay away so late as this before?"
"You did, but I fear something has happened tonight," said Bhramar.
"How do you know?" said her husband.
"Why," said she, "your very look and the tone of your voice seem to indicate it."
"What has happened?" said Gobindalal rather coolly.
"How am I to know? I was not there with you."
"No, but you can find out what is the
