"As your future husband, eh?" enquired he.
"As my dearest brother."
Osman's countenance fell.
"God! God! ever on that key!" ejaculated he. "God of Heaven, in such a flowery frame hast thou closed in a heart of stone!"
After conveying Aesha to her mother's apartment, Osman returned to his quarters, with a heavy heart.
CHAPTER III.
"AR'NT YOU TILOTTAMA?"
IN the evening of the next day, Aesha, Osman and the physician were seated in silence in the room where Jagat Singha was lying. Aesha was seated on the couch, engaged in fanning the Prince and that sort of thing; the physician was momentarily feeling his pulse. The Prince was insensible. The physician had said, "Most probably he dies when the fever remits. If he escape that, he will surely be cured."
The remission was fast approaching; and it was for this reason that all were held in breathless suspense. The physician was incessantly feeling the Prince's pulse. "Low," "lower still," "a little high,"—such were his frequent exclamations in a suppressed tone.
