He could no longer contain himself. His utterance was choked; his eyes filled with tears; the dauntless, haughty Virendra Singha hung down his head and wept like a child.
Katlu Khan was constitutionally hard;—so much so that he delighted in the pain of a fellow-creature. Seeing the plight of his proud enemy, his face betokened joy.
"Virendra Singha," said he, "would you ask anything at my hands? Consider, Sir, your end is near."
Tears had brought relief to the burning heart.
"Nothing save this," answered Virendra calmly, "order my execution soon."
Katlu. "It shall be so; any thing more?"
Answer. "Nothing in this life."
Katlu. "Would you not look your last upon your daughter?"
At this the spectators became silent for grief. Fire sparkled in Virendra's eyes.
"What!" cried he; "will nothing less satisfy you than trampling under foot this crushed heart?" He then continued with less vehemence, "Do so; I am powerless in this life. But in the next you shall answer for it before the tribunal of God."
This touched the heart of Katlu Khan; for is there a sinner whose heart trembles not at the sound of that dread Name?
"No more" said he; "executioner, do your office."
Silence held that vast concourse of people in breathless suspense; so much so that the fall of a needle could have been heard.
The guards led Virendra to the place of execution. He had not yet reached it, when a Musalman whispered something into his ear. Virendra could not understand it. The individual
