Nabokumar, like a maniac, cried out "I have lost my senses. How could I ask you?—speak—Mrinmoyee!—speak—speak—speak—save me—and let us go home."
"I shall answer what you asked me" said Kapalkundala. "She whom you saw to-night is Padmabati. I never became faithless. What I tell you is a perfect truth. But I shall never return home. I have come to offer my body as sacrifice at the feet of Bhowani—and do it I must. Go home—I must die—and do not weep for me."
"No—Mrinmoyee—No"—ejaculated Nabokumar as he held forth his powerful arms to clasp her to his bosom but he missed her on this side of the grave. A big wave driven by a gust of the summer wind came tumbling on at the foot of the bank where Kapalkundala stood and, struck by it, the top came down with a crash and fell into the river dragging Kapalkundala with it. The noise of the land-slip met the ear of Nabokumar who also saw Kapalkundala disappear under water. Quick as a flash, Nabokumar plunged into the water. He was not a bad swimmer so he swam long and hard in search of Kapalkundala. He could not find her, so he himself never rose.
Tossed, up and down, by a high summer wind that blew across the river, the bodies of Kapalkundala and Nabokumar floated down the stream of the ever-flowing Ganges where who can say?
THE END.
