A Syrup of the Bees

by F. W. Bain

XI

But Makarandiká started, and she exclaimed within herself: Pandits! Ha! Then, as it seems, he really is dreaming of the things of his former birth. And her eyes grew darker as she watched him, sitting in her swing, very still, with one foot upon the ground. And all at once, she left the swing, and came to him very quickly, and knelt, sitting upon her feet, upon the ground, beside him, gazing at him in silence as he slept, with eyes that never left his face for even a single instant.

But the soul of Arunodaya, leaving his body lying on the couch, flew back like a flash of lightning eagerly to his dream. And once more he found himself in that hall, with all its pandits shouting, just as if he had never left it to awake. And lo! the eyes of Sarojiní were fastened on his own, as if with joy; and in his relief, occasioned by sudden freedom from the fear of the dream having reached its termination, and the recovery of those eyes, his heart was filled with such a flood of ecstasy that, all unaware, he laughed in his sleep. And in the meantime, that unabashed and clever maid came forward, and seized by the hand another king, and led him forward like the last. And she said, exactly as before: King, listen and reply to the question that the husband of Sarojiní must answer well.

And then once more, the eyes of Sarojiní lingered for a little on those of Arunodaya, and left him, as if reluctant to depart, and rested, as if carelessly, upon that second king. And she said in the silence that waited, as it were, for her to speak: Maháráj, say, shall I choose the greater or the less?

And that unhappy king hesitated for an instant; and he said: The less.

Then said Sarojiní: Alas! O King, once more I am unfortunate: for I should be inexcusable, in choosing thee.

And instantly, she turned, and her eyes met those of Arunodaya, waiting in the extremity of agitation, with a glance that seemed to say to him: Be not afraid. And as he sighed in his sleep, for delight, lo! once again, she and her eyes, and the pandits, and the shouting, and the hall, shivered, and wavered, and receded into the darkness, and went out and disappeared. And the din of the triumph of the pandits changed and altered and ended in the roar of the waves and the rushing of the wind. And once more he awoke and opened his eyes: and lo! there just in front of him was Makarandiká, with eyes that gazed, as if with wrath, straight into his own.

And when she saw his open, she said in a low voice, very slowly: Of what wert thou dreaming? And Arunodaya murmured: Of pandits. And instantly, he closed his eyes, as if to shut her from his soul. And then, he forgot her in an instant, and flew back, as if escaping from a pursuer, into his dream.