A cloud of mud rose from the bottom, obscuring everything, and the next few seconds seemed to me horribly, horribly long.
All the women now rushed up, uttering deafening cries, wringing their hands and tearing their clothing. It was high time truly!—but much good did it do! I would have been glad to throw them all into the lake....
At last I found and grasped the poor little Princess, and raised her, unconscious, and as if dead—dripping, and covered with black mud.
The governesses attempted to take her away from me in order to conceal their fault; but I was resolved it should be known, and, paying no regard to their clamours, I started to run to the palace.
It was a reception day; Saphire-of-Heaven was in the great Hall of the Throne, surrounded by courtiers and the Ladies of her suite. I entered without ceremony, interrupting the conversation, and the dances of the Bayaderes, and going straight to the Queen, I laid on her knees the child, all covered with mud, and without breath or motion.
Saphire-of-Heaven at first could not understand what had happened, and was about to throw off the black mass which was saturating her dress, but suddenly she recognized Parvati:
"My Daughter!" exclaimed she, "and in what a condition! Dead, perhaps!"
A physician was present and advanced.
"Calm yourself, your Majesty," said he, "It is only a fainting fit."
He took the child, removed its wet clothing, gave orders, and all present hastened to busy themselves in services to the little Princess.