Rin-dzin agreed to this proposition, and climbed in by the window into the dead man’s room, and, concealing himself near the corpse, he awaited the arrival of his friend. Meanwhile the Thief went boldly up to the front door and gave a loud knock; and being admitted by the servants, he went straight to the chamber of the young lady of the house.
“Who are you?” said she; “and what do you want?”
“Oh! sister,” he replied, “I am your long-lost brother; do you not recognise me?” [[129]]
“No,” said she, “it would be impossible for me to recognise you, as I was only a little child when you ran away. No one but my father could know you and he, alas! died yesterday.”
“That is very sad,” replied the Thief, “for indeed it will be difficult for me to prove the truth of my story. Let us, however, go into the room where my father’s corpse is lying, and ask it whether or no I am his long-lost son.”
The girl agreed to this, and the two went together into the chamber where the old man’s corpse was sitting trussed-up for burial, in accordance with the Tibetan custom.
“Are you there, father,” said the Thief, as he entered the darkened room; and Rin-dzin, in a sepulchral voice replied, “Ah.”
“I have come to ask you,” went on the Thief, “whether or no I am your long-lost son.”
“You are,” replied Rin-dzin.
And on hearing this the Thief at once retired, followed by the young girl, who was now completely convinced of his identity.