"Papa"--the sweet voice was very coaxing, and the red lips close to his cheek--"say yes, darling; it will make me so happy."

"But suppose any danger should threaten you?"

"I should be there to defend my cousin with my life!" Leone cried, fervently.

Don Gracia smiled.

"You speak bravely, my boy; but as yet you are very young. However, as Lianor has set her heart upon this expedition, I suppose I must say yes. In case of danger, I will send some soldiers to escort you."

"Oh, thank you, papa! I am so glad! Come, Leone, we will make haste, so as to set off ere the day gets more advanced."

And warmly embracing her father, the girl sped swiftly away, followed by her cousin.

In half an hour the cortege was ready, and, after some little hesitation on Don Garcia's part, they started.

Lianor, with her two favorite maids, Lalli and Tolla, were cosily seated in a palanquin carried by four strong men. Before, clearing her path from all difficulties, went a body of twenty-five soldiers.

Beside her, Panteleone kept up a cheerful conversation, pointing out the beauties of the palaces through which they pa.s.sed. Some twenty natives, armed with poignards, brought up the rear.

Toki, a native who had grown old in the Viceroy's palace, led the way toward one of the ruined temples--that erected to Siva, the G.o.d of Destruction.

Lianor gazed with awed eyes at the magnificent palace, still bearing traces of former beauty.

"How wonderful! I must stay here, Leone, and sketch those old statues.

We need go no farther."

The day was beginning to get intensely hot, so the men were nothing loth to seek shelter in the cool temple, to sleep away the sunny hours.

Sketch-book in hand, the girl chose a shady retreat outside, and was soon lost in her work.

Presently the dreamy silence was broken; faint cries from afar reached her; and looking hastily up, Lianor saw a sight which made her stand rooted to the spot in speechless horror.

In the distance, pouring from out the mountains, were a mult.i.tude of Indians clad in divers costumes, carrying in their hands fantastic idols, and followed by a train of Brahmins, singing a low, monotonous chant, which had warned the girl of their approach.

Recovering her self-possession, and calling to the startled servants, Lianor entered the temple, where Panteleone and the men were quietly dozing.

"Leone, awake! The Indians are coming!"

The youth sprang to his feet, and, flinging one arm round his cousin, he drew a sharp poignard from his sash, and clutched it firmly.

"Do not be afraid, Lianor. I will guard you with my life!" he said bravely.

"But is there no way to escape?" Lianor asked wildly, frightened at the peril into which her folly had brought them all.

"We might have gone; but it is too late. They are here," Toki said gravely. "The only thing we can do is to hide amongst these broken statues, and perhaps we may be safe from their view."

Scarcely had this been done than the procession arrived, stopped before the temple, and the men commenced building a huge square pile of wood; on this they placed a bier, on which lay the corpse of an old man, decked with silks and costly jewels.

Lianor and Panteleone, watching from their hiding-place the strange preparations, now saw a girl, very young and beautiful, but weeping bitterly, being dragged toward the pile by a tall, hard-looking woman.

"Come!" she cried, in loud, ringing tones, "now is the time to uphold the honor of your family, and show your courage!"

With a shudder the girl drew back, and clasping her hands piteously together, said:

"Why should I thus sacrifice my young life to the cruelty of your customs? I cannot endure the thought of being burnt alive--it is too horrible!"

"It is your duty! A widow must follow her husband in death," coldly.

The youthful widow burst into pa.s.sionate weeping, and gave an agonized glance around at the vindictive faces; not one among that mult.i.tude, she thought, felt pity for the girl who was condemned to so horrible a fate.

She was mistaken, and a second gaze revealed a young boy, not more than fifteen, who was quietly sobbing, an expression of deep anguish on his face.

"Satzavan, my poor brother, you also have come to witness my painful end!"

The boy went toward her, and wound his arms around her slim waist, drawing the dark head onto his shoulder.

"I would that I could help you," he whispered. "But what can I do among all these fiends?"

"It is hard to die thus--so hard."

"Savitre, I am more compa.s.sionate than you think, and I have here a draught which will send you into a deep sleep. The pain of death will thus be saved you," Konmia broke in severely, holding a vessel toward the girl.

"No, no!" Savitre shrieked, pushing the potent drink away. "I cannot!

Think how awful to awaken with the cruel flames wreathing round my body, and my cries for help useless, deadened by the yells of those people. I cannot--I will not die!"

Satzavan, deathly white, and with quivering features, drew her shuddering frame closer to him, and led her into the temple.

"Leave us for a moment, I implore you," he said, turning to his aunt.

"She loves me, and I may perhaps reconcile her to her fate."

"You are the head of your family; I trust to you to bring her to reason--to save the honor of a name until now without blemish," Konmia replied, and placing the poisonous flask in Satzavan's hand, she left them alone in the temple.

"Quick, Savitre; we will drink this draught together, and when they seek you, they will find us both cold in death."

"You also, my brother, speak of death! I must escape--I cannot sacrifice my life!"

"Nor shall you," a gentle voice broke in pa.s.sionately, and Lianor, her face full of tender compa.s.sion, stood before the victim, Panteleone beside her.

"Follow me," the latter said briefly, drawing the girl's arm through his. "Trust us, and you will yet be saved."

With joyful hearts the two Indians accompanied their kind protectors, climbing among the broken G.o.ds, higher and higher, until they at last arrived without the temple, the other side from where the Indians were a.s.sembled.

There they were rejoined by the soldiers and attendants, and the little party commenced their homeward journey, hoping the wild group would not discover their presence.

But their hopes were not to be realized; ere they had gone many yards, the flight of the rajah's widow had been discovered, and with hideous cries they sought eagerly to find her.

It was not long ere they espied the small party, and full of triumph dashed toward them.

"Lianor, keep back--leave me to deal with these barbarians!"

Panteleone said hurriedly, and in a minute a deadly fight began between the Indians and the soldiers.