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Two years had passed when my duties again called me to Bombay, and, because I knew the country and the language well, I was left there to undertake another mission.

I finished what I had to do as quickly as possible, and as I had a considerable amount of spare time on my hands I determined to go and see my friend the King of Ganhard and my dear little Châli once more, though I expected to find her much changed.

The rajah received me with every demonstration of pleasure, and hardly left me for a moment during the first day of my visit. At night, however, when I was alone, I sent for Haribada, and after several misleading questions I said to him:

“Do you know what has become of little Châli, whom the rajah gave me?”

He immediately assumed a sad and troubled look, and said, in evident embarrassment:

“We had better not speak of her.”

“Why? She was a dear little woman.”

“She turned out badly, Sir.”

“What — Châli? What has become of her? Where is she?”

“I mean to say that she came to a bad end.”

“A bad end! Is she dead?”

“Yes. She committed a very dreadful action.”

I was very much distressed. I felt my heart beat, and my breast was oppressed with grief, and insisted on knowing what she had done and what had happened to her.

The man became more and more embarrassed, and murmured, “You had better not ask about it.”

“But I want to know.”

“She stole— “

“Who — Châli? What did she steal?”

“Something that belonged to you.”

“To me? What do you mean?”

“The day you left she stole that little box which the prince had given you; it was found in her hands.”

“What box are you talking about?”

“The box covered with shells.”

“But I gave it to her.”

The Indian looked at me with stupefaction, then replied: “Well, she declared with the most sacred oaths that you had given it to her, but nobody could believe that you could have given a king’s present to a slave, and so the rajah had her punished.”

“How was she punished? What was done to her?”

“She was tied up in a sack, and thrown into the lake from this window, from the window of the room in which we are, where she had committed the theft.”

I felt the most terrible grief that I ever experienced, and I made a sign to Haribada to go away, so that he might not see my tears; and I spent the night on the gallery that looked on to the lake, on the gallery where I had so often held the poor child on my knees.

I pictured to myself her pretty little body lying decomposed in a sack in the dark waters beneath me, which we had so often looked at together formerly.

The next day I left again, in spite of the rajah’s entreaties and evident vexation; and I now still feel as if I had never loved any woman but Châli.