A mahomedan’s story. 
117 
tion, but did not speak, as if she apprehended the 
possibility of her voice reaching the ear of him whom 
she dreaded more than the presiding A sura of Lohan- 
garaka. * 
“ I once more tried to induce her to communicate to 
me whether her captivity, for such in fact it might 
be called, was voluntary or constrained. A tear 
stole into her eye and trickled silently down her cheek. 
I approached her, but she shrank from me as if I had 
been the herald of the pestilence. I was a Maho- 
medan, and she had been taught to look upon the fol- 
lowers of Mahomet as the most odious among mankind. 
She seemed almost horror-stricken at my vicinity, and 
her distress momentarily increased. I could not pacify 
her. She became at length so frightfully agitated that I 
conceived it prudent to comply with her wishes, and 
leave the den to which she appeared to be consigned 
a hopeless and miserable victim. I groped my way 
through the long passage and got into the broad sun- 
light, with a gloomy impression upon my mind, which 
I in vain endeavoured to shake off. 
“ Shortly after I had quitted the precincts of this 
horrible retreat, what was my consternation at be- 
holding the fakeer almost at my side ! He had evi- 
dently returned upon my steps, and had seen me 
issue from his infernal cell. He passed me with- 
out a word, but his large rolling eyes glared upon me 
with an expression of speechless, yet intense malig- 
nity, threatening destruction at every glance, as if 
* Hot iron -coals. This is one of the twenty-one Hindoo hells 
mentioned in the Institutes of Menu, chap. iv. verses 88, 89, 
and 90. 
