164 
SCENES IN INDIA. 
Returning pensively from the spot, he approached 
his home with a sad and ominous presentiment. He 
dreaded to encounter the reproaches of his bride, 
who, he knew, would not think favourably of his 
escape from a field which had terminated so dis- 
astrously for him. There was a weight upon his 
spirits which he could not shake off, but, trusting 
to the strength of her young affections, he bent 
forward with some confidence to meet her. When he 
reached the house which during the previous day had 
resounded with the bridal festivity, he found the door 
barred, and was thus denied an entrance to his 
home. Thinking that this might have been done 
in order to prevent surprise from the enemy, he 
knocked with a determined but trembling hand. He 
who had fearlessly braved death in its most ap- 
palling forms, cowered before the anticipated indig- 
nation of a woman. As the door was not opened, 
he struck upon it with the hilt of his scimitar. 
“ Who knocks V* calmly asked a voice from within, 
which he instantly recognised, and his heart thrilled 
with the tenderest emotions. 
“ Thy bridegroom, my sita,” he replied with the 
energy of awakened passion ; “ open, and bid him 
welcome.” 
“ Hah ! how went the battle ?” inquired the Raj- 
pootni in the same unimpassioned but somewhat stern 
tone, that sent a cold chill through the whole mass of 
his blood. 
" Against us. I alone am left to tell the sad tale 
of defeat. Every Rahtore, save myself, lies upon the 
bloody field. It was in truth a contest of extermina- 
