TORT OF AGRA. 
145 
entered the tomb at the foot of which he had built 
his little hut. 
While he was anxiously pursuing his search 
among the ruins, Behrid suddenly found himself 
in the presence of a most lovely damsel, exceedingly 
young and graceful, the radiant splendour of whose 
countenance shed a bright light throughout the 
vaulted apartment. The dewan fell upon his face 
before the exquisite beauty ; “ Oh, Luchmi ! ” cried 
he, “ most glorious goddess of felicity, wherefore dost 
thou thus mourn and lament P ” 
“ Ah, miserable Behrid,” replied the goddess, “ hast 
thou forgotten my commands ? hast thou not expelled 
me from my abode in the gateway of King Sadrak, by 
bringing into my presence thy disgraced wife, wdiose 
life was dearer to thee than her honour. Miserable 
man, thou art the ruin of the noble prince who has 
so generously sheltered and befriended thee. In 
consequence of thy crime, am I compelled to with- 
draw my favour and protection from the palace of the 
king.” 
Behrid trembled with fear, and his whole frame 
became distended with remorse ; he uttered a stifled 
groan, and buried his face in the dust, as he 
sobbed forth, — “Oh, thou most redoubtable Goddess ! 
may not the extreme contrition of thy slave be dis- 
played, and thy favour be regained for my lord the 
king by the voluntary sacrifice of thy slave’s life ? ” 
“ Nay, thou faithless miscreant,” replied the god* 
o 
