Gunesh! Choose now between her and me; or choose, rather, between Veru's barren kisses and my curse, for the child will die if the evil eye be not averted by charms. Choose, I say; for, by my father's soul, if this bastard half-a-man enters the house, I leave it!" "Nay, mother! I did but suggest. Veru--" "O Veru! Veru! I am sick of the name. 'Tis she who hath bewitched thee; 'tis her evil eye--" He interrupted her fiercely, seizing her by the wrist. "Peace, I say, mother! Peace! I will not hear such words." "They are true for all that. She hath bewitched thee!" They stood for a moment face to face, so like each other in their anger and dread. Then the strong man quailed, and fled before her words and his own thoughts. He was no wiser than his fellows, for all the soft heart that betrayed him into progress; perhaps less so, since the superstitions of his fathers enslaved his mind without controlling his affections. He wandered into the fields once more, where the rows of blossoming mustard sown among the wheat showed like a yellow sea against the horizon, but close at hand broke the green gloom of the earing corn in long, curling waves crested with gold--a sight dear to husbandmen's eyes! Yet it brought no comfort to the dull ache in Gunesh's heart, which drove him to finish work with the first excuse of waning light. The child was at least no worse. Perhaps the warmth had soothed its pain; perhaps the feeble life was sinking silently; but the ignorant, loving eyes that watched it knew not whether the stillness made for sleep or death. Save for Gunesh Chund and his wife the house was empty, for his mother had sought the relief of words with a neighbouring crony. "Veru," said Gunesh in a whisper, as if the darkening walls had ears, "dost think the doctor might do her good? The mother will not have him here--mayhap she is right--but I could take the child to him." "O husband!" Brought face to face with decision, the woman shrank from action. "I know not, and the mother would be so angry." But the slower mind and warmer heart had been at work on the problem, and ciphered it out once and for all. "She need never know. Sit within, silent, as if thou hadst it still, should she return. I shall not be long; so give