And then, little by little, the night gradually came to an end. And the sun rose up, out of his home in the eastern mountain, and began rapidly to climb into the sky.

And all at once, there arose a great hubbub, and an outcry in the King’s palace. And the women ran hither and thither, wailing and screaming and crying out: Haha! haha! the daughter of the King is gone. And they hunted in all directions, but could not find her anywhere: and they went and told the King. But he, when he heard it, came running just as he was in his night clothes, and hurried about with all the women, looking into every corner, and finding nothing. So after turning the palace upside down, he stopped short. And he said: What if she should have followed her lover up on to the city wall, and shared his fate! For beyond a doubt, like all his predecessors, he has vanished never to return.

Then they all went up the winding stair, the King going first. And he stepped out on to the wall. And instantly, with a piercing cry, he fell to the ground in a mortal swoon.

Then terror seized on all those women, and they stood exactly where they were, looking at each other with pale faces, not daring to advance. But at last, after a long while, supporting each the other, they pushed forward and looked out. And they saw the King’s body, lying on that of his daughter; and a little further off, Aja, lying upon his face.

Then they went out, and took up those three bodies, and carried them in, and examined them. And after a while, they said: Doubtless the heart of the old King broke, when he saw his daughter lying dead. But as for the other two, one snake has evidently bitten both. And yet, this is a wonderful thing. For she has been bitten on the foot, but her lover upon the lips. What then? Was he trying to kiss the snake, that it should bite him upon the lips? For how could even the biggest snake reach up so high, as this great Rajpoot’s mouth?