FilmIndia (Jan-Nov 1942)

February 1942 FILMINDIA "Not yet, Highness. You are not fit," Chandravali said. "Wait until you are strong enough to walk." Shamsher had no choice, for he was too weak to set foot to ground. So, slowly recovering, he stayed on in the home of the old templekeeper and the lovely Chandravali. It was a life different from any he had ever known. Chandravali, modest and grave and sweet, was with him as much as her duties permitted. She nursed him back to health; she talked with him for long pleasant hours in the shady garden of the little temple; she was an intelligent and delightful companion. IN CUPID'S HANDS From her he heard amazing tidings of the wife he had not yet seen —how, when the army of Bindi had finally overthrown that of Atari she had taken the reins of government into her own capable hands; how enraged and horrified at his appalling perfidy, she had thrown Chandrasen, although he was her father, into prison; how she now held both kingdoms; and how even in that short time the people already adored her; the soldiers would have dared anything for her, and her rule was reputed to be firm and wise. Shamsher heard all that amusedly; but it did not trouble him as even a week or so back it would have done. His thoughts were all of Chandravali — Chandravali, compa| nion and sweet friend, whose heart and mind were utterly in tune with his; Chandravali— the dear and desirable; in her simple white sari without a single jewel. He had, indeed, fallen deeply in : love with the temple-keeper's daughter, and she with him. This was love as Shamsher had always imagined and hoped for; his marriage to Kamla Rani was an ill dream that he only desired to forget. And as the pleasant days went by, a growing temptation whispered to him that it would be easy to leave her to reign and himself stay — unknown, unrecognised, believed dead —in peaceful Dharam Pur, married to the girl of his choice. One day he said so to Chandravali. Somehow he had known all along how she would take it. Chandravali, her delicate loveliness close in his embrace in the green shade of the temple garden, shook her head. "Beloved, that may not be," she said. "I love you — oh, and dearly; but I will not be the cause of your breaking faith with the dead. You must go back, and take over the throne, and reign as becomes a man; indeed it is no part of a woman's work. "Yet she has proved herself a worthy ruler," Shamsher said. "That may be; but was it Jagmehr Singh's wish that any woman — least of all the daughter of Chandrasen, murderer and false friend — should possess his beloved land?" "At any rate," said Shamsher with finality, "I shall not go yet. For the present Bindi is in good hands; and I — I am in yours, beloved." Chandravali sighed and was silent. TOUCHSTONE OF LOVE The peace df the following day was broken by a disturbance unusual in quiet little Dharam Pur. A small group of men, splendidly accoutred, rode up to the templekeeper's hut. Chandravali was absent on her duties qnd Shamsher met them as their leader dismounted. "Majesty," said the latter, "I am come as an envoy from Her Majesty Kamla Rani of Bindi. She sends you this letter and bids me await your return with me." Shamsher opened and read it. It was brief and to the point. It informed him without parley that Kamla Rani, having learned that he lived, desired his presence by her side. "As our husband, and the general commanding our armies," she