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Updated: June 12, 2025
"Savitre, I am more compassionate than you think, and I have here a draught which will send you into a deep sleep. The pain of death will thus be saved you," Konmia broke in severely, holding a vessel toward the girl. "No, no!" Savitre shrieked, pushing the potent drink away. "I cannot!
Your daughter went to see him for the last time, and returns, overcome with grief and sorrow." Without a word, but very white, the viceroy carried his child to her room, and left her in the care of Savitre and her two attendants, while he went to find the particulars of Falcam's tragic end.
A silvery laugh broke suddenly on the silence which had fallen between them, and Savitre, leaning lightly on Panteleone's arm, stood before them. The rajah's young widow made a strange contrast to Lianor, gay with rich colors. Judging from Panteleone's ardent gaze, he, at least, saw some beauty in the dusky, changing face. "What, Sampayo!
A few days later a grand old ship, bound for Portugal, started from that coast, bearing the wrecked crew to their former destination. Panteleone's father received Savitre with almost paternal love, and some months after their arrival, when their mourning for poor Lianor was lessened, the two faithful hearts became one.
"Savitre," Leone said suddenly, "would you be willing to leave your country to go with me to Portugal?" Savitre gazed at him in some wonderment. "Surely you are not thinking of leaving India?" she cried, a sudden anxiety dawning in her dark eyes. "Yes; my father wishes me to return, and as soon as Lianor is married we are going."
She stopped; the outstretched arms fell inertly down, the graceful head drooped, and without one cry or moan, Lianor fell heavily to the ground unconscious. "Explain, Savitre Sampayo, what means this strange raving? Who is dead?" Don Garcia said, fearfully. "It means that Luiz Falcam was found murdered this morning!
Not many days after, Manuel Tonza, his wife, children, Panteleone, and Savitre, accompanied by several faithful servants, including Lalli and Tolla, embarked in a fine stately ship, which was to bear them in safety to their home. Tonza seemed full of joy as he saw the last lines of the Indian coast disappear. He had rarely appeared so happy since his marriage with Lianor five years before.
Savitre, who had never cared to leave her friend before, even to become Panteleone's bride, entered into the preparations with unconcealed eagerness. She had faithfully promised her lover that, once in Portugal, she would, with his father's approval, marry him. Lianor felt no regret at leaving India, except for a loved grave her father's which she had so carefully tended.
A convulsive shudder shook Lianor's slender frame as she gazed on those handsome features set in death's awful calm; the closed eyes, which would never look into her own again; the cold lips which would never breathe loving words into her ear, or press her brow in fond affection. She could not weep, as Savitre wept; tears refused to ease the burning pain at her heart.
"Lianor, may I speak before Savitre?" the don asked gravely. "Of course, papa. I have no secrets from her." "My child," drawing her nearer to him, "Luiz Falcam has asked your hand in marriage; what answer shall I give him?" Lianor blushed divinely, and her dark eyes shyly drooped before the eager glance from those loving blue ones fixed upon her. "He saved my life, father.
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