# Krishnakanta's Will (Chatterjee, Roy)/Part 2/Chapter 14

CHAPTER XIV.
It happened that Bhramar fell so ill again that she became confined to her bed. On hearing of it her sister, Jamini, came to Haridragram to nurse her. The doctor, under whose treatment she had been placed, was not without his fears about her. Her disease was rapidly on the increase, eating into her vitals, until her strength completely failed. Then it seemed that death was not distant. Madhabinath was now constantly by his daughter's bedside, feeding her, and administering medicine, with his own hands.
A month flew by. She was worse and worse. The doctor could well see what the end would be, and ventured one day to pronounce that her case was hopeless.
"Dear sister," said Bhramar to Jamini, "I shall never get well again. It is no use my taking medicine any longer, for I feel that the cold hand of death is upon me. I love a moon-light night. If I die next month I wish it could be on the night of the full moon. I shall wait the day, sister. Something in me tells me that I shall not outlive it."
Jamini wept.
They urged her no more to take medicine, for they felt it was no use. However, as time went on she was found more and more cheerful till she again seemed as jolly and jocose as in the happy old days. In vain did Jamini entertain a hope that she might yet recover when for the first time for many days she found her sister in such good spirits. She little thought that her cheerfulness was only like the flash of a lamp about to go out.
Her end drew nearer and nearer; yet she was calm and wore a smile on her face. At length arrived that last terrible day and she knew it by Jamini's silent weeping and an exchange of significant looks among those about, who had called to see her. There was an awful silence in the house. "I feel very uneasy; I fear to-day is the last day of my life," she said when she was alone with her sister.
Jamini burst into loud sobs.
"Do not weep," she said, "oh, do not, dear sister, until I am gone. I have only a few hours left. I wish to talk to you while I can."
She wiped away her tears and nestled closer to her, trying to look more easy as she smoothed back a few stray locks that fell over the pale brow.
"I wish to be alone with you for a while, sister," said Bhramar. "I wish for something."
Evening drew on, and then it ran into night.
"Is it a moon-light night?" asked Bhramar.
Jamini stepped up to an open window and said it was.
"Open the window nearest me, top and bottom, and let me look upon the moon-light," she said. "I love it very much."
Jamini did as she was asked, and let in a flood of moon-light, that lit up a portion of the sick-room.
"Dear sister," she said again, "will you open that window there and see if there are any flowers growing in the garden below?"
Seven years before in summer-time Gobindalal used occasionally at day-break to stand at the window indicated to enjoy the freshness of the dawn and the sweet perfume of flowers wafted from the garden below. That window had never been opened since, and her sister had now some difficulty in throwing it open for its having for long been allowed to remain closed.
Jamini looked attentively. "I see nothing," said she, "except a few withered trees and a rank growth of weeds and other useless plants."
"Seven years before there was a garden there," said Bhramar, sighing. "For want of care the trees have withered and died out."
A silence fell between them. After a while she said again, "I love flowers. Will you order a maid to get me some?"
The order was quickly given to a servant woman, and in a little time she brought in a quantity of roses and other sweet-smelling flowers.
"Strew these on my bed," she said, "as on the night following my bridal."
Jamini did it with an affectionate care.
"That will do," she said. "But—oh, how I wish—" She stopped; and a big tear slowly coursed down her cheek.
"What else you wish done, dear? Oh, ​tell me. I cannot bear to see you weep," said Jamini.
"—How I wish 'he' had come. When he left me I proudly told him he would repent and seek me again some day. Oh, if I could but see him at my death—if! Then—then I shall have forgotten all my sufferings through seven long years."
"Be comforted, love," said Jamini. "You will see him very soon. Rest assured you will."
"Ah, never. It is God's will that I should be denied even this momentary happiness, for I am on the very threshold of the next world."
"Dear sister, I did not think it proper to tell you without preparing you for the news lest the excitement should have any very bad effect on you. He is come. Gobindalal is here. Father wrote to tell him of your illness. He arrived only about two hours ago."
She made a feeble effort to rise, but Jamini prevented her. Tears flowed fast from her eyes. "Oh, bring him here," she said as soon as her emotion allowed her to speak. "Go quick—leave me alone. There is no time to be lost."
Jamini rose and left the room. In a little time with a soft faltering step Gobindalal after many years entered his own chamber.
There was death-like stillness in the room where in one corner a lamp burned low.
Sadly and softly he approached her and sat down by her side on the bed. Both remained mute for a while as they gazed at each other with eyes which overflowed with tears.
"Come nearer to me," she said when she had the control of her voice.
He crept closer to her and took her wasted hand in his. "Oh, can you forgive me, Bhramar!" he said, speaking hysterically.
"I have forgiven all—all before you could ask. May God forgive you."
There was a pause.
"Kiss me," she said again; "one last kiss to say that you love me yet."
He bent over her, he gently pushed the hair from her brow and kissed her, the tears gushing from his eyes. "Oh, I was mad when I left you," he said in the greatest anguish of his heart.
"I am happy." And her features lit up in the brightness of a smile. "Lay your hand in a farewell blessing on my head," she said again, "and—and speak the wish that I may be happy—hereafter." Then before he knew it, and while her hand was held in his, death stole imperceptibly upon her, and she passed out of life as quietly and peacefully as a child falls asleep on its mother's breast.