On seeing Bâlachandrika, he started up, saying, "Oh, how welcome is
the sight of you! I am sure you must be the bearer of good news. Sit
down here and tell me about my darling."

She answered: "The princess is suffering like yourself, longing to see
you; and has now sent me with this letter."

Eagerly opening it, he read--

"Beloved--Having seen your beauty, delicate as a flower, faultless,
unrivalled in the world, my heart is full of longing. Do you likewise
make your heart soft."

Having read this, he said: "Your coming here is refreshing to me as
water to a withered plant; you are the wife of my very dear friend,
Pushpodbhava, and I know how attached you are to my darling, therefore
I can speak freely to you. Tell her that when she left the grove that
day she carried off my heart with her, and that I long to see her even
more than she longs for me; tell her only not to despond; the entrance
to her apartments is indeed difficult, but I will contrive to see her
by some means or other. Come back soon, and, having thought over the
matter, I will tell you what is to be done." With this message,
Bâlachandrika went to rejoice her friend; and the prince, though much
comforted, could not remain quiet, but walked to the park, to have the
pleasure of seeing at least the place where he had first met his
charmer. There he stayed a long time together with his friend, looking
at her footsteps in the sand, the withered flowers which she had
gathered and thrown down, the place where she had sat, and the shrubs
from which he had watched her, and listening to the murmur of the wind