Then the shining figure, kissing Kunda's face, said to her: "Child,
thou hast suffered much, and I know thou hast yet more to suffer; thou
so young, thy tender frame cannot endure such sorrow. Therefore abide
not here; leave the earth and come with me."

Kunda seemed to reply: "Whither shall I go?"

Then the mother, with uplifted finger indicating the shining
constellations, answered, "There!"

Kunda seemed, in her dream, to gaze into the timeless, shoreless ocean
of stars, and to say, "I have no strength; I cannot go so far."

Hearing this, the mother's kind and cheerful but somewhat grave face
saddened, her brows knitted a little, as she said in grave, sweet
tones:

"Child, follow thy own will, but it would be well for thee to go with
me. The day will come when thou wilt gaze upon the stars, and long
bitterly to go thither. I will once more appear to thee; when, bowed
to the dust with affliction, thou rememberest me, and weepest to come
to me, I will return. Then do thou come. But now do thou, looking on
the horizon, follow the design of my finger. I will show thee two
human figures. These two beings are in this world the arbiters of thy
destiny. If possible, when thou meetest them turn away as from
venomous snakes. In their paths walk thou not."

Then the shining figure pointed to the opposite sky. Kunda, following
the indication, saw traced on the blue vault the figure of a man more
beautiful than a god. Beholding his high, capacious forehead, his