On the breaking up of the Council our heroine joined a large party of
Babis led by her great friend Kuddus. On their arrival in Nur,
however, they separated, she herself staying in that district. There
she met Subh-i-Ezel, who is said to have rendered her many
services. But before long the people of Mazandaran surrendered the
gifted servant of truth to the Government.

We next meet with her in confinement at Tihran. There she was treated
at first with the utmost gentleness, her personal charm being felt
alike by her host, Mahmud the Kalantar, and by the most frigid of
Persian sovereigns. The former tried hard to save her. Doubtless by
using Ketman (i.e. by pretending to be a good Muslim) she might
have escaped. But her view of truth was too austere for this.

So the days--the well-filled days--wore on. Her success with
inquirers was marvellous; wedding-feasts were not half so bright as
her religious soirees. But she herself had a bridegroom, and longed
to see him. It was the attempt by a Babi on the Shah's life on
August 15, 1852, which brought her nearer to the desire of her
heart. One of the servants of the house has described her last evening
on earth. I quote a paragraph from the account.

'While she was in prison, the marriage of the Kalantar's son took
place. As was natural, all the women-folk of the great personages were
invited. But although large sums had been expended on the
entertainments usual at such a time, all the ladies called loudly for
Kurratu'l 'Ayn. She came accordingly, and hardly had she begun to
speak when the musicians and dancing-girls were dismissed, and,
despite the counter attractions of sweet delicacies, the guests had no
eyes and ears save for Kurratu'l 'Ayn.