Page:Dumas - Tales of Strange adventure (Methuen, 1907).djvu/114

102 pile. Once outside the city, she encountered on the road an English officer and a dozen men, stationed there by orders of the Governor of Calicut.

"The officer approached her and asked her in Hindostani, which I could perfectly well understand:

"'Do you die of your own free will?'

"'Yes,' she replied, 'of my own free will entirely.'

"'In case your family should be constraining you, I am here to rescue you; appeal to my help, and in the name of my Government I will take you away with me.'

"'No one is constraining me; I am to be burned with my own full and free consent; so let me pass.'

"As I have said, I was near enough to the speakers to hear the dialogue, and I must confess I was struck with admiration at the sight of such bold determination. At the same time, it is true, the widow was speaking to a Christian, before whom she was not sorry to make a parade of her religion, while all those devilish Brahmins were confusing her by singing their deafening litanies in her ears.

"So she went on her way intrepidly towards the pile; when she came to the edge of the trench, which was already partly filled with flame, the Brahmins crowded round and made her drink a potion which seemed to give her added strength. My Nair said that the one who handed her the liquor and who was the most energetic in urging her to the sacrifice was her uncle.

"Be this as it may, the Brahmins now drew back, and the poor woman, after bidding farewell to her family and distributing her jewellery amongst her female friends, retired four steps and then amidst the cries and encouragements of the priests, to the sound of deafening and discordant music, ran forward and sprang into the burning volcano.

"But no sooner was she there than she found the atmosphere a trifle warm apparently, and in spite of the opium she had drunk, in spite of the chanting priests and drumming musicians, she uttered scream after scream and dashed out of the fire quicker than she had gone into it. I could not but admire the foresight displayed by my worthy Inquisitors at Goa, who fix a stake in the middle of the pile, and to this stake fasten an iron ring to keep the victim from bolting.

"In the present case all present, I am bound to say, at sight of the woman failing so egregiously in her duties as a widow, uttered loud cries of indignation and rushed to catch the fugitive and put her back into the flames. In particular, just in front of me stood a charming little Calicut girl of ten or twelve, who was furious with anger, and declared that when her time came to be burned she would never behave so; she kept shouting at the top of her voice:

"'Burn the renegade! burn her, burn her, burn her!'—and all repeated the cry except myself, the English officer and his men. These latter made every effort to reach the victim, but, as you may suppose, they were easily kept back by the angry crowd. The renegade, as my pretty little neighbour called her, was seized, lifted from her feet, carried back to the trench, and thrown bodily into the heart of the flames. Then they threw on top of her faggots, fire-brands, logs, dried grass, and whatever else they could lay hands on. Even then she managed to push aside the blazing mass, and once more scrambled out of the pit. Then by sheer force of despair she rushed, a pillar of flame, through the terrified and shrinking spectators, and plunged into a brook that ran some fifty yards away from the pile. Such a thing had never been known before, all present declared, shocked and astounded at such a scandal. Above all, my pretty little Calicut friend could not get over her astonishment that any woman could so far forget her duties towards her husband; she could only repeat again and again, 'How differently I should behave, how very differently!'

"Then she ran with the rest of the crowd towards the brook where the half-burned renegade had fled for refuge. I followed her, for I already felt no little admiration for her beauty.

"When we came to the banks of the stream, the poor creature was crying—

"'Help, Englishmen! Save me, save me!' But the English were hustled back whenever they tried to approach, and could do nothing. Then catching sight of her uncle, the same who had been so anxious to have her burned:

"'Uncle,' she cried, 'save me, have pity on me. I will leave my family, I will live like a pariah and beg my bread.'

"'Well, well, so be it,' her uncle replied in a coaxing voice. 'Let me wrap