Page:Krishnakanta's Will (Chatterjee, Roy).pdf/9

Rh detain me any longer, You want money, I can see. Let me know what sum will satisfy you."

"I don't want money; you know what I want," she said quietly, and evidently fighting against shyness.

"I am sorry I cannot comply with your wish," said Haralal. "If I have forged, I have done it for my own good. You stole; can you say why you did it?"

Rohini was astounded.

"Whatever I am" continued Haralal, "still I am Krishnakanta Roy's son. I cannot take to wife one who stole."

His words cut her like a whip. She rose to her feet abruptly; and pushing back her veil, and flinging an angry and scornful look at him, said, "Who told me to steal? Who put the temptation before me? Who was so silky and smooth in order to deceive a poor woman by taking advantage of her simplicity? Can there be anything more wicked and dishonourable than this? And you plume yourself on being the son of Krishnakanta Roy! Shame on you. Had you been a woman I wouldn't have spared the broom. But a wretch as you are, I allow you to depart in peace."

Haralal was cowed by her sudden and very bold attack. A malicious smile was on his face, and he withdrew without uttering a word.

Brahmananda had no servants in his house because he was a poor man. Whether to have servants is a blessing or no blessing we do not know; but of this we are sure that in a house where there are no servants there are no such things as lying and backbiting and quarrel. There is very often a scene in a family where there are a number of female servants. They can never agree, and whenever they can get an opportunity they fail not to break the peace of the house by quarrelling, and accusing and abusing one another.

Brahmananda had no servants, and therefore there was peace in his house. As for female members he had none except his niece, Rohini. She kept the house scrupulously clean. She cooked food, drew water, scoured the plates and performed every other household work quietly and without a murmur. Their drinking water she fetched in a pot every day from a particular tank, called the Baruni tank, which was at a little distance from their house. This was the best and largest tank in their village. The water of it was good enough for drinking purposes, and it was so clear that one could see to the bottom.

On the day following the one on which she had an altercation with Haralal she was going to the tank to fetch water as usual, and she looked so sad and disappointed. It was the time of spring, and nature wore a smiling look. Everywhere the trees were in blossom, and the air was laden with a sweet perfume. There were the koels whose loud clear calls were heard from time to time. On other days their notes made no impression on her mind, but on this day when she heard them a strange feeling came over her. She thought as if she had lost something; as if something was wanting; as if her life was a blank. She thought of her late husband, and of her lonely state of a widow of her age, and of widow-marriage, which she had heard was not forbidden by the shastras. "Why should I not," she said to herself, "enjoy my spring of life? What great sin have I committed that I should be doomed thus to suffer? There is Gobindalal's wife. How happy she is. She has got such a nice young husband. And here am I, a hapless woman, destined to toil and go without a single comfort in life."

As she was thus musing a thrilling sonorous coo-oo burst forth from among the trees near by, which made her look around with a start. "Hold your tongue, you rascally knave; you awaken painful feelings in me," she said. These words were addressed to the poor bird, which of course meant no offence.

In a little time Rohini reached the tank; but she felt so miserable that she sat down to weep.

The Baruni tank with its double border, one of grass, whose growth was regularly kept in check by the mowers, and the other next, of a garden on its embankment, looked, as it lay, like a mirror with the trees beautifully reflected on its clear waters. The tank, and the garden enclosed with a wall belonged to Krishnakanta Roy. Rohini was weeping, sitting on one of the landing stairs. The sun was near its setting. From among the trees on the embankment somebody was watching her.