Page:Tales of Bengal (Sita and Santa Chattopadhyay).djvu/40

Tales of Bengal I complained. With smiles and prattlings I tried to put the old man at his ease, as if I had seen or understood nothing. Many a time have I seen him questioned by his neighbours as to who I was. It was difficult for him to answer the question before me, but I used to break in with, "I am his adopted grandchild," and so relieve him.

The attenuated figure of the old man became more so, as the years advanced. One day I heard that we were going away to his country-house. It was in Madhabpur. He wanted to close his eyes in the place where he first opened them.

We arrived in that red brick house, together with the mango-blossoms which heralded the approach of spring in the huge garden which surrounded the house. The house stood silent and deserted. I have heard that once it held many persons, and festivities were of daily occurrence. But the huge reception rooms were empty now. Only the daily worship at the temple of Shiva still went on.

My grandfather had wealth once and he also possessed numerous children and grandchildren. But all had followed the departing footsteps of the goddess of plenty. At last he had only one grandson left. But in his terrible bereavement he turned away from this boy and left his native home. He did not want any more ties, which are formed only to be broken.

And as death approached him, he returned again to his deserted home. "Here," he said, "have I given up all whom I had cherished in life, in death I will not be parted from them. Let my ashes, too, mingle with theirs."

Here it was that I first met you. You seemed to me as beautiful as a single streak of light in this kingdom of dark desolation. Many years have passed since. I wonder if you still remember that day.

I think that the river must have flowed close to your house at that time when these stairs were made leading Rh