Part 35 (1/2)
He took out at the same time the jewel-casket from under his tunic and put it down, and then left us with hasty steps.
”Listen to me, Sandip,” my husband called after him.
”I have not the time, Nikhil,” said Sandip as he paused near the door. ”The Mussulmans, I am told, have taken me for an invaluable gem, and are conspiring to loot me and hide me away in their graveyard. But I feel that it is necessary that I should live. I have just twenty-five minutes to catch the North-bound train. So, for the present, I must be gone. We shall have our talk out at the next convenient opportunity. If you take my advice, don't you delay in getting away either. I salute you, Queen Bee, Queen of the bleeding hearts, Queen of desolation!”
Sandip then left almost at a run. I stood stock-still; I had never realized in such a manner before, how trivial, how paltry, this gold and these jewels were. Only a short while ago I was so busy thinking what I should take with me, and how I should pack it. Now I felt that there was no need to take anything at all.
To set out and go forth was the important thing.
My husband left his seat and came up and took me by the hand.
”It is getting late,” he said. ”There is not much time left to complete our preparations for the journey.”
At this point Chandranath Babu suddenly came in. Finding us both together, he fell back for a moment. Then he said, ”Forgive me, my little mother, if I intrude. Nikhil, the Mussulmans are out of hand. They are looting Harish Kundu's treasury. That does not so much matter. But what is intolerable is the violence that is being done to the women of their house.”
”I am off,” said my husband.
”What can you do there?” I pleaded, as I held him by the hand.
”Oh, sir,” I appealed to his master. ”Will you not tell him not to go?”
”My little mother,” he replied, ”there is no time to do anything else.”
”Don't be alarmed, Bimal,” said my husband, as he left us.
When I went to the window I saw my husband galloping away on horseback, with not a weapon in his hands.
In another minute the Bara Rani came running in. ”What have you done, Chotie darling,” she cried. ”How could you let him go?”
”Call the Dewan at once,” she said, turning to a servant.
The Ranis never appeared before the Dewan, but the Bara Rani had no thought that day for appearances.
”Send a mounted man to bring back the Maharaja at once,” she said, as soon as the Dewan came up.
”We have all entreated him to stay, Rani Mother,” said the Dewan, ”but he refused to turn back.”
”Send word to him that the Bara Rani is ill, that she is on her death-bed,” cried my sister-in-law wildly.