CHAPTER LXV.
"The gods be praised!" cried Jeyram Bhopey to Wamun Bhut, late in theday after the attack upon the temple. "He has opened his eyes oncemore. Speak, Vyas Shastree; you are safe amongst friends: the gods bepraised, and Toolja Mata, for this mercy, for we little expected to seeyou live."
"Who are you?" said the Shastree faintly. "I see very dimly, and itappears very dark.--Anunda! Tara!----"
"I, Wamun, speak to you," replied the elder of the two priests, "andthis is Jeyram Bhopey. We carried you away, and you are safe inthe house of Gunnesh Hurry, Putwari of Sindphul.--Look, friends,"he continued, speaking to others without the door of the room,"the Shastree is alive, and hath spoken, and asked for his wife anddaughter."
Vyas Shastree was sensible that the room darkened again, as a number ofmen crowded to the door; but, feeling sick and faint from the exertionof speaking even those few words, thought himself dying, and relapsedagain into insensibility.
Very anxiously did all those friends watch around the wounded man;and it was long before he showed any appearance of rallying strength.Night passed, and they hardly expected he would see the day; but stillhe breathed, and as morning was breaking, a warm moisture took theplace of the chill, clammy, deathlike state in which he had remainedpreviously, and then those attending him hoped that he would live.
He had received a fearful wound. Bareheaded as he was in theperformance of the ceremonies so rudely interrupted, he had not thoughtof protecting himself; but, as the Abyssinians advanced, had caught asword and shield offered him by a man in the crowd, who drew back andfled, and had passed to the front with some others, crying the shoutof the goddess, "Jey Kalee!" "Jey Toolja!" and catching blows on theshield rather than returning them. But when a gigantic negro before himwas pressing upon the front rank of those who defended the entranceto the vestibule, so heavily that it seemed as if they must give way,the old soldier spirit within the Shastree was stirred, and he struckdesperately at the man. Stung by the pain of the wound, the negroinstantly returned the blow with a furious cut, which laid open thecrown of the Shastree's head from back to front. Well for him that theshield had greatly broken the force of it, or he had died instantly;as it was, the Shastree fell stunned, and was trampled upon by theadvancing crowd; and lay there, unconscious, until the early morning.
Then the two friends who had watch him fall, and who, concealed in therecess behind the shrine, had escaped slaughter, came forth and soughtfor him. They found him under a pile of dead, still breathing, bututterly insensible. It was impossible to take him to his own house, forthe gateway and bazar were filled with Abyssinians, and they feared arenewal of slaughter with the dawn; so they lifted the Shastree fromthe ground, obtained a bedstead from one of the closed archway rooms,put him upon it, and, being joined by several of the Bhopey priests,had broken open the postern by which Tara had been taken away, andcarried him at once, unobserved, to Sindphul.
Had Tara remained where she had been first stopped, she must have seenher father borne past her, and would have been saved; but Fazil Khanhad sent her palankeen to the trees by the back of the rivulet, abouta gunshot's distance from the path, out of sight; and though those whocarried the Shastree were challenged by Shere Khan's horsemen, therewas nothing suspicious in the fact of a dead body, for so it seemed,being carried away,--and the little procession had passed unnoticed.
Heera, the barber of Sindphul, was a skilful surgeon, and on hisarrival at the house of the Putwari or accountant of the village,the Shastree's wound was examined. The barber had seldom seen worse,and during the time which had elapsed since he had received it, theShastree had become weak from loss of blood. So Heera shook his head.Still he did his best: the wound was sewn up skilfully, and a composingpoultice of warm leaves and herbs applied to it, while the bruisedbody was fomented. All night had Heera watched anxiously with thefriends about the Shastree, fearing the worst, for he was restless andfeverish; but with the morning came refreshing sleep, and the warmmoist skin for which the barber had so anxiously looked. Then he said,"If the gods please, the Shastree will live. Let him be kept quiet, andthe room darkened."
At first the women of his family were hardly missed. All those whocould escape had fled into the fields and gardens around littleTooljapoor, and many into the deep ravine beyond the town, or toadjacent villages. Sindphul was crowded with them, and no one darereturn till the Mahomedan force had passed.
The Bhoslay of Sindphul had searched again and again through hisvillage and its hamlets for the Shastree's wives and for Tara, but invain. He had sent men to look for them in their own house, but theywere not there. The place showed the signs of violence we already knowof; and the men in charge of it could only hope that Janoo Naeik mightaccount for them.
Janoo had been sought, therefore, and found in the liquor-seller'sshop drinking out his money; and when asked for Anunda and Tara, said,with drunken solemnity, that he had buried them all. The idea hadpossessed him that this was the safest answer for all questioners, andhe held to it the more pertinaciously as his drunkenness increased. Itwas impossible not to fear that the story might be true; for all hadseen Tara in the throng of priests and priestesses, and knew also thatAnunda and Radha had been in the temple.
We left them crouching in a niche, as it were, of the rock, overgrownby long pendant creepers and grass, near the little spring, and therethey passed the night. At early dawn Janoo had come to them with hisson, and told them that their house had been attacked in the night, andwas no safe place for them. It was polluted, moreover, and they couldnot return to it. That Tara and the Shastree had escaped to Sindphul;that he dare not take them past the force which was guarding the townand pass, and that they must go to Afsinga, where all was quiet. Heknew they had friends in a Brahmun's family which resided there, andthither Anunda and Radha suffered themselves to be guided by the boy,while Janoo, after seeing them safe across the hill, returned to hispost.
Weeping bitterly, hardly knowing whether to go on with the lad or toreturn, at all risks, to Tooljapoor, the two women had yielded toJanoo's well-intended but mistaken direction. The path was stony andrough, and their naked feet, unused to such places, were sorely bruisedand cut in descending the rugged track by which, through the mostintricate and gloomy ravines of the hills, they were guided. It washardly four miles, perhaps, and yet, faint and wretched as they were,the sun was high in the heavens ere they reached their destination, andwere kindly received.
They told their story; but what could be done? Who could go toTooljapoor? The Brahmun to whose house they had betaken themselves wasold and feeble, but a student who lived with him, and who had beenabsent since daylight to obtain information, returned about noon.He had no news of the Shastree or of Tara; but he volunteered to goagain to seek them, and did so, returning at night with accounts ofa fruitless search. Janoo, he said, knew nothing of them, and he hadfound him telling the same story, that he had buried Anunda and Radhaout of sight,--and understood--what the faithful but drunken creaturehad perhaps meant to convey to all inquirers--that they were safelyhidden away.
Perhaps Janoo would not have been absent so long had he been sober; butthe excitement and his potations together had been too much for him.When he awoke, having lain down to sleep in the bazar, it was evening,and they were lighting the lamps in the shops. "It is too late now,"thought he, "to go across the hills for the Shastree's wives, and theyare safer where they are;" so he betook himself to the house. His menwere there in charge. The dead negro had been taken out and buried,and some of the blood washed away; but the place was utterly defiled:the sacred fire had gone out, and the whole premises must undergopurification ere they could enter or inhabit it once more. Janooshrugged his shoulders--"They cannot live here," he said; "there is thehut in the garden at Sindphul, and I will take them there and hide themin it."
So in the morning, before it was light, he set out from Tooljapoor, andcrossed the hills, with two of his men leading two stout ponies forthe women, and reached Afsinga before the sun had
risen. He brought notidings of the Shastree; but it was reported generally in the town, hesaid, that he and Tara were at Sindphul; and, in any case, they must gothere and live in the garden till the house could be purified, and fitto be again inhabited. This was scant comfort to Anunda and Radha; butJanoo said that most families in the town were in the same predicament,that he knew the Shastree and Tara were not among the dead, andprobability confirmed the report that they had fled in the confusion,and were safe.
It was hardly four miles to Sindphul by the road at the foot of thehills on the plain; and they set out, after their hospitable hosts hadinsisted upon their taking an early meal. Anunda would fain have goneby Tooljapoor, but Janoo overruled it. There was no one there; theywould only sit down and cry at the house door; and if the Shastreewere at Sindphul, they would be delayed going to him. Nobody had beendisturbed there; and the Bhoslay and the Putwari would advise them forthe best in any case.
All these arguments overruled Anunda, and they set out with theirguide. They met no one, except a few men watching in their fields bythe wayside, who told them all was quiet. Janoo would not even takethem near the pass of Tooljapoor, but, striking across the plain by theGosai's Mutt, and through the great mango grove, they reached Sindphulunobserved.
It is not a large village, and they were well known there. Passing upthe central street, they had greetings from many friends, both men andwomen. At last they saw their own old gardener sitting weeping at thedoor of the Putwari's house; and Janoo, who was leading Anunda's pony,took them thither. They were both sick at heart as they dismounted andentered. The Putwari's wife and his married daughter who lived in thehouse were kind people, and met them in the outer court. "He is alive,"said the dame; "fear not. Heera has dressed the wound, and he hasspoken to my husband, and asked for you. We told him we had sent foryou, and that you were coming, and, behold, the gods have brought you."Then she led Anunda, weeping, into the inner court, and Radha followed.The men sitting about the door of the apartment got up, and, feelingthey had no more to do, went out, all but the old Putwari.
"Vyas Shastree," he said, as the women approached the door, "becomforted; they are safe, and have come to you. Be gentle with him,"he added to Anunda; "he is very weak, and Heera says if he is madeanxious, or disturbed, fever may come on; therefore, be careful."
It was well meant to give them caution, but at such moments, naturewill have its course. The women had existed--since the attack on thetemple, and since they had fled with Janoo--in a state of intense fearand misery which cannot be described; and yet one mercy had accompaniedthis dread, that they had not fully known what had happened in thetemple, and so hope had sustained them. Now, however, there was nodoubt; and in a paroxysm of mingled fear and thankfulness, they castthemselves beside the low bed, embracing their husband's feet, andweeping passionately. The Shastree was too weak to speak or move; hecould only lift up his hand gently, as if to bless them and welcomethem, while a faint but grateful smile spread itself over his pallidfeatures.
For a little time, and as they sat silently beside him ministeringto their wants--for Anunda was an unrivalled nurse, and had at onceproceeded to arrange many things about him, as he liked--strange tosay, they did not miss Tara; but Anunda's mind suddenly misgave her.Her husband, whom her arrival had aroused, had again fallen into adoze, and she went outside to ask for her. The whole court had beenleft to them, and the door of the outer one was closed. "Tara," shecalled gently, several times, but there was no reply. She might beasleep, she thought, in one of the rooms which opened into it, and shesearched in each in succession. There was no one. Radha joined her."Where is Tara?" she said. "She should have been with him." True, sheshould have been with her father, but she was not.
The women turned sick at heart and sat down. A nameless terror seizedthem, so absorbing, that they could say nothing, but that she was not.Anunda dare not ask. Of the two, Radha was most self-possessed. Lookingthrough the door, she saw the old Putwari's wife sitting outside it,and as if watching the place. She called her in, and the dame saw at aglance what was needed. O the misery of that mother's face! who, aftertrying to articulate "Tara," which her lips formed, as though she spokethe word, fell forward clasping the knees and feet of her old friend,and groaning in her despair.
"The gods have given thee one precious object, sister, and taken theother," she said. "Be thankful for what is spared thee."
Then Anunda thought Tara was dead, and so did Radha; but the womanresumed--
"And yet, why should I say so, Anunda? We know not; she has not beenheard of. Let us wait. Hundreds of our friends fled from the templeand from the town. Many we sheltered here all yesterday till the forcepassed by; then they returned home. So Tara may be at some villagenear, and we have men watching at your house and at the temple. TheBhopeys will send intelligence if they get any."
"She is not in the garden?" asked Radha.
"No; we searched there long ago, and in all the gardens. No, she is nothere, and you must wait. She was favoured of the Mother, sister, andwill not be deserted. At least we know she was not killed."
Anunda was comforted for the moment by this, and the women went andresumed their watch by their husband. It was a relief, perhaps, not tospeak--a relief, too, to find, in watching him and ministering to hiswants, a diversion from the other care. Sooner or later Tara might comein. Janoo had at once gone in search of her; the Bhopeys had despatchedhorsemen to every village around, and there would surely be news of herbefore nightfall.
But none came that night, nor the next day. The Shastree was not yetaware of Tara's absence; fever had begun--the fever of the wound--andhe was unconscious of most things. Sometimes he recognized Anunda, andsometimes called Radha, Tara. It was a blessed thing then that he knewno more. Neither of the women relaxed for a moment in their work, andsat there by the bed, without sleep and without rest, looking for newsof Tara; but none came. Messenger after messenger arrived, but with notidings of her.
Late next day Janoo returned. He must see Anunda, he said; he had newsof importance about Tara, and, so far as he knew, she was not dead.
Anunda went to the man outside; he might not enter because of hisimpure caste.
Janoo was a man of few words and scant ceremony, and he blurted out,"Moro Trimmul and Gunga took her away, lady. I was drinking lastnight with some of our people, who are strangers, and came from adistance, and who were dividing booty: and they said they had carriedoff a beautiful Moorlee as the disturbance broke out, and put herin a palankeen, and they were paid by Moro Trimmul, the reciter.They treated me and some of my people to liquor, and told us of thisas a good piece of business. And I have not stolen them, lady; butthe jewels you gave me are gone; they were given to Pahar Singh'shunchback, who came and asked for them in the Kucheri in my name: butPahar Singh will give them up; or if not, I will burn a corn-stack ofhis every night till he does."
All this was told rapidly and confusedly. The detail was hardlyintelligible; but one great fact came out beyond all others, and if itwere true, better Tara were dead--O, far better!
"Wait," said Anunda, "and I will come to thee again;" and she went inand whispered it all to Radha. She saw the girl's face flush and herbosom heave rapidly. "Gunga must have helped him," she said, "else hehad not dared it, and I will see to it myself." So they both went outto the Ramoosee, and Radha at once declared she would go with him tothe town above, and make inquiries.
She was shrewd and active. Accompanied by Janoo and two of theBhoslay's retainers, she soon found the man from whom Janoo had heardof Tara, and listened to his story. They had known nothing of MoroTrimmul's purpose, he said, till that night of the recitation, or howthe girl they took was to be decoyed away, or who she was; but as thedisturbance began, she was brought out by him in his arms, and thenthey took her. Yes, he knew what had become of her. Moro Trimmul hadbeen put in irons by the Mahomedan chief, and Tara had been carried offto Sholapoor. He and his companions had watched the palankeen from therocks in the ravine where they had hidden
themselves, because, if ithad been left unguarded, they would have gone to it.
It was clear enough now, therefore, that Tara was gone, not dead. Thatwould have been grief--bitter grief; but here was more misery thandeath would have caused. Who had taken their Tara? for what fate wasshe reserved? They could only think of her beauty as destined for someMahomedan harem--reserved for a fate worse than death.
It was piteous to see the mother and the sister-wife prostrated underthis misery and the state of their husband; and it was with difficultythat Radha was restrained from going at once to Sholapoor after thecamp, and endeavouring to trace and reclaim Tara. If she had only doneso--if this energetic girl, used to rough ways and rapid journeys, hadbeen allowed to follow out her own plans, what misery might not havebeen saved to all! Hard she pleaded, that she could not be denied toher brother. She would force from him an account of Tara, and wouldbring her back.
But Anunda hesitated; and the Shastree, to whom all was told, weak ashe was in body, was more than usually vacillating. The Mahomedan camp,full of licentiousness, was no place for a Brahmun girl. "The Shastreemust be attended," Anunda said; and, in Tara's absence, he seemed tocling the more fondly to his young wife, and to miss her ministrationsif even she was temporarily absent. Finally, the matter was left inthe hands of their friends, the Bhoslay and the old Putwari, and theydecided that Radha must not go; but a messenger should be sent, who,assisted by friends and Brahmuns at Sholapoor, would do all that wasneedful or possible.
In truth, all these friends thought that seeking for Tara at all wasinjudicious. They could not believe, considering her beauty and publicvocation as a priestess, that she could have escaped observation, andthey had come to the conclusion that her preservation from dishonourwas impossible. Better she were dead; or, if alive, reunion washenceforth impossible, for the hard rules of religious faith mustexclude her from all assistance and sympathy. These were home truthswhich, sooner or later, Vyas Shastree himself would acknowledge; andRadha's plan was overruled.
It was some days before an answer came. Communications were necessarilyslow when there were only foot messengers to carry them. The Shastree'sfever had passed away, and his wound was progressing favourably.Mentally and bodily, he had passed a fearful crisis; but natures likehis bow to these calamities rather than break, and there was hope atleast in the messenger who had gone, to which they all clung.
Little by little they heard enough to sustain this hope. The Bhoslay'scorrespondent, a banker in the town of Sholapoor, had spared no painsfor the recovery of Vyas Shastree's child; but beyond the fact thatin the family of Afzool Khan there was a new Hindu slave, of greatbeauty, who was carefully secluded in the zenana, he could ascertainnothing; and the inquiries, he wrote, must be continued in camp, forthe force had marched, and was now some stages distant, going towardsWye.
Again, after an interval of weary expectation, and the daily enduranceof that heavy weight of uncertainty which is so often worse than thebitterest agony of reality, there came fresh news which they could notdoubt. A poor Brahmun of Sholapoor, incited by the offer of reward heldout by the Shastree's friends, had proceeded to camp, and returnedfrom it direct. They never forgot that evening of his arrival. TheShastree had, meanwhile, been removed to his own house, as soon as ithad undergone purification, and lay, weak as yet, but convalescent, inthe verandah of the inner court, living, as he said, in sight of theobjects most loved by his lost child; and it was almost an occupationto watch dreamily Tara's bright flowers glowing in the sunlight. Hewas lying there, watching them, as the evening sun declined, and thecolour of its light was growing richer as the shadows of the buildingslengthened, and Anunda had just said he must retire to his room; but hewas pleading to be allowed to stay, when the man was announced without.
Weary and footsore, Radha and a servant poured water over his feet, andled him in. "There was no bad news," he said; "none, Tara was well."Then they all listened, with grateful hearts and tears of joy, to theman's tale of having discovered her, though he could not get speechof her or send a message to her; but in Afzool Khan's family therewas a Brahmun girl called Tara, who was an honoured guest; her peoplehad been killed, they said, and they were taking her to Wye, to herrelatives. He had watched several days about the Khan's tents in hopeof seeing her, but in vain; for the servants and soldiers, thinkinghim a spy, had beaten him and driven him off. Day by day the distanceback to Tooljapoor grew greater, so he had returned. But there was nodoubt; the man described what he had heard distinctly, and they couldnow trace Tara from the temple to where she then was. She must believethey were all dead, and was going to their relatives at Wye: and shewas at least safe from Moro Trimmul, whom the messenger reported to bein close confinement.
Now, for once, there was no indecision or vacillation in the Shastree'smind. He could bear easy travelling in a litter; and Radha should haveit by-and-by, when he grew stronger. He would not delay, and theycould yet overtake the army at Wye, or soon afterwards. Very little ofthe household property had been lost, after all; and Anunda's storeof money was at last to prove useful. That night, as with thankfulhearts they spoke of their lost child, they arranged plans for settingout to reclaim her; and their friends, who crowded about them withcongratulations next day, soon completed the necessary arrangements.The third day was a lucky one, according to the planets; and they moveddown the pass to Sindphul, followed by many friends, and the goodwishes and prayers of all who had known Tara from childhood.
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