The matter had come to the king's ears in the following way.
During Satagira's absence, the police had succeeded in tracking down Angulimala's accomplice, who had, in the course of a severe examination, given the assurance that the robber in question was really Angulimala himself, that the latter did not die under torture at that former time, as the Minister had always asserted, but had escaped; he had also confessed Angulimala's intended attack on the Krishna grove. His majesty was naturally incensed in the last degree, first at Satagira's having allowed the execrable robber to escape, and then at his having cheated the whole of Kosambi and its king with the false head he had set up. He wouldn't listen to any words of defence, or even of excuse. If Satagira didn't within three days render Angulimala incapable of further mischief—as the people so stormily demanded—then all the consequences of the royal displeasure would be visited upon him with the utmost rigour.
After Satagira had related the whole tale, he threw himself weeping upon the seat, tore his hair, and behaved like one distraught.
"Be comforted, my husband," I said. "Follow my counsel, and not in three days, but before this day is over, thou shalt again be in possession of the royal favour; yes, and not only so, but it shall shine upon thee even more brightly than before."
Satagira sat up and looked at me as one might gaze upon some strange natural phenomenon.
"And what, then, is this counsel of thine?"
"Return to the king and persuade him to betake himself to the Sinsapa wood beyond the city gates. There let him seek the Lord Buddha at the ancient temple, and ask counsel from him. The rest will follow of itself."
