Krishnakanta's Will (Chatterjee, Roy)/Part 1/Chapter 10
CHAPTER X.
The grey dawn of morning was breaking over the world. A gentle breeze was blowing, and if the cuckoos were not yet heard there were other birds that had already begun their songs. At this delightful time of morning Gobindalal went and stood at the open window of his bedroom. Here he was quickly joined by a very pretty looking girl.
"What makes you come here?" said Gobindalal.
"And you—what are you here for?" said the girl.
The reader need not be told that the girl is Gobindalal's wife.
"I am here to enjoy the morning breeze a while," said her husband.
"And why should I not enjoy it too? Why should you have this pleasure all to yourself, you selfish man?"
Gobindalal's wife's name was Bhramar. The term Bhramar means black bee. Her husband jokingly used to remark that she was given that name on account of the dark look of her skin. But although her complexion was dark, she was well-formed, and the cast of her face was beautiful. She was a very good and affectionate wife, and her husband loved her dearly.
"My dear, you always look charming in your nose-ring," said her husband. "I like this sort of trinket best because you look so lovely in it."
"You naughty man," said she, giving him a gentle pull by the nose, "I know you do not mean what you say."
"Oh, I do, my love," said he, as he held up her face in both hands and imprinted a kiss on her lips.
Presently an uproar was heard. "What's this noise about?" said Gobindalal.
"It is the servants, the ever noisy and and quarrelsome set," said Bhramar.
The servants were up very early as usual; and a little while ago the shup-shup of the brooms, and the splashing of water and the tinkling of the plates showed that they were busy in sweeping and cleaning and washing and scouring. But suddenly these noises ceased, and a great clamour followed.
"I will go and see what is the matter," said Bhramar. And she left her husband and ran downstairs.
The women-servants were a very troublesome set in the house, and could hardly be kept under control even by Bhramar's mother-in-law who was the mistress of the house.
"What's all this noise about? What's the matter," cried Bhramar as soon as she appeared before them. They paid no heed to her words. As soon as they saw her they burst into loud exclamations of horror and astonishment. "I am sure I have never heard such a thing in my life," said one. Another cried, "How daring! I wish I could teach her a good lesson with my broom!" A third wished she could cut off her nose and ears. A fourth said she ought to hang for it. A fifth, however, observed that she should say nothing, considering that she knew nothing for certain. No sooner did the last speaker utter these words than the rest turned sharply upon her and taunted her, saying that she was too good and honest a woman to make herself a busybody in things that did not concern her. They made other cutting remarks, and were so clamorous in condemning her as a hypocrite that at last Bhramar cried, "Hold your tongues, you noisy rabble. I wish I could have you taught a good lesson for creating this disturbance in the house. Why don't you hang yourselves and let us be rid of you?"
At these words they set up a great howl, complaining that it was very hard that because they were servants they must put up with hard words and insult for noting. They said they were sure they did not know what their fault was except that they had no bread at home; and that they would certainly not submit to be insulted in order to earn it. One of them, an elderly woman, burst into loud sobs, saying that had she not lost a son at her lying-in some thirty years ago, she would never have to work for her bread, for he would have been the stay and support of her old age. Bhramar, who was a jovial young lady, could not restrain her laughter at her words. "You fools," she cried, "why don't you say what has happened? Who is the person you would have taught a good lesson?"
When she had said that, there was a clamour again. They expressed their wonder at her not having heard the startling news that a robbery had been committed in the house, and gave her a highly coloured account of what they had heard. What Bhramar, however, could judge to be the fact was that Rohini had stolen into Krishnakanta's bedroom for some hidden purpose, been found out and kept in detention. She returned to her husband and told him what was the matter.
"What do you think of her, dear?" said Gobindalal. "Do you believe Rohini went into his room to steal?"
"I don't believe it," said Bhramar.
"Why? What's your reason for your not wishing to believe it?"
"What do you think of her?"
"I would like to hear from you first," said Gobindalal.
"Well, because I never heard anything against her, and I have always held a good opinion of her ever since I came to know her."
"You don't mean that," said Gobindalal with a smile. "Shall I say why you wish to take her side?"
"Why?" asked Bhramar.
"Because she likes you very much, and can never bear to hear any remark made about your complexion."
"You naughty man, you are always for finding fault with my complexion. But I am as God made me, and I don't care what you or other people think of the look of my skin."
"I will go and see what I can do," said Gobindalal.
"Oh, poor girl! You must plead for her. You must try and see her set free."
"You have such a good and feeling heart, my dear," said Gobindalal, "and I am so happy with you." With this he kissed her and left the room.
(To be continued.)
Translated by D. C. Roy.