V
WHILE Indra was relating his story I saw Didi shudder two or three times. She looked at him in silence for a while and then said, with a voice full of affectionate remonstrance, 'Dear, you mustn't do such a thing again. You ought not to play with these dangerous creatures: it was lucky that he only bit the lid in your hand; otherwise just imagine what a terrible thing might have happened.'
'I'm not so big a fool as that, Didi,' said Indra laughing, as he hastened to show a piece of dry root tied to a string which was wound round his waist. 'Haven't I provided against danger? If I hadn't had this, do you think he would have spared me? But you don't know what trouble I had to get this from Shahji. No snake dares to bite you, you know, when you've got this about you; and even if it had bitten me, what then? I would have wakened Shahji and put his poison-stone on the bite. How long do you think, Didi, would that stone take to suck out all the poison? Half an hour, a whole hour, or less?'
Didi sat silent as before. 'You must give me one of those stones to-day, Didi,' continued Indra, warming up. 'You've got two or three, and I have been asking you for one such a long time.' He did not wait for a reply, but immediately added in an aggrieved tone, 'I do everything that you tell me to do; and you always put me off to to-morrow or the day after to-morrow. If you don't want to give it, why do you make promises? I won't come here again—and I don't want to have anything to do with you.'
Though Indra did not notice it, I could distinctly see that Didi's face became dark with a great pain and shame. But the next instant she managed to bring the semblance of a smile to her thin, ascetic lips, as she said, 'So that's why you come to your Didi's house, Indra—to learn spells and incantations and to get the poison-stone: is that it?'
'Yes, that's just it,' said Indra without the least hesitation. He sent a sidelong glance towards the sleeping Shahji, and added, 'But he is always putting me off: "This is not an auspicious day", he says, "That is not an auspicious day", "The other day is not auspicious", and so on. It's ages since he taught me the mantra[1] for "passing the hand";[2] ever since then he has positively refused to teach me anything more. But I have seen to-day, Didi, that you too know everything, and I am not going to humour him any more; I'll get everything I want from you.' He looked at me and, in a voice hushed with awe and reverence, said, 'Shahji may be a ganja-smoker, Srikanta, but he is such a magician that he can bring a three days' corpse back to life. Can you, too, restore a dead man to life, Didi?'
Didi burst out into a merry laugh, clear and infinitely sweet: seldom have I heard anything so beautiful. But, like the flash of lightning in a cloudy sky, it died out as suddenly as it came.
Indra seemed to regard Didi's laughter as an encouragement and he said smilingly, 'I know that you know everything. Teach me every one of the things you have learnt, and I will remain your slave for the rest of my life. How many dead bodies have you brought to life, Didi?'
'But I tell you I don't know how to bring the dead back to life, Indranath.'
'Hasn't Shahji taught you that mantra, Didi? But you must have learnt from him how to "pass the cowrie-shells"?'
'Oh, no,' said Didi; 'I don't even know what that is.'
Indra evidently did not believe it. 'Of course you don't,' he said sarcastically. 'Why not tell me plainly that you won't teach me?' Then, turning towards me, he asked 'Have you ever seen cowrie-shells being passed, Srikanta? Two shells, under the spell of mantras, will fly and find where the snake is; and then they will stick to his hood with the grip of a vice. Even if the snake were the distance of a day's journey away, they would drag him all the way to your feet. Such is the power of spells. But, Didi, you must know the art of "binding the house and binding the body" and "magnetizing dust" and so forth? If you don't, how could you catch that snake as you did?' and he turned a questioning face towards Didi.
Didi sat in silence for some time, looking down, lost in thought. When she raised her face she said slowly, 'Indra, your Didi does not possess the least bit of all that knowledge. If you are willing to believe why I don't, I will tell you everything to-day and get rid of the burden of my secret. Will you believe all that I will tell you?' Her last words were heavy with pent-up emotion.
I had scarcely spoken a word all this time, but now I did not hesitate to say with emphasis, 'I will believe everything you say, Didi. Yes, everything. I won't disbelieve a single word.'
She looked at me with a smile and said, 'Of course you will, my dear: aren't you sons of gentlemen? Only low people are suspicious of what strangers say.' She looked at me again and smiled rather sadly.
The dim gloom of the evening had given place to moonlight, and through the chinks among the thick leaves and branches of trees the rays of a pale moon filtered down into the thick darkness below. After a few moments' silence Didi suddenly said, 'Indranath, I had thought of telling you my whole story to-day, but I realize that the time has not yet come. Only believe me when I say that everything about us is a fraud. Do not follow Shahji about, deluded by a vain hope. We know nothing of mantras, nor can we revive the dead, nor catch snakes by passing the cowrie-shell. VVe do not know whether others can, but we ourselves have no such power.'
Though I could not exactly tell why, I believed every word she said, in spite of my short acquaintance with her. But Indra remained incredulous. 'Well,' he said angrily, 'if you don't know any better than any others, how could you catch the snake?'
'That was merely a trick of the hand. Indra,' she said: 'there was no mantra in it. I know nothing of snake-charming.'
'If you don't,' he asked bluntly, 'why did you deceive me, both of you, and trick me of so much money?'
Didi could not give any reply at once. She seemed to me to be making an effort to collect herself. 'Cheats and humbugs!' cried Indra harshly. 'All right, I'll teach you a lesson, I will.'
A kerosene lamp was burning quite near: by its light I could see Didi's face became white in an instant with a death-like pallor. 'We are only snake-charmers, dear,' she said, timid and hesitant; 'deceit is our daily trade—'
'I will teach you your daily trade. Come, Srikanta, we shouldn't have touched the shadow of these rascally swindlers. Knaves and humbugs!' Indra seized my hand with sudden force and started up dragging me along with him. I cannot blame Indra, for he had built up many hopes and many ambitious castles in the air, which he now suddenly found dashed to the ground in the twinkling of an eye. But when I looked at Didi, I could not turn my eyes away. Freeing myself with an effort from Indra's grip, I went and placed my five rupees before her, saying, 'I brought this for you: won't you take it?'
Indra pounced upon the rupees, saying 'Won't she! You don't know, Srikanta, how much money these people have cheated me of by their mummery and their fibs. If they die of want and starvation, that's just what I should like to see them do.'
'No, Indra, give me the money,' I said, pressing his hands: 'I brought it expressly for Didi—'
'Didi be damned,' he cried and dragged me to the hedge.
All this row woke up Shahji. 'What's that? What's that?" he asked, sitting up.
'Rogue and rascal,' cried Indra, leaving hold of me and stepping up to Shahji. 'I'll whip the hide off your back, you swine. "What's that?" indeed! As if he didn't know anything. . . He goes about saying that he can revive corpses by mantras. By Jove, I"ll revive you as you deserve, next time I see you', and he made such a savage gesture that even Shahji was visibly startled.
His brain had evidently not got clear of the ganja fumes; coming on top of that, this strange and unexpected situation was too much for it to grapple with, and he sat bemused and at his wit's end, with an idiotic stare.
When Indra had dragged me outside the enclosure we heard from behind us Shahji shouting in clear Bengali, 'Tell me, Indranath, what is all this?' It was the first time that I had heard him speak Bengali.
Indra turned back, and said, 'You pretend you don't know anything. Will you tell me why you have tricked me so long and taken so much money for nothing?'
'Who says for nothing?' he asked.
Indra pointed at Didi who was sitting silent with bent head, and said, 'She has told us that you know nothing of the black art. What you do know is to fool other people and cheat them of their money. That appears to be your trade, swindling liars!'
Shahji's eyes blazed with fury. I had not known till then what a terrible man he was, but the sight of those blazing eyes filled me with terror. He stood up, tying up his dishevelled hair, and approaching Didi asked, 'Have you really told them that?'
Didi sat silent, her head bent down as before. Indra nudged me, saying, 'Let's go home: it's getting late.' True, it was getting late, but I could not move a single step. Yet Indra went on, pulling me along. After we had gone a few steps we heard the voice of Shahji again, 'Why did you tell them?'
I did not hear Didi's reply, but by the time we had gone a little further, a sudden, piercing scream rent the darkness. In the twinkling of an eye Indra followed the sound and disappeared out of sight. But fate had willed differently for me. I stumbled as I turned and fell headlong into a big bush of shickul plant which stood in my path. Its thorns gashed and tore me all over, and some minutes passed before I could extricate myself from them, for by the time I released one part of my dress, another part had got entangled, and when that had been freed, a third part was caught up in the thorns. When at last I reached the front yard of the cottage I saw Didi lying in a faint at one end of it, and at the other end a battle royal proceeding between the master and the disciple. Beside them was lying a sharp, pointed lance. Shahji was a very powerful man. But he could not have known that Indra was far more powerful than he; if he had, he would not have wilfully run so grave a risk. In a few moments Indra had thrown him on his back and sat on his chest, squeezing his neck so hard that, had I not intervened, the life of Shahji the snake-charmer would soon have been finished.
After great efforts I separated the two, and then the sight of Indra's condition made me burst into tears of dismay. In the deepening dusk I had not at first noticed that all his clothes were terribly blood-stained. 'He hit me with that lance with which he kills snakes,' Indra gasped, 'confounded ruffian that he is. See!' and pulling up his sleeves he showed me a wound in his arm, two or three inches wide, bleeding profusely.
'Don't cry,' he said to me. 'Tie this part as hard as you can.' And then to Shahji, 'Take care, you! Sit there just as you are! If you get up I'll put my foot on your neck and tear out your tongue, you dastardly swine! Now, Srikanta, tie up this part, quick!' and he tore up a part of the dhoti he was wearing. I began dressing the wound with trembling hands, while Shahji looked on in silence with the glare of a venomous snake about to meet its death.
'No, I can't trust you,' said Indra. 'You might commit murder: I'll tie up your hands.' And with Shahji's ochre-coloured turban-cloth he tied his hands together. Shahji did not protest, resist, or speak a word.
Indra put aside the stick with which Shahji had knocked Didi senseless and said, 'What an ungrateful wretch this villain is! How much of Father's money have I not stolen for him and how much more would I not have stolen, had not Didi forbidden me. Yet how readily he flung that lance at me to-day! Srikanta, keep your eye on him: see that he doesn't get up. I'll dash some water on Didi's face.'
After he had thrown some water on her face he said, as he fanned her, 'From the day she told me, "We would have taken it had it been your money, but it would he a great sin to take it from you", no one knows how much beating she has had to bear at his hands. And yet she has been feeding him and supplying him with money for his ganja by collecting fuel, and making cow-dung cakes and selling them; and still he is never satisfied. I shall not be happy until I make him over to the police. If I don't he will kill her. He might easily commit murder.'
Shahji shivered at these words, raised his face for an instant, and then looked down again. I can still remember the deep shadow of fear that I saw cross his face.
When Didi opened her eyes and sat up, it was about midnight. She took almost an hour to come fully to herself. Then, when I had told her the whole story of the evening, she went up slowly to Shahji, untied his hands, and said, 'Now go; go to bed.'
After he had gone, she called Indra to her and placing his right hand on her head, said, 'Swear, Indra, my brother, by my head, that never again will you set foot in this house. Whatever may happen to us, do not have anything to do with us in future.'
Indra remained speechless with surprise for a few moments. Then he suddenly blazed out indignantly, 'Indeed, and it's nothing to you that he attempted to murder me? You turn sullen and angry because I kept him tied up. That's all the thanks that I get from you! Ungrateful wretches, both of you! Come, Srikanta, we won't stay any more.'
Didi sat silent, without protesting against a single charge of his. Why she did not, I came to understand later, though I could not understand it then. I put down the five rupees near a post, unseen and in silence, and followed Indra. As he went out of the court-yard, Indra shouted, 'What decency or religion could you expect of a Hindu woman who has left her home to live with a Musalman? You can go to the devil; I won't have anything more to do with you. I have washed my hands of your affairs once for all, rascally cheats that you are!' and he hurried swiftly across the stretch of jungle.
When we had taken our seats in the canoe, Indra began to row in silence, and at times he wiped his eyes with his hands. I could see that he was crying, and asked no questions.
We returned past the cremation-ground and were following the way we had gone on the first day, but no fear entered my mind this time. I was so bewildered and distracted that the thought of how I should enter our house at that hour of the night or what fate awaited me later never occurred to me.
When we arrived at the landing-ghat the night was almost over. As I got down from the canoe, Indra said, 'Go home, Srikanta; you are unlucky. Whenever I have brought you with me some beastly trouble or other has arisen. I won't ever call you to help me in anything again: and don't you ever come near me again. Go!' He pushed the canoe back into the deep water and disappeared out of sight. Surprised and pained, I stood in silence on the deserted bank of the river.