The whole night through I remained on the Terrace, the unresisting prey of passions, hitherto unknown to me, but which were now unchained, and which made sport of my heart as the whirlwind does of the leaf.
My Kamanita was still alive! He had heard, in his distant home, of my marriage, for otherwise he would have come long ago. How faithless—or how pitilessly weak, must I appear in his eyes! And for this degradation of mine, Satagira was alone to blame. My hate for him grew more deadly with every passing minute, and deeply did I feel the truth of Angulimala's words, that, if I had been a man, I should have assuredly killed Satagira.
Then the prospect that Angulimala had so unexpectedly opened up to me presented itself—that, if I were free, I could marry my beloved. At the thought my whole being became so wildly excited, that I felt as if the blood must rend my breast and temples. Incapable of holding myself erect, I was not even able to totter to the bench, but sank down upon the marble tiles and my senses left me.
The coolness of the morning dew brought me back to my unhappy existence and its terrible questions.
Was it then true that I wished to band myself with a robber and thousandfold murderer, in order to get the man out of the way who had once led me round the nuptial fire?
But I had not the least knowledge yet of when my husband was to leave. And how was I to ascertain the time of his departure or the exact route he intended to take, if he made a secret of these. "For a beautiful woman, it is never difficult to draw a secret from her husband"—these words of the robber's yet rang in my ears and made plain to me the whole baseness of such a course of action. Never would I be able to make up my mind to worm myself by tenderness into his confidence, in order then to betray him to his arch-enemy. But just because I felt this so clearly, did it also become clear to me that it was really only the treacherous and hypocritical worming out of his secret that I deeply loathed. Had I already been in possession of it—had I known whither to go in order to find a tablet on which it all stood written—I should certainly have furnished Angulimala with the fatal information.
When this became plain to me I trembled with horror as though I were already guilty of Satagira's death. I thanked fate that there was no possibility of getting this information, for even if I had been able to learn at what hour they were to start, yet only Satagira himself and, at the most, perhaps one confidant, would know what roads and paths had been decided upon.
I saw the rising sun gild the towers and cupolas of Kosambi as I had seen this ravishing spectacle so many a time from the Terrace of the Sorrowless—but ah! with what quite other feelings than when I spent the blessed night hours there with thee! Unhappy as never before, weary and miserable, as though I had in this one night aged by decades, I betook myself back to the palace.
In order to reach my room I was obliged to go through a long gallery, opening off which were several chambers with barred windows. As I passed one of these I heard voices. The one—that of my husband—was just then raised—
"Good!—we start to-night—an hour after midnight."
I had stopped involuntarily. So I knew the hour! But the road? A flush of shame suffused my face for having played the eavesdropper. "Fly, fly!" a voice made itself heard within me, "there is yet time!" But I stood as if rooted to the spot.
Satagira, however, said nothing further. He may have heard my footsteps and their stopping at the door, for the latter was suddenly torn open. My husband stood before me.
"I heard thy voice in passing," I said, with quick resolution, "and thought of asking whether I should bring thee some refreshments as thou hast business so early. Then I feared to disturb thee and was about to pass on." Satagira looked at me without suspicion and even with great friendliness.
"I thank thee," he said; "I need no refreshments, but thou dost in no way disturb me. On the contrary, I was about to send for thee and only feared that thou were not yet risen. Thou canst, just at this moment, be of the greatest service to me."
He invited me to enter his room, which I did with supreme astonishment, very curious to know what the service might be which he desired from me,—just at this moment, when a deadly purpose against him filled my whole being.
A man, in whom I recognised the master of Satagira's horse and his most trusted follower, was sitting on a low bench. He rose as I entered and bowed. Satagira invited me to sit down beside himself, signed to the officer to be seated again, and turned to me.
"The matter is this, my dear Vasitthi. I am obliged, as soon as possible, to undertake a journey in order to adjust a village quarrel in the province to the east. Now, for several weeks, robbers have been seen in the wooded region east of Kosambi, and, as a matter of fact, very near to the town. Indeed, a foolish tale has even arisen that their leader is no other than Angulimala, people having the unheard-of effrontery to assert that Angulimala had, on the last occasion, escaped from prison, and that I had, in place of his head, stuck up another very like it over the gate. Of course we can offord to laugh at all such fantastic stories. But, nevertheless, this robber does not seem to stand much behind the famous Angulimala in point of audacity, and, if he really gives himself out for the latter in order, by the use of his renowned name, to gain a large following, his intention assuredly is to perform some particularly brilliant feat. For that reason a certain amount of prudence is, under all circumstances, advisable."
A small table, inlaid with precious stones, stood beside him, and on it a silk handkerchief.
He took the handkerchief up and mopped his forehead, observing, as he did so, that the day was very hot in spite of the early hour. I perceived, of course, that it was fear of Angulimala which caused the perspiration to flow from his every pore. But instead of awaking my pity, the sight only filled me with contempt for him. I saw that he was no hero, and asked myself with astonishment by what lucky accident he had chanced to take Angulimala prisoner—Angulimala, the robber—who seemed to me to be like the terrible Bhima in Mahabharata, at whose side thou thyself, my dear Kamanita, didst fight on the plain of Kurukshetra.
"Now, however," my husband meantime went on, "I cannot well arrive in these villages with a whole army; indeed, I should not like to take more than thirty mounted men with me on this journey. But all the more are prudence and diplomatic stratagem in place. I have just been discussing this with my faithful Panduka, and he has made a good suggestion of which I will also inform thee, in order that thou mayst not be in a state of too great anxiety on my account, during these days."
I murmured something that was intended to signify gratitude for this consideration.
"Panduka will, therefore," he went on, "make all necessary preparations, and with a great deal of ostentation, as though I intended early to-morrow to make an expedition to the east with a fairly large body of troops to capture the robbers. If these, then—which I do not doubt—have their accomplices here in town, who keep them informed of what goes on, they are certain to be deceived by it. In the meantime I shall start with my thirty riders an hour after midnight and, going out of the southern gate, shall take my way in a wide sweep through the hilly land to the east. Yet, even so, I should like to avoid the main roads until I have left Kosambi several miles behind. Now, just in this neighbourhood lies thy father's summer residence, and there thou knowest every road and path from childhood up; thou wilt be able then, I imagine, to help me greatly in this matter."
I was at once ready to do so, and, while I described everything to him in detail, I had a drawing-board brought, and drew upon it an exact map of the neighbourhood of our country house, with crosses at the places which he must specially note. But chiefly did I recommend to him a certain path which led through a ravine. This ravine narrowed gradually till, finally, for a short distance, even two men could not ride through it abreast. On the other hand, however, the path was so little known that, even if the robbers should suspect him of making such a detour, not one of them would ever think of looking for him there.
In this ravine, however, I had, as an innocent child, played with my brothers, as well as with Medini, and our tenant's children.
Satagira noticed that the hand with which I drew on the board trembled, and asked me if I were feverish. I answered that it was only a little tiredness after a sleepless night. But he took my hand, and found to his apprehension that it was cold and damp, and, when I wished to withdraw it with the remark that that signified nothing, continued to hold it in his own while he exhorted me to be prudent and to take care of myself; and in his look and voice I observed, with unspeakable resentment and even with horror, something of the admiring tenderness of those days when he had sued for my hand in vain. I hastened to say that I really did not feel quite well, and intended to betake myself at once to bed.
But Satagira followed me out into the gallery and there, where we were alone, he began to excuse himself. He had, it was true, he said, neglected me for a long time for the mother of his son, but after his return that should be different; it would no longer be necessary for me to spend the nights alone on the Terrace.
He showed a tenderness that seemed to have arisen from the grave of a long-forgotten youthful love, a love which, as I was forced to recognise, had even, with a certain stubborn fidelity, existed only for me; but although this could not fail to dispose my heart somewhat in his favour, so that, for a moment, I wavered in my purpose, yet his parting words, which were uttered with a honeyed smile and loathsome familiarity, were but too surely of a nature to destroy this inclination again, inasmuch as they reminded me of rights which had been filched from me by his cowardly treachery.