A Syrup of the Bees

by F. W. Bain

XII

But Makarandiká's face fell. And after a while, he began to laugh, with laughter that quivered, as if it hesitated between agony and scorn. And she exclaimed: Pandits! Does anybody laugh, as he did in his sleep, who dreams of pandits? What has laughter such as his to do with pandits? Nay, he is trying to hide from me a secret, not knowing, that in the absence of his soul, his body is playing traitor to him against his will. Ah! well I understand, he closed his eyes, to keep me on the outside of his soul, which he opens in the sweetness of a dream to someone else. So, now, let him beware. And she drew still closer to his side, and leaned over him, with her eyes fixed upon his lips, and a heart that beat with such agitation that she pressed one hand upon her breast, as if to bid it to be still, lest its throbbing should rouse him from his sleep.

And as she gazed, there came over her soul such a sense of desolation, mixed with the fire of jealousy, and wrath at her own inability to follow him into his dream and snatch him for her own from everybody else, that her breath was within a little of stopping of its own accord. And she yearned to find, as it were, a refuge, in tears that refused to flow, and her head began to spin. And all at once, a shudder that was half a sob shook her as she kneeled, mixed with an almost irresistible desire to clasp him in her arms, and claim him for what he actually was, her husband, and the only lord without a rival of her own miserable heart. And a fever that turned her hot and cold by turns began to hurry through her limbs. And she murmured to herself, without knowing what she said: Shall he leave me here, deserted, alone in the darkness of this palace and the night? to meet in a dream where I cannot follow him the wife I cannot oust from his soul? Who knows? It may be that at this very moment, they are laughing me to scorn, locked in each other's arms.

And so as she continued, gazing at him with a soul set as it were on fire by suspicion and images of her own creating, and a heart stung by the viper of recollection, and yet, strange! swelling with a passionate and hopeless yearning for his affection to return, meanwhile, the soul of Arunodaya, all heedless of the passion that menaced his abandoned body, lay, as it were, drowned in the honey of his dream. And once again, amid the tumult of the pandits, the eyes of Sarojiní were drawing his soul towards her own, as if with cords, woven of the triple strands of colour and reminiscence and the intensity of a love that was returned tenfold. And so as he lay, conscious of absolutely nothing but the abyss of those unfathomable eyes, all at once that shameless maid came forward yet again, and took the hand of yet another king, and said as before: King, listen and reply to the question that the husband of Sarojiní must answer well.

And Sarojiní, hearing her speak, drew her eyes away sadly from Arunodaya, and turned them slowly on that waiting king. And she said: Maháráj, say, shall I choose the bitter or the sweet?

And then, that miserable king, as if he feared the fate of his predecessors, stood for a while in silence. And he said at last: The sweet.

Then said Sarojiní: King, beyond all doubt my crimes in a former birth are bearing fruit, in depriving me of such a husband as thyself.

And instantly, all the pandits broke into a shout, and as they did so, she shot at Arunodaya a glance that seemed as it were to say to him: Be patient, for thy turn also will presently arrive.

And at that very moment, something took him as it were by the throat. And as the dream suddenly went out and disappeared, he awoke, in the roar of the waves and the wind, to find that Makarandiká had her hand upon his breast, to wake him from his dream. And she said absolutely nothing. But her eyes were fixed upon his own, filled to the very brim with entreaty, and affection, and terror and grief, and despair.

And seeing her, he frowned, as if the very sight of her was poison to his soul. And he shut his eyes, and fell back upon his pillow, to go back to his dream.