“How came we to be slaves? What villain hath sold us?” exclaimed the indignant Sardar.
“O man!” the stranger replied, “no one is here that hath not sold himself into bondage; and lo! the money which he hath received in exchange for his soul is now the chain with which he is bound. Fools, fools! hath not Christ said: What shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Mark viii. 36.)
Even as he spoke there was a fearful noise of drums, mingled with shrieks and howlings: the tyrant was coming to the slave-market to claim his victims.
Ganesh Das in his dream trembled exceedingly, for never had he beheld a form so horrible as that which he looked on now. The glare of the enemy’s eyes was as the glare of the tiger’s when he rangeth the jungle at night for his prey. The tyrant advanced to the first of the slaves, and Ganesh Das saw a poor wretch crouching down in extreme terror at the feet of the soul-destroyer.
Then he of the black robe said: “Behold! this wretch is a mighty vizier, who became wealthy as a rajah through the bribes which he took. Look at the gold and the jewels which bind him now, so that he cannot so much as look up!”
Ganesh Das looked, and behold the golden chains were eating into the very flesh of the man who had sold himself to the soul-destroyer.
“He is mine!” cried the tyrant; “bear him away!”
Then he advanced to the slave who was next to Ganesh Das,—a man who stood with his eyes almost starting from his head with terror, whilst he vainly tried to burst fetters made of silver rupees.
“This is a dacoit,”[57] said he of the black robe; “he hath sold himself for the silver chain which thou seest.”
“He is mine!” cried the tyrant; “bear him away!”