“Thou art back, and I have much to say unto thee. How dost thou mean to live, and keep thy children, O Chūnnee Sing?”
“I hope to hire that plot of land near Ram Lall’s garden, and till it by hand, and sow it with cotton, jawarri, and dál. I have recovered my house which Zālim Sing sold.”
“Wouldst thou leave that dog-kennel, and come and abide here with me?”
“Here—with thee!” he echoed incredulously; he could not believe his ears.
“Yea. Hearken to me, Chūnnee, the son of Duloo Sing. It is in my mind to make thee mine heir. Thou hast suffered wrongfully for my treasure; it shall be thine one day.”
“I did not take the money or jewels, it is true, O Turroo Sing, but it is true that I desired to steal them—not from love of lucre and gold, or the vice of robbery, but for the sake of my children, who were perishing. All that day the little ones tasted naught but cow’s food. The boy asked thee for a few cowries, and thou gavest him blows; and an evil spirit tempted me as I walked in the fields at even, and said in mine ear, ‘Turroo is rich—yea, very rich. He hath a house and land and cattle, and warm bedding, and brass cooking-pots, and a store of grain laid up in his granary for many seasons. Moreover, he hath a great treasure buried beneath his floor, which is of no profit to him, save to handle and to count. Behold, some of this useless silver will feed my children and me. I will dig through the wall, and steal, under the cover of darkness. The man is old; he sleeps fast. I shall take one hundred rupees, and be happy.’ But I failed, as thou knowest. Nevertheless, I was guilty.”
“Thou wert hungry, and thy children were crying for food; but Zālim Sing had no such excuse—he is a shaitan, the son of a she ass. Thou shalt take his place, and come after me; thou shalt live here now with thy children. Surely a strong man, with a lathi, is better than an aged chokedar and a dog! I may be robbed again; with thee I am safe; for doubtless thou wilt guard thine own. Let the old hag remain in thine hut, and bring thy children hither.”
So, to the amazement of the village, Chūnnee, the pauper and the prisoner, was elevated to the right hand of the richest man in Paroor, and rose proportionately in every one’s estimation. He tilled the land, and sold the crops, and cut the cane, whilst Girunda spent his time between the fields and the village munshi—as befitted a boy who would rise in the world, and perchance go to college!
His grand-uncle was proud of him, and never tired of boasting of Girunda’s seventy-mile march with his sister on his back.
Gyannia now wears a gold nose-ring, silver bangles, and a chain—which gauds comprise most of her toilette. She is a happy infant, and passes her four sallow cousins in the narrowest lane, with her head in the air.