"Such a fate is as much dreaded by the orthodox Hindu as the fate believed by Christians to be the portion of malefactors after death," said Bopaul, without hesitation.
"Then you must take care never to offend your Deity," remarked Wenaston.
"Our code of offence is different from yours. We have no decalogue. I may commit murder, for instance, without offence, if I kill a pariah or an out-caste; but if the victim of my enmity happened to be a Brahman, the aspect of the deed would be utterly changed. The sin would be enormous. Nothing short of a cycle of inferior births could reinstate me and restore me to the position I occupy at the present time."
"None of you are likely to kill a Brahman, I imagine," said Wenaston lightly, and with the design of dissipating a little of the solemnity that seemed to have settled upon Coomara and Ananda.
His well-meant efforts were unavailing. It was evident that so serious a subject was not to be dismissed in a moment.
"There are other ways of transgressing, which, if persisted in, bring down upon us the curse of inferior rebirth," said Bopaul. "Carelessness and neglect in the performance of our religious duties. Manu, the law-giver, himself defines sin in clear, unmistakeable terms. We can transgress by neglecting to read the Vedas; by falling away from prescribed customs; by remissness in the performance of holy rites. In addition, offences may come through using a wrong diet and omitting ceremonial ablutions and prayers. In short, our sins chiefly consist of the breaking of our caste rules by omission or commission."
"Your code is simple enough if you have it all laid down by your law-giver. All you have to do is to take care not to break your rules," observed Wenaston, ignoring a fact that he was well aware of.
The conversation had gone beyond the limits of light inconsequent talk; and he was watching for an opportunity to express his views courteously and without giving offence on caste and the absurdity of clinging to a belief in rigid ceremonial. By profession he was an educationalist. Without any intention of proselytising it came naturally to him to combat beliefs that he considered to be obsolete and obstructive to progress of thought. He had started the conversation simply to pass the time as they travelled. He continued it that he might tilt without offence at that which he took to be the greatest obstacle to the advancement of education among the Hindus. His words were not without effect. It was Bopaul who ventured to speak out and declare what was in the mind of all three.
"In our case we have broken the rules of caste, and broken them badly. The journey to England alone involves a rupture of a serious nature."
Ananda wore an expression of anxiety that he did not attempt to hide. It was true. From the Hindu point of view he was living in sin. He had not only offended against the order of his caste in crossing the sea; but every day that was passed in the foreign country was a continuance of sin. The sense of sin lay heavy on his conscience and at times weighed him down to the verge of nervous melancholy. Under its influence he had, soon after his arrival in England, written an urgent letter to his father praying that he might be permitted to return and perform those purificatory rites which would remove the burden of offence.