A Mine of Faults

by F. W. Bain

And when he entered the arbour once more, and saw her again, this time, at the very sight of her, his heart trembled with delight, saying to itself, as if with relief: Ah! she is still there. And she was standing almost exactly in the attitude in which she stood before, save only, that she was not quite so close to the brink of the abyss. But she made a step towards it, as he entered, turning, and taking, as it were, her stand beside it, as much as to say: Here is my friend, and my defender, and my refuge. And all the surprise had vanished from her face: and instead of it, the eyes, with which she looked at him in doubt, were full of dark suspicion and distrust, mixed with apprehension. And they watched him, with close attention, as if she expected that, like a panther, he might make a sudden spring upon her, before she could escape. And she seemed to say to him, with silent alarm and indignation: What! has he actually returned? Ha! it is as I feared. And now, my only refuge lies at the very bottom of the gorge.

And then, as if afraid lest she should put her threat into execution, out of terror, before he could prevent her, the King said hastily: O mountain maiden, do not be afraid, to see me return: for I have done so, only because I was ashamed, first, for having broken in upon thy privacy, and then again, still more, for having left thee so abruptly, without explaining or excusing my intrusion. And if I am guilty, I am not without excuse: nor myself the one to blame: since I was brought here by the minister, Yogeshwara, who told me to expect in this arbour the arrival of the Guru of the King. And being an utter stranger, I know not, if I go away alone, whither to turn my steps. But in any case, I do adjure thee, to dismiss thy apprehension: since thou hast absolutely no occasion at all for alarm.

And while he spoke, she stood, listening, with suspicion, to his apology: and when he finished, all at once, she turned upon him like a fury, and exclaimed, stamping her little foot upon the ground: And how dared Yogeshwara bring thee to my arbour? Did I not refuse, when he begged me to lend it him, and yet, has he had the audacity to borrow it, against my will? and use it, as an inn, for passing strangers? And as the King stood, aghast, amazed at the sudden storm of indignation that fell upon him, like a traveller overtaken by a thundercloud, yet all the while wondering at the beauty of the lightning threatening to strike him, all at once, recollection suddenly brought into his mind, what Yogeshwara had said to him, just before he went away. And he murmured to himself: Apparently the owner of this arbour, notwithstanding Yogeshwara's diligence, is before me after all, and certainly this arbour is, as it seems, the very last place to which I should have come. And as he thought, all at once she said to him, with irritation: And who then art thou, whom he has placed here, as if on purpose to disturb me, and terrify me and annoy me?

And as the King looked at her, he said to himself: Now I shall pay for Yogeshwara's impertinence. And I feel like a culprit before her, and yet, somehow or other, her anger is delightful, like that of a child whose toy is broken, about to fly into a passion with anyone it sees. And he said: O maiden, be not angry with the innocent. For I am only Chand the son of Chand, arrived here this very morning on a visit of importance to thy King.

And as he spoke, she started with surprise: and then all at once, as he watched her, all her anger suddenly disappeared. And a smile, like that of one who recollects, crept over her face: and she dropped all her flowers upon the floor, and began to clap her hands. And she exclaimed: Ha! now I remember, and who else could it be? And I wonder that I did not think of it before: since they say, King Chand is a giant, and thy size is, as it were, thy guarantee, and the proof of thy words. And now, then, I will solve thy problem, in the matter of this arbour, by instantly going away myself, and leaving it to thee: to await by thyself the arrival of the Guru: for as to Yogeshwara, he shall learn another time, the danger of employing my arbour as an inn.

And instantly, she drew her veil around her face,[[11]] and came very quickly towards him, to pass by him, and escape by the door. But Chand put out his hand, as though to stop her, exclaiming: O daughter of King Mitra, for I cannot doubt that thou art she, I should be altogether inexcusable, if I came here only to deprive thee, and as it were, expel thee from thy arbour by my coming. See now, I will myself depart the very moment that the Guru arrives: and in the meantime, wilt thou not dismiss thy alarm and indignation, and suffer me to remain with thee, till he appears?

And as he spoke, Yogeshwara in his ambush exclaimed in delight: Ha! I did her wrong, and she is very clever. For now she has brought him to the point of begging for permission to remain, never dreaming, that that is exactly what she wishes him to do herself. And I thought that she had driven him away: but she, like a skilful angler, knew, that the hook was already in the jaws of her royal fish.

V

So as the King spoke, with imploring eyes, and entreaty in his voice, she turned suddenly towards him, and began as it were to examine him, with curiosity and amazement. And after a while she said, as if with incredulity: Have my own ears turned traitors, and is it now, that they are playing me false, or was it then, when, as I thought, I heard thee name thyself King Chand the son of Chand? And Chand said: Nay, but I am actually he. And she laughed scornfully, and exclaimed: Art thou absolutely sure, that thou hast not mistaken thy identity? Can it be, that thou art really Chand? For I have heard, that of all companions in the world, women are those from whom he most desires to escape.

And she looked at him awhile, with eyes, of which he could not tell, whether that which filled their blue was disbelief or derision or amusement; and all at once, she turned away, and went back to her basket, and began once more to busy herself about its flowers, kneeling down beside it. And after a while, she turned her head towards him, and said, shooting at him a glance out of the very corner of her eye: King Chand has my permission, if he chooses, to remain, till the Guru arrives: and in the meanwhile, I crave his permission to return to my work among my flowers, in which his uninvited entrance interrupted me: since such a thing as I am is not fit for such a hero as is he: nor can it be supposed that conversation such as mine could possibly amuse him. And yet, would the King deign to be advised by such a thing as me, he would go instantly away, without losing any time: for there is danger in remaining.