He threw his arms round her. She rose and flung him from her with a force that cast him upon his back.
“Wretch!” she cried, with the dignity of subdued emotion, “think not to lead me blindfold into guilt, by assuming the character of a Being who is unable to endure the stains of thy pollution. Quit me, I command thee, and leave me here to die; for know that I would rather perish by the slow process of starvation than submit to the moral defilements with which you would encrust my soul.”
The old man rose with difficulty, muttering curses, and hobbled from the vault. Unappalled by the prospect of the vilest persecution, or, with perhaps more probability, of a horrible death, the lovely Hindoo calmly resigned herself to her destiny, resolved to perish, under whatever aspect death might approach her, rather than become the victim of her odious persecutor. Her mind was agitated by a tumult of conflicting thoughts. She had been made sensible of having lived hitherto under the delusions of a false faith. Her conclusions upon the nature and quality of Deity became vague and undefined, and she knew not on what to repose her trust. Still her soul was impressed with the one vast idea of omnipotent agency, and she felt that she was under both its dominion and its power. The purity of her own conscience gave her confidence that she should not be deserted.
She had not been long balancing the issues of life and death, when two female devotees, in the habit of attending upon the idol, and familiarized with scenes of the grossest vice, entered the vault, one of them bearing a lamp. They were dressed in the meretricious attire peculiar to their vocation, and employed all their arts of persuasion to induce the youthful widow to dismiss her absurd prejudices, as they termed her virtuous resistance, and submit to the will of their god, who, they assured her, was a tender and indulgent divinity. She repelled their arguments with lofty scorn. Finding that persuasion was lost upon her, one of them said—
“Well, use your own pleasure; but since you refuse the offers of your spiritual guardian, you must no longer pollute with your presence the secret sanctuary, where he condescends to visit those whom he honours with his preference. Follow us.”
“Whither would you lead me?”
“You will shortly know.”
“I shall not stir from this spot in such company.”
The women set up a loud laugh, and one of them, approaching the widow, said with a gesticulation of vulgar ferocity, “Follow us quietly, or, by the chackra[9] of Vishnoo, you will be dragged like a refractory beast. Think a moment before you determine to resist.”
The widow replied not, but by a movement of her hand signified her consent to follow. One of the women went before with the light, and the other behind. They passed through a long narrow passage, vaulted overhead, and evidently underground. There was no outlet on either side. It was terminated by a straight staircase, so narrow that only one person could ascend at a time. Upon reaching the top, there was a small square landing-place, with two doors at opposite sides.