“If you wish to have it, it is yours,” the beggar continued. “But I must tell you one other thing. Whoever eats this fruit shall indeed bear a son, but he will not be as other children. His life will not be altogether within himself as with other people; it will be bound up with an object quite outside of himself. If this object should fall into the hands of an enemy that enemy could, by willing it, bring upon him misfortune or even death, and this no matter how closely the child was watched and guarded. And now, knowing this, do you still wish to eat the fruit?”
“Yes, yes!” cried Suo.
“Then I will tell you what this object is and where it is to be found,” said the beggar. He drew still closer to the Ranee and whispered in her ear, but though what he told her was so important Suo paid but little attention to it; she thought only of the fruit, and the happiness that might come to her if she ate it.
Now all the while the beggar had been talking to Suo, Duo had been seated at her window just above them, and she overheard all that was said. Only when the beggar came closer to Suo and whispered in her ear Duo could not hear what he said, though she leaned out as far as she could and strained her ears to listen. So, though she had learned that if Suo had a child its life would depend on some object outside of itself, she did not learn what that object was.
The beggar now gave the fruit to Suo, and she took it and ate all of it. Not one seed or bit of rind did she miss. After that she went back to her own apartments to dream upon the joy that might be coming to her.
Within the year, even as the beggar had promised, Suo bore a child, and this child was so large and strong and handsome that he was the wonder of all who saw him.
The Rajah was wild with joy. He could scarcely think or talk of anything but his son, and he showered gifts and caresses upon the happy mother. Duo was quite forgotten. He never even went near her apartments, and her heart was filled with jealousy and hatred toward Suo and the little prince Dalim Kumar,—for so the child was named. Nothing would have given her more joy than to be able to injure them and bring sorrow and misfortune upon them.
Now as Dalim Kumar grew older he became very fond of a flock of pigeons that his father had given him, and he spent a great deal of time playing with them in the courtyard. They were so tame they would come at his call and light upon his head and shoulders. Sometimes they flew in through the windows of Duo’s apartments which overlooked the courtyard. Duo scattered peas and grain on the floor for them, and they came and ate them. Then one day she caught two or three of them.
Soon after Dalim Kumar missed his pigeons and began calling them.
Duo leaned from her window. “Your pigeons are up here,” she cried. “If you want them you must come up and get them.”