"I am the unhappy daughter of Vyas Shastree of Tooljapoor, who was murdered, and I am an orphan," she cried sobbing. "O, defend me from him; he would have done me violence and dishonour."
"Moro Trimmul," said the old man sadly, "how often hast thou been warned, and what new wickedness is this?—against a Brahmun girl too, and the daughter of the man to whom thy sister was given! O, shame!"
"She is a Moorlee," he replied sulkily, "and has done dishonour to the Mother by living with Mussulmans in camp. It was from them I have rescued her, and would have taken her to Wye, but she resisted. I have done no evil, Pundit, nor intended any."
"Is this true, girl?" asked the Brahmun.
"Quite true, Maharaj," answered Tara, sobbing hysterically, and hardly knowing what she said: "only take me hence, and I will tell thee all; but I am not impure,—I am not defiled,—I have nothing to be ashamed of. O, put your hand on my head, and take me to my people in Wye. Save me, else I shall die; or kill me, rather than let him or the woman come near me. When I am alone with your family I will tell them all."
"Come," said the man, who was Govind Narrayen, the principal envoy of the Rajah Sivaji, and a Brahmun of wealth and high station in the country, best known among the people under the familiar title of Baba Sahib. "I am well known, and I knew and honoured your father, and grieve his death. Come with me, and you shall go on with my people at once to Wye. They leave the camp to avoid the confusion, and will take care of you, and the bearers and palankeen are still in the street.
"As to you, Moro Trimmul," he continued, turning to him, "I reserve my judgment till I have inquired from this girl of what she complains. I bid you, however, beware. The Maharaja is not what he used to be, and will submit to no profligacy now. I take this girl as my daughter, and she is safe against you. Beware!" And so saying, and giving his arm for Tara to lean on, while he partly supported her with the other, he led her out, and once more placed her in the litter, which was taken up and carried forward rapidly.
The Envoy and his escort had also moved with the camp, and he had sent on his family to a stage some miles distant. As he passed through the street of the village where Tara had been set down, the bearers of her litter, who had remained with it, hearing the stifled scream from within the court, and alarmed by the sudden closing and fastening of the door, had stopped Baba Sahib as he went by, and besought him to see whether Tara was not in danger. He had dismounted, some of his men had burst in the court door, and we know the rest.
"Again baffled, O witch that thou art!" cried Moro Pundit, flinging himself on the ground as Tara passed out, and tearing up the clay of the floor in the agony of his passion: "what sent that meddling fool to aid thee? If it had been only that proud boy she loves, ah! I would have slain him and her together. Gunga! Gunga! where art thou? O girl, I burn—I choke! She too is gone, devil that she is. If thou hadst only helped me sooner I had stopped the screams, and no one could have heard them. Gunga! dost thou hear? By——," and he swore a frightful oath, "come hither, or I will come and stab thee: art thou too playing with me? Beware!"
The girl advanced from a dark corner trembling, yet without fear; and as she did so, he raised himself on his arm, and she saw him grasp a knife at his waist-band. "Kill me," she said, "if thou wilt; twice I have aided thee, and twice the Mother hath saved her from us. I will have no more of it."