"And guard ye, too, with our lives," said Lukshmun. "Yes, to-morrow early, we will set out."
And so next day Vishnu Pundit and his friends marvelled that the Shastree and his family left them so suddenly, and knew not why they went, or whither.
[CHAPTER XCI.]
We need not relate how the hunchback was washed clean from his sins, how he and his companion entertained those who came to them that night, nor how he resisted their temptations to stay and sing to others, who, they told him, would load him with gold. Those he was taking to his master were more precious than gold; and the same anxiety to present them to him in safety, was shared equally by Fazil and by Tara while awaiting their arrival.
Five days,—two to go and three to return—perhaps more; never had time appeared so interminable to those who remained at Kurrar: never had journey appeared so wearisome to the Shastree. The spirit within him was strong and earnest, but he had suffered much; and, till roused by the hunchback's tidings, Anunda and Radha feared that he had sunk into that lethargic apathy which often precedes death. He could not be awakened from it. Had Tara died a Sutee, it might have been endured. Excitement and religious enthusiasm, even the glory of the voluntary sacrifice, would have deadened nature for a while, at least, in both her parents; but the attack upon the sacred procession, though but one had died in it, by, as they supposed, lawless robbers—and the subsequent murder, as they believed, of their child—had produced a revulsion which, to the Shastree, had wellnigh proved fatal, and for many days those about him gave up hope of life. The remains, as they supposed, of Tara had, as we know, been brought in, and burned by the river-side with all due ceremony; and after the period of mourning and impurity had passed, the Shastree and his wives were to have set out on their return home. Still, however, they lingered; for the climate had not agreed with Anunda, who had, in her turn, fallen ill with fever, and they could not travel.
During this period, they had heard from friends much of what had befallen Tara: and yet not all of Moro Trimmul's share in her misfortunes. The only person who could have told them truly was Gunga, and she was dead. Radha had her own suspicions of her brother; but beyond his wild attempt on the day of the Sutee, to induce her to put Tara into his power, she had not seen him; and his violent death, while it affected her mournfully, ended her anxieties ere the murder of Gunga was discovered.
It was with difficulty that the impatience of the Shastree and Anunda could be restrained. They reached and passed Sattara the first day, and would fain have travelled by relays of men without resting, but the hunchback and Bulwunt Rao, when they joined him, would not hear of increased exertion. "I will write by a speedy messenger that you are safe," he said; "but if I do not bring you in well to them, my lord will be angry, therefore submit yourselves to necessity,"—as, indeed, they were obliged to do.
Of his master's intentions, the hunchback had said nothing. Who was he, to know anything about them? The lady Tara was in honour as a guest; that was all he knew. Yes, his master had carried her off. Could he know that one who had been his guest, and had truly eaten of his salt, was to be burned alive, and not make an effort to save her? and she was still a Brahmun, and had Brahmun women attending upon her.
But Bulwunt Rao, who waited their coming at a village on the road with an escort of the Paigah, had no such discretion, and told what he believed—that Fazil and Tara had been privately betrothed. The lady Lurlee, he said, had one day distributed sugar-candy and pân to all the household, and to the mosque and other holy places in the town: and some had been sent to him on a silver salver covered with a cloth of brocade. What did that mean? And when the Shastree remonstrated, with a natural horror, at the idea of a Brahmun girl marrying a Mussulman, Bulwunt Rao replied curtly—