The woodcutter, mad with anger and astonishment, turned excitedly to his wife, and cried—
"Do you not know me, I, your husband, who left you only this morning? Do you not know me, or do you forget so soon, that you accept a stranger in my place?"
The woman looked from one to the other, and examined each carefully, and was more puzzled than ever.
"Oh, wife, do you not know me, do you not know me?" moaned the woodman in a grief-stricken voice.
The woman wrung her hands as she answered—
"I don't know if you are my husband; you are both so much alike that I cannot tell." Then she broke down and wept.
And the Nāt hearing, smiled where he sat in the shadows.
After awhile the woman dried her tears, smoothed back her heavy masses of black hair, and asked what was to be done.
They neither of them answered. Then she said, "Let us go and seek Manoo, and abide by what he says."
Manoo was a very learned judge, who had been appointed, while still quite young, Chief Justice of the King's Court, and was renowned for the wise and prudent judgments that he invariably pronounced.