Nevertheless the magistrate in him asked: "Have you any proofs?"
Raicharan said: "How could there be any proof of such a deed? God alone knows that I stole your boy, and no one else in the world."
When Anukul saw how eagerly his wife was clinging to the boy, he realised the futility of asking for proofs. It would be wiser to believe. And then,—where could an old man like Raicharan get such a boy from? And why should his faithful servant deceive him for nothing?
"But," he added severely, "Raicharan, you must not stay here."
"Where shall I go, Master?" said Raicharan, in a choking voice, folding his hands. "I am old. Who will take in an old man as a servant?"
The mistress said: "Let him stay. My child will be pleased. I forgive him."
But Anukul's [magisterial] conscience would not allow him. "No," he said, "he cannot be forgiven for what he has done."
Raicharan bowed to the ground and clasped Anukul's feet. "Master," he cried, "let me stay. It was not I who did it. It was God."
Anukul's conscience was more shocked than ever when Raicharan tried to put the blame on God's shoulders.
"No," he said, "I could not allow it. I cannot trust you any more. You have done an act of treachery."