Mirjan's boat was tied near the landing-place after its freight had been taken over to the market-place. There was no one on it, for the manager had arranged for some entertainment to which all had been invited. After dusk the boat, loaded with rubbish, was holed and set adrift. It sank in mid-stream.
Mirjan understood the whole thing. He came to me in tears to beg for mercy. "I was wrong, sir—" he began.
"What makes you realize that all of a sudden?" I sneered.
He made no direct reply. "The boat was worth two thousand rupees," he said. "I now see my mistake, and if excused this time I will never …" with which he threw himself at my feet.
I asked him to come ten days later. If only we could pay him that two thousand rupees at once, we could buy him up body and soul. This is just the sort of man who could render us immense service, if won over. We shall never be able to make any headway unless we can lay our hands on plenty of money.
As soon as Bimala came into the sitting-room, in the evening, I said as I rose up to receive her: "Queen! Everything is ready, success is at hand, but we must have money.
"Money? How much money?"
"Not so very much, but by hook or by crook we must have it!"
"But how much?"
"A mere fifty thousand rupees will do for the present."