"Fifty thousand!" Sandip had demanded.
"What is fifty thousand?" cried my intoxicated heart. "You shall have it!"
How to get it, where to get it, were minor points not worth troubling over. Look at me. Had I not risen, all in one moment, from my nothingness to a height above everything? So shall all things come at my beck and call. I shall get it, get it, get it —there cannot be any doubt.
Thus had I come away from Sandip the other day. Then as I looked about me, where was it—the tree of plenty? Oh, why does this outer world insult the heart so?
And yet get it I must; how, I do not care; for sin there cannot be. Sin taints only the weak; I with my __Shakti__ am beyond its reach. Only a commoner can be a thief, the king conquers and takes his rightful spoil … I must find out where the treasury is; who takes the money in; who guards it.
I spent half the night standing in the outer verandah peering at the row of office buildings. But how to get that fifty thousand rupees out of the clutches of those iron bars? If by some __mantram__ I could have made all those guards fall dead in their places, I would not have hesitated—so pitiless did I feel!
But while a whole gang of robbers seemed dancing a war-dance within the whirling brain of its Rani, the great house of the Rajas slept in peace. The gong of the watch sounded hour after hour, and the sky overhead placidly looked on.
At last I sent for Amulya.
"Money is wanted for the Cause," I told him. "Can you not get it out of the treasury?"
"Why not?" said he, with his chest thrown out.