Shám Babu was astonished by the tone adopted by his visitor. He asked, “Why, what’s the matter with Gopál, nothing wrong I hope and trust?”
“No, not exactly; but I’m in a hurry to-day, you must excuse my taking leave.”
Shám Babu, however, would not be put off with vague insinuations. He said, “I must ask you, Rámanáth, to be more precise. You know your brother has borrowed Rs. 10,000 from me on a mere note of hand, and I am naturally very anxious to learn the truth.”
Rámanáth Babu paused for a few seconds before replying. “It is a fact that my brother’s speculations have been unfortunate of late. He certainly made a good deal of money at one time, but sunk the bulk of it in bricks and mortar, which you know are not easily turned into liquid capital. You, as a large creditor, ought to be told how the land lies.”
“This is the first I have heard of Gopál’s difficulties,” groaned Shám Babu.
“Yes, because no one troubled himself to tell you the truth; but I can assure you that Gopál’s liabilities are something awful, and it is quite possible that he may have to take insolvency proceedings.”
“You don’t say so! What shall I do? If Gopál becomes bankrupt, I shall be utterly ruined.”
“Well, I cannot advise you fully,” replied Rámanáth Babu, “but forewarned is forearmed. If I were in your shoes I would certainly call in my loan.” Thereon he took leave.
Shám Babu passed a restless night, dreaming of the debtor’s jail and a starving family. On Hari Babu’s return, next morning, he related the purport of his conversation with Rámanáth. His host said: “You should not attach too much importance to such tittle-tattle. Rámanáth has had a quarrel with his brother about family matters, and he is not at all averse to doing him a bad turn.” Shám Babu was not satisfied with this explanation. He answered:—
“I can hardly believe Rámanáth capable of telling deliberate lies, which must inevitably be detected.”