The Brahman was deeply incensed. Drawing himself up to his full height, he looked scornfully at Samarendra, and said:—
“Babu, you dare to order me, a Brahman, to be ejected with violence from your house. Is there no religion left in this world? Mark my words, a day is coming when you will be poorer even than myself. I have spoken.” Then he strode out of the courtyard in high dudgeon. Samarendra merely laughed aloud and hurled mocking epithets after his retreating figure, to which no reply was vouchsafed.
Next morning he received a letter from the District Magistrate which filled him with mingled joy and terror. It contained a curt request to call at once on a matter of great importance. He drove to the great man’s bungalow arrayed in his best, but was kept waiting for nearly a quarter of an hour in the porch. When he was ushered into the magistrate’s study he saw intuitively that something was wrong. His salám was returned by a mere inclination of the head and a request to be seated. Then the Magistrate spoke in tones of chilling politeness:—
“Rái Bahádur, I’ve sent for you to say that a subscription of Rs. 10,000 is wholly unworthy of your position. If you wish, I will send it to the Secretary of the Memorial Fund; but I warn you plainly that the most you can expect in return is an expression of the Lieutenant-Governor’s thanks in the Gazette. I could not possibly recommend you for a title for such a paltry sum.”
Poor Samarendra’s heart beat more loudly than the clock on the magistrate’s mantelpiece. He stammered out: “I need only assure your honour that I have given as much as I could afford; but if your honour thinks the amount insufficient—er—er—er—I am quite willing to give—twice as much”. So saying he awaited a reply in trembling apprehension. It was satisfactory.
“Now, Rái Bahádur, you are talking sense. Send me Rs. 10,000 more for the fund and I’ll undertake to submit your name to Government for a Rájáship. It will be just in time for the New Year’s Gazette. Now you may take leave.”
Samarendra bowed himself out with precipitation and, on returning home, sent for his factotum, Bipin, to whom he related this momentous interview, with an injunction to raise Rs. 10,000 more by hook or by crook. Bipin shook his head ominously and feared that no moneylender would advance any considerable sum on estates already over-burdened. However, he promised to do his best and negotiated so successfully that Rs. 10,000 were procured at 24 per cent. in less than a week. This additional subscription was gracefully acknowledged by the District Magistrate, and a fortnight later Samarendra’s drooping spirits were revived by the appearance of a notification in the Gazette thanking him warmly for his “munificence and public spirit”. There was nothing for it but to count the days of the expiring year.
On 31st December, 189-, his impatience could brook no further delay. Hurrying to Calcutta by train, he sent a trusty servant to the Government printing office with orders to obtain the earliest copy of the Gazette at any price. He slept not a wink on that fateful night and rose betimes to intercept the messenger.
At last the bulky document was thrust into his hands. He unfolded it with trembling fingers and glanced downwards through an interminable list of newly-made Máhárájas, Nawáb Bahádurs, Rájá Bahádurs, and Rájás—in the hope of finding his own name. Alas, it was conspicuous by its absence. Oh, the pangs of hope deferred and wounded pride! Death seemed to Samarendra preferable to a life of poverty and despair. He returned home crestfallen and nursed his disappointment until it landed him in a severe attack of brain fever. As soon as he felt strong enough to leave the house, he drove to the magistrate’s house for explanation and comfort. He was courteously received, but the Chief hinted that there might be a hitch about the title, as he himself had enemies in the Secretariat, who would be glad of an opportunity of placing him in a false position. He counselled patience and expressed a conviction that the birthday Gazette would contain the notification so ardently desired.
This was comforting, but Samarendra resolved to push his own interests. He remembered the promises made by Mr. Bernardson and took the next train to Calcutta in order to secure his influence. On reaching the Secretariat he learnt, with deep annoyance, that Mr. Bernardson had taken sick leave to England and was not likely to return. So the only course open was to wait for 24th May. Again he was disappointed, the list of birthday honours ignoring him completely. Samarendra had not even the resource of consulting the official who had lured him into extravagant expenditure. The District Magistrate was transferred to a distant and unhealthy part of the province, and his successor disclaimed all knowledge of the bargain.