While they were thus talking, a crowd of ten or twenty persons had collected, and at length the report reached the superintendent of the archers. He sent a soldier to bring before him the pupil, the goldsmith, and the chief jeweller, together with the ornaments. And when all were in the hall of justice, he looked at the jewels and said to the young man, ‘Tell me truly, whence have you obtained these?’
‘My spiritual preceptor,’ said Vajramukut, pretending great fear, ‘who is now worshipping in the cemetery outside the town, gave me these white stones, with an order to sell them. How know I whence he obtained them? Dismiss me, my lord, for I am an innocent man.’
‘Let the ascetic be sent for,’ commanded the kotwal.[69] Then, having taken both of them, along with the jewels, into the presence of King Dantawat, he related the whole circumstances.
‘Master!’ said the king on hearing the statement, ‘whence have you obtained these jewels?’
The spiritual preceptor, before deigning an answer, pulled from under his arm the hide of a black antelope, which he spread out and smoothed deliberately before using it as an asan.[70] He then began to finger a rosary of beads each as large as an egg, and after spending nearly an hour in mutterings and in rollings of the head, he looked fixedly at the Raja, and replied:
‘By Shiva! great king, they are mine own! On the fourteenth of the dark half of the moon at night, I had gone into a place where dead bodies are burned, for the purpose of accomplishing a witch’s incantation. After long and toilsome labour she appeared, but her demeanour was so unruly that I was forced to chastise her. I struck her with this, my trident, on the left leg, if memory serves me. As she continued to be refractory, in order to punish her I took off all her jewels and clothes, and told her to go where she pleased. Even this had little effect upon her—never have I looked upon so perverse a witch. In this way the jewels came into my possession.’
Raja Dantawat was stunned by these words. He begged the ascetic not to leave the palace for a while, and forthwith walked into the private apartments of the women. Happening first to meet the queen dowager, he said to her, ‘Go, without losing a minute, O my mother, and look at Padmavati’s left leg, and see if there is a mark or not, and what sort of a mark!’ Presently she returned, and coming to the king said, ‘Son, I find thy daughter lying upon her bed, and complaining that she has met with an accident; and, indeed, Padmavati must be in great pain. I found that some sharp instrument with three points had wounded her. The girl says that a nail hurt her, but I never yet heard of a nail making three holes. However, we must all hasten, or there will be erysipelas, tumefaction, gangrene, mortification, amputation, and perhaps death in the house,’ concluded the old queen, hurrying away in the pleasing anticipation of these ghastly consequences.
For a moment King Dantawat’s heart was ready to break. But he was accustomed to master his feelings; he speedily applied the reins of reflection to the wild steed of passion. He thought to himself, ‘the affairs of one’s household, the intentions of one’s heart, and whatever one’s losses may be, should not be disclosed to any one. Since Padmavati is a witch, she is no longer my daughter. I will verily go forth and consult the spiritual preceptor.’
With these words the king went outside, where the guru was still sitting upon his black hide, making marks with his trident on the floor. Having requested that the pupil might be sent away, and having cleared the room, he said to the jogi, ‘O holy man! what punishment for the heinous crime of witchcraft is awarded to a woman in the Dharma-Shastra?’[71]
‘Great king!’ replied the devotee, ‘in the Dharma-Shastra it is thus written: “If a Brahman, a cow, a woman, a child, or any other person whatsoever, who may be dependent on us, should be guilty of a perfidious act, their punishment is that they be banished the country.” However much they may deserve death, we must not spill their blood, as Lakshmi[72] flies in horror from the deed.’