The Rajah said, “Very well. I am willing that you should go. Take care of your wife; guard her as the apple of your eye; and be sure you never permit the golden necklace to be taken from her neck and given to any one else, for in that case she would die.” The Prince promised, and he returned with Sodewa Bai to his father’s kingdom. At their departure the Rajah of the Mountain gave them many elephants, horses, camels and attendants, besides jewels innumerable and much money, and many rich hangings, robes and carpets. The old Rajah and Ranee of the Plain were delighted to welcome home their son and his beautiful bride; and there they might all have lived their lives long in uninterrupted peace and happiness, had it not been for one unfortunate circumstance. Rowjee (for that was the Prince’s name) had another wife, to whom he had been married when a child, long before he had found Sodewa Bai’s golden slipper; she therefore was the first Ranee, though Sodewa Bai was the one he loved the best (for the first Ranee was of a sullen, morose and jealous disposition.) His father also, and his mother, preferred Sodewa Bai to their other daughter-in-law. The first Ranee could not bear to think of any one being Ranee beside herself; and more especially of another not only in the same position, but better loved by all around than she; and therefore in her wicked heart she hated Sodewa Bai and longed for her destruction, though outwardly she pretended to be very fond of her. The old Rajah and Ranee, knowing of the first Ranee’s jealous and envious disposition, never liked Sodewa Bai to be much with her; but as they had only a vague fear, and no certain ground for alarm, they could do no more than watch both carefully; and Sodewa Bai, who was guileless and unsuspicious, would remonstrate with them when they warned her not to be so intimate with Rowjee Rajah’s other wife, saying, “I have no fear. I think she loves me as I love her. Why should we disagree? Are we not sisters?” One day, Rowjee Rajah was obliged to go on a journey to a distant part of his father’s kingdom, and, being unable to take Sodewa Bai with him, he left her in his parents’ charge, promising to return soon, and begging them to watch over her, and to go every morning and see that she was well; which they agreed to do.
A little while after their husband had gone, the first Ranee went to Sodewa Bai’s room and said to her, “It is lonely for us both, now Rowjee is away; but you must come often to see me, and I will come often to see you and talk to you, and so we will amuse ourselves as well as we can.” To this Sodewa Bai agreed, and to amuse the first Ranee she took out all her jewels and pretty things to show her. As they were looking over them, the first Ranee said, “I notice you always wear that row of golden beads round your neck. Why do you? Have you any reason for always wearing the same ones?” “Oh, yes,” answered Sodewa Bai, thoughtlessly. “I was born with these beads round my neck, and the wise men told my father and mother that they contain my soul, and that if any one else wore them I should die. Therefore I always wear them. I have never once taken them off.” When the first Ranee heard this news she was very much pleased; yet she feared to steal the beads herself, both because she was afraid she might be found out, and because she did not like with her own hands to commit the crime. So, returning to her house, she called her most confidential servant, a negress, whom she knew to be trustworthy, and said to her, “Go this evening to Sodewa Bai’s room when she is asleep, and take from her neck the string of golden beads, and fasten them round your own neck, and return to me. Those beads contain her soul, and as soon as you put them on she will cease to live.” The negress agreed to do as she was told; for she had long known that her mistress hated Sodewa Bai and desired nothing so much as her death. So that night, going softly into the sleeping Ranee’s room, she stole the golden necklace, and fastening it round her own neck, crept away without any one knowing what was done; and when the negress put on the necklace, Sodewa Bai’s spirit fled.
Next morning the old Rajah and Ranee went as usual to see their daughter-in-law, and knocked at the door of her room. No one answered. They knocked again and again; still no reply. They then went in, and found her lying there, cold as marble and quite dead, though she seemed very well when they had seen her before. They asked her attendants, who slept just outside her door, whether she had been ill that night, or if any one had gone into her room? But they declared they had heard no sound, and were sure no one had been near the place. In vain the Rajah and Ranee sent for the most learned doctors in the kingdom, to see if there was still any spark of life remaining; all said that the young Ranee was dead, beyond reach of hope or help.
Then the Rajah and Ranee were very much grieved, and mourned bitterly; and because they desired that, if possible, Rowjee Rajah should see his wife once again, instead of burying her underground, they placed her beneath a canopy in a beautiful tomb near a little tank, and would go daily to visit the place and look at her. Then did a wonder take place, such as had never been known throughout the land before! Sodewa Bai’s body did not decay nor the color of her face change; and a month afterward, when her husband returned home, she looked as fair and lovely as on the night on which she died. There was a fresh color in her cheeks and on her lips; she seemed to be only asleep. When poor Rowjee Rajah heard of her death he was so broken-hearted they thought he also would die. He cursed the evil fate that had obliged him to go away and deprive him of hearing her last words, or bidding her farewell, if he could not save her life; and from morning to evening he would go to her tomb, and rend the air with his passionate lamentations, and looking through the grating to where she lay calm and still under the canopy, say, before he went away, “I will take one last look at that fair face. To-morrow Death may have set his seal upon it. Oh, loveliness, too bright for earth! Oh, lost, lost wife!”
The Rajah and Ranee feared that he would die or go mad, and they tried to prevent his going to the tomb; but all was of no avail; it seemed to be the only thing he cared for in life.
Now the negress who had stolen Sodewa Bai’s necklace used to wear it all day long, but late each night, on going to bed, she would take it off and put it by till next morning, and whenever she took it off Sodewa Bai’s spirit returned to her again, and she lived till day dawned and the negress put on the necklace, when she again died. But as the tomb was far from any houses, and the old Rajah and Ranee and Rowjee Rajah only went there by day, nobody found this out. When Sodewa Bai first came to life in this way, she felt very much frightened to find herself there all alone in the dark, and thought she was in prison; but afterward she got more accustomed to it, and determined when morning came to look about the place and find her way back to the palace, and recover the necklace she found she had lost (for it would have been dangerous to go at night through the jungles that surrounded the tomb, where she could hear the wild beasts roaring all night long); but morning never came, for whenever the negress awoke and put on the golden beads Sodewa Bai died. However, each night, when the Ranee came to life, she would walk to the little tank by the tomb and drink some of the cool water, and return; but food she had none. Now, no pearls or precious stones fell from her lips, because she had no one to talk to; but each time she walked down to the tank she scattered jewels on either side of her path; and one day, when Rowjee Rajah went to the tomb, he noticed all these jewels, and thinking it very strange (though he never dreamed that his wife could come to life), determined to watch and see whence they came. But although he watched and waited long, he could not find out the cause, because all day long Sodewa Bai lay still and dead, and only came to life at night. It was just at this time, two whole months after she had been buried, and the night after the very day that Rowjee Rajah had spent in watching by the tomb, that Sodewa Bai had a little son; but directly after he was born day dawned, and the mother died. The little lonely baby began to cry, but no one was there to hear him; and, as it chanced, the Rajah did not go the tomb that day, for he thought, “All yesterday I watched by the tomb and saw nothing; instead, therefore, of going to-day, I will wait till the evening, and then see again if I cannot find out how the jewels came there.”
So at night he went to the place. When he got there he heard a faint cry from inside the tomb, but what it was he knew not; perhaps it might be a Peri or an evil spirit. As he was wondering the door opened and Sodewa Bai crossed the courtyard to the tank with a child in her arms, and as she walked showers of jewels fell on both sides of her path. Rowjee Rajah thought he must be in a dream; but when he saw the Ranee drink some water from the tank and return toward the tomb, he sprang up and hurried after her. Sodewa Bai, hearing footsteps follow her, was frightened, and running into the tomb, fastened the door. Then the Rajah knocked at it, saying, “Let me in; let me in.” She answered, “Who are you? Are you a Rakshas or a spirit?” (For she thought, “Perhaps this is some cruel creature who will kill me and the child.”) “No, no,” cried the Rajah, “I am no Rakshas, but your husband. Let me in, Sodewa Bai, if you are indeed alive.” No sooner did he name her name than Sodewa Bai knew his voice, and unbolted the door and let him in. Then, when he saw her sitting on the tomb with the baby on her lap, he fell down on his knees before her, saying, “Tell me, little wife, that this is not a dream.” “No,” she answered, “I am indeed alive, and this our child was born last night; but every day I die, for while you were away some one stole my golden necklace.”
Then for the first time Rowjee Rajah noticed that the beads were no longer round her neck. So he bade her fear nothing, for that he would assuredly recover them and return; and going back to the palace, which he reached in the early morning, he summoned before him the whole household.
Then, upon the neck of the negress, servant to the first Ranee, he saw Sodewa Bai’s missing necklace, and seizing it, ordered the guards to take the woman to prison. The negress, frightened, confessed all she had done by order of the first Ranee, and how, at her command, she had stolen the necklace. And when the Rajah learnt this he ordered that the first Ranee also should be imprisoned for life, and he and his father and mother all went together to the tomb, and placing the lost beads round Sodewa Bai’s neck, brought her and the child back in triumph with them to the palace. Then, at news of how the young Ranee had been restored to life, there was great joy throughout all that country, and many days were spent in rejoicings in honor of that happy event; and for the rest of their lives the old Rajah and Ranee, and Rowjee Rajah and Sodewa Bai, and all the family, lived in health and happiness.