'What's this, child, you're not going anywhere, are you?'
'Of course, I'm going to Sitarampur.'
'What do you mean? Who is going to take you?'
'Anath.'
'Not to-day, my child, some other day.'
'But the compartment has already been reserved.'
'What does that matter? That loss can easily be borne. Go to-morrow,
early in the morning.'
'Mashi, I don't hold by your inauspicious days. What harm if I do go
to-day?'
'Jotin wants to have a talk with you.'
'All right! there's still some time. I'll just go and see him.'
'But you mustn't say that you are going.'
'Very well, I won't tell him, but I shan't be able to stay long.
To-morrow is my sister's _annaprashan_, and I must go to-day.'
'Oh, my child! I beg you to listen to me this once. Quiet your mind
for a while and sit by him. Don't let him see your hurry.'
'What can I do? The train won't wait for me. Anath will be back in
ten minutes. I can sit by him till then.'
'No, that won't do. I shall never let you go to him in that frame of
mind.... Oh, you wretch! the man you are torturing is soon to leave
this world; but I warn you, you will remember this day till the end
of your days! That there is a God! that there is a God! you will some
day understand!'
'Mashi, you mustn't curse me like that.'
'Oh, my darling boy! my darling! why do you go on living longer? There
is no end to this sin, yet I cannot check it!'
* * * * *
Mashi after delaying a little returned to the sick-room, hoping by
that time Jotin would be asleep. But Jotin moved in his bed when she
entered. Mashi exclaimed:
'Just look what she has done!'
'What's happened? Hasn't Mani come? Why have you been so long, Mashi?'
'I found her weeping bitterly because she had allowed the milk for
your soup to get burnt! I tried to console her, saying, "Why, there's
more milk to be had!" But that she could be so careless about the
preparation of _your_ soup made her wild. With great trouble I managed
to pacify her and put her to bed. So I haven't brought her to-day. Let
her sleep it off.'
Though Jotin was pained when Mani didn't come, yet he felt a certain
amount of relief. He had half feared that Mani's bodily presence
would do violence to his heart's image of her. Such things had
happened before in his life. And the gladness of the idea that Mani
was miserable at burning _his_ milk filled his heart to overflowing.
'Mashi!'
'What is it, Baba?'
'I feel quite certain that my days are drawing to a close. But I have
no regrets. Don't grieve for me.'
'No, dear, I won't grieve. I don't believe that only life is good and
not death.'
'Mashi, I tell you truly that death seems sweet.'
Jotin, gazing at the dark sky, felt that it was Mani herself who
was coming to him in Death's guise. She had immortal youth and the
stars were flowers of blessing, showered upon her dark tresses by
the hand of the World-Mother. It seemed as if once more he had his
first sight of his bride under the veil of darkness.[4] The immense
night became filled with the loving gaze of Mani's dark eyes. Mani,
the bride of this house, the little girl, became transformed into a
world-image,--her throne on the altar of the stars at the confluence
of life and death. Jotin said to himself with clasped hands: 'At
last the veil is raised, the covering is rent in this deep darkness.
Ah, beautiful one! how often have you wrung my heart, but no longer
shall you forsake me!'
[4] The bride and the bridegroom see each other's face for the first
time at the marriage ceremony under a veil thrown over their heads.