On her return home, Tara being still asleep, Radha could not conceal
from Anunda the agitation which the scene with her brother had caused
her. As she reached the inner apartments, she threw herself upon
Anunda's neck, and the terror she felt at what she considered a narrow
escape from death, found relief in a flood of tears. The particulars
of that scene she dared not fully relate: but Anunda gathered enough
from her to believe that Moro Trimmul had threatened, if not struck his
sister, and that Tara's suspicions were but too deeply founded.
If Anunda had not felt assured of Tara's purity and devotion to the
worship of the goddess, in its spiritual sense only, she would have
prevented, at all hazards perhaps, her assumption of service as a
devotee. It was, she knew, one of the trials to which the girl would be
subject so long as her beauty remained, that her public avocation would
expose her to the gaze of all classes of people--the most persistent
and dangerous libertines, perhaps, being priests of her own sect. But
the act of Tara's profession of service was so sudden, so unlooked for,
and had been carried out so immediately, that there was no time to
consider the consequences.
Now, too, it was impossible to recede. Once she had vowed herself to
the dread goddess she dared not retract, nor could any attempt be made,
as they believed, to withdraw her without danger. Many instances of
such partial service and relinquishment of it, capricious or meditated,
had come to her knowledge, which had been followed by sudden death, or,
what was worse, loss of reason and raving madness.
Well, therefore, might the sister-wives tremble at the consequences
of transgression, even by temporary withdrawal of Tara's service. It
was the first thing that Radha counselled; but, under the instances of
punishment which she enumerated, Anunda declared it to be impossible.
She could not--dare not--expose Tara to such risk, nor herself be the
means of it; and, indeed, she was assured that Tara would never agree.
Gradually, however, Anunda's naturally cheerful and sanguine spirit
took courage.
"We cannot prevent men's eyes wandering to that sweet face," she said
to Radha, as she gently waved a fan over Tara, who still slept heavily,
"no more than I can prevent them looking at me if they like, or thee,
Radha; but we can protect her from insult and shame, and she is too
pure to be approached or spoken to. No; he may look as he pleases, but
he dare not speak to her: for thy sake, for the sake of his own honour
and station as a priest, he dare not; and his looks she shall not
fear--I will prevent them."
"Nevertheless," replied Radha, "let her not visit the temple for
several days to come, or, if she goes, we will both accompany her. This
will give her fresh assurance, and in a few days he will be gone."
Radha, however, knew her brother well--better than Anunda. She knew
that, with any scheme against Tara in view, no matter what it might
be, she was incapable of watching him so completely as to defeat his
intentions; but she could at least be wary, and gain information of
them, and a small purse of money with which Anunda supplied her, given
to Chimna, gained her constant information of her brother's movements,
such as she could not otherwise have obtained.
Moro Trimmul, however, to all appearance ceased to pursue Tara. For
several days she did not visit the temple. She herself feared collision
with him, and kept away. But gradually, a sense of neglect of her daily
duty, the loss of the satisfaction which had resulted from it, and the
dread of offending the terrible Being in whose exacting service she
believed,--wrought on her mind so as to render inaction intolerable.
And no wonder now. Her own small household tasks, which had previously
occupied her leisure hours, had been resigned to Radha; the temple
service required her presence for the greater part of the morning
and afternoon; and her studies, and some needful rest, absorbed the
remainder of the day. Now that she remained idle at home, therefore,
the time hung heavy on her hands, and she sighed for the occupation
and excitement which had become habitual to her; while the yearning
to serve "the Mother"--never to be absent from her--grew stronger and
stronger day by day, with a fascination she could not resist. Day by
day those weird, glowing, eerie eyes seemed to follow her about, seek
her in her sleep, and by turns threaten or entreat her.
"Mother," she said at last, and after a few days had passed in restless
idleness at home, "I feel that my life here is not what it was. The
Mother's eyes follow me, and she sits at my heart day and night. Why
dost thou not come to me, Tara? she says; fear not, but come; no one
dare harm thee, and I would have thee near me. This she whispers daily
when my time of service comes, and I am here and not with her. O
mother, I fear no longer; she gives me strength, and I will go. What
can he do to me? The dread of him is gone from me."
"We will go with thee, daughter," replied Anunda, "and remain with thee
daily. Before us, he dare neither look nor speak; and perhaps, too, thy
suspicions were misplaced."
"Perhaps," she replied; "and why should he do me wrong? I should be
sorry if I had thought ill of him without a cause."
So they went. The first day Moro Trimmul was not there. On the second
they met him, and received his distant and courteous salutation. He did
not even come to speak to his sister, and turned away directly. Gunga
was present on both occasions; and on the first day Tara was surprised,
and perhaps somewhat gratified, by the manner in which she and some of
her sisterhood met her; offered her garlands of flowers, even put them
into her hands, and tied them like bracelets round her arms, and into
her hair.
"You have been ill, sister," said Gunga, deferentially and
respectfully, "and we have done your work, and offered flowers for
your recovery to the Mother. Ah," she continued, "because we are poor,
and not as you are, Tara, do not look coldly upon us; have we not one
common Mother, and are we not sisters in her? So think of us, and we
will be your slaves and fellow-servants; for she has loved you more
than us, and sent you pure among us. We know, too, you are already
changed to us, for we have received the daily offerings as you have
kindly directed."
Poor Tara, there was no guile in her loving heart which bred or
fostered suspicion. What could she think but that those callous minds
had relented towards her? and perhaps the very offerings, which
she had thoughtlessly made over to the attendant priests, had been
the original cause of all their apparent enmity. Day after day the
Moorlees' respect seemed to increase; and while her work was rendered
lighter, her repugnance to acknowledge them as co-servitors seemed to
lessen. With all indeed, except Gunga, the respect was sincere, and
the deference unfeigned; but with her, intercourse seemed only to fan
the flame of revenge burning at her heart: and while she repressed it
with difficulty in public, in private she yielded to it with all the
unbridled rancour and jealousy of her nature.
Against Tara, therefore, these evil notions were now, for different
reasons, in perpetual and active combination. It was no part of Moro
Trimmul's plan to excite further suspicion. Brooding over fancied
neglects and slights, as well as revenge for hopelessness of passion,
had, as Gunga rightly guessed, mastered the softer feeling of
admiration and love for the gentle object of them; and the desire of
his life now was, to crush relentlessly and deface the purity which he
could not appreciate. His sister, he believed, had kept his counsel,
for she had made no further remonstrance; and the first occasion on
which Tara came with her father only, and trusted herself to the
companionship of the priestesses, was hailed by Gunga and the Brahmun
as conducive to their success.
We can believe that the worthy Shastree himself was utterly unconscious
of any element of disturbance in his quiet household. He was perfectly
satisfied with his new wife, and was even growing to love her dearly.
He was not demonstrative--very learned and studious men rarely are
so, perhaps; but Radha studied his disposition and his wants, and,
without interfering with Anunda's prerogatives, was supplying them
unobtrusively and lovingly; and he felt what he could not fail to
appreciate--the action of another tender hand about his daily life.
With Moro Trimmul he continued on the best of terms--nay, his love
and admiration of the man was much increased. These recitations in
the temple, the disputations on logic and law, the evident knowledge
which Moro possessed of the more secret rites and mysteries of the
Shasters and Tantras, increased the Shastree's respect. If Moro Trimmul
would not come to the house as often as he wished, he was at least no
stranger in the temple, and in the ceremonies now proceeding, he was of
the greatest possible use. He now frequently spoke of his approaching
departure, which only depended upon letters he should receive from his
Prince; and it was an event which, on every account of private and
public intercourse, Vyas Shastree was disposed to regret exceedingly.