The night of the Amáwas, or that which immediately precedes the new
moon, is necessarily the darkest of every month, and for several days
previous to it the sky had been overcast, as it frequently is at the
season we write of, though without rain. The ceremonies in the temple
would be protracted till, according to the astronomical calculations,
the old moon had passed away and the new one begun, which was some time
after midnight. The concourse in the town was perhaps greater than
usual. Several of the Mahratta chiefs were still there, each with a
complement of followers; and others who lived within a day's journey,
were arriving one by one, to attend the last series of recitations
which would be given until the next full moon. It was understood, also,
that this was the last night on which Moro Trimmul would officiate;
and his picturesque style of declamation was more attractive than the
measured and monotonous manner of the elder Pundits.
By the afternoon, therefore, the main bazar of Tooljapoor had become
a very lively scene. The number of people already in the town was
increased hourly by the arrival of visitors from the populous villages
round about, and even from Darasew, Thair, Baimlee, and others within
a day's ride; and as evening drew in, the passes leading to the town
from below, and the roads, too, from the level country above, still
showed parties,--some on horses, some on ponies, on foot, or on
oxen,--pressing forward to be in time for the opening ceremonies, which
would commence as the lamps were lighted.
Sweetmeat-sellers--parched rice--and chenna friers, were driving
a brisk trade in the bazars, and their booths were crowded with
customers receiving their several quantities hot and hot, as they could
be prepared. The night would be far advanced ere the whole of the
ceremonies were concluded, and, once seated, no one could move. Many
a careful dame, therefore, had tied up a bundle of sweet cakes before
she left home and carried them on her arm;--others, with less foresight
perhaps, were making provision for the night at the stalls we have
mentioned:--while flower-sellers were threading garlands of jessamine
and môtea blossoms, and, indeed, of many wild flowers, from fields and
hedges, in lack of other materials. Sellers of Pân leaves, tobacco and
betel-nut--incense-sticks and pastiles--and oil for the lights of the
shrine--were all as busy as a throng of eager purchasers could make
them.
Among this crowd, the Shastree, with Anunda, Radha, and Tara, were
making their way to the temple before the assembly should render the
courts impassable. With the Shastree, who was walking before the women,
was Moro Trimmul, who had dined at his house, and who was now on his
way with him to the recitation. Chimna, two days before, had reported
to Radha that her brother was about to leave. He had, the man said,
purchased a palankeen and hired a set of bearers for it, and others had
been sent on the road to Sattara, so as to form relays for a night's
journey: and, except himself, and one or two who were to be mounted,
the other servants were to follow. Indeed, intimation of his intended
departure had been made that day privately to the Shastree and to his
sister by Moro himself.
He was afraid of staying, he said. Afzool Khan had arrived at Nuldroog;
the force there was about to march to Sholapoor, and thence westward.
If he preceded it, he could travel unnoticed, otherwise it would be
impossible to move at all in its rear, or to pass it without making
a considerable and inconvenient detour. As danger threatened the
Maharaja, he must be present to share it; and he would return as soon
as the storm, which was about to burst, had blown over.
It was no more than all had expected and some had hoped for. So long
as her brother's presence was a source of no actual uneasiness to
Radha, she was thankful to see him, although she feared a renewal of
his threats to her as regarded Tara; but since her last interview with
him, she had been possessed with a dread which beset her night and
day, either that he would do something desperate, as regarded Tara, or
that, in revenge for her not having assisted his licentious purpose, he
would put his threat, as regarded herself,--whatever it might be,--in
execution.
His proposed departure was, therefore, a positive relief, and, in
making the communication to her, Moro Trimmul had carefully acted his
part. He deplored the recent scene and his own violence. "Tara's love,"
he said, "was hopeless as it was criminal; and he thanked his sister
for having saved his honour in regard to that misplaced affection.
Girls who married could not always keep their relatives with them:
better indeed it were so, and in her case particularly; for no doubt he
had enemies, and were he denounced to Afzool Khan, he should have some
difficulty in escaping."
Could any one have doubted all this, or suspected that any sinister
motive lay below it? Impossible! It was the literal truth in most
respects, and open to no breath of suspicion.
To Anunda, and especially to Tara, the event was one of positive
rejoicing. The good matron had, as we have seen, no objection to Moro
Trimmul until Tara's suspicion had been aroused; and, secure in the
effect of her own precautions, she had become utterly indifferent
whether he remained or not. But with Tara it was otherwise; his
presence was the only check on her enjoyment of daily life. Were he
gone for good, her services, her household love, would be freed from
the incubus which had deadened her existence while he remained, and
she would be saved from any apprehension for the future. On all these
considerations, therefore, the female members of the Shastree's family
descended to the temple that night, with joyful and thankful hearts.
We know, however, partly what Moro Trimmul had determined upon, and
how he had proposed to execute it. So far as she was concerned, the
girl Gunga had never faltered in her plan. The only stipulation
she made with Moro Trimmul was, that she should accompany him,--an
arrangement to which he was very unwilling to consent. On this point,
however, he found her utterly unrelenting. When she saw his desire
to be rid of her, she declared that she would not only retire from
the affair altogether, but would denounce him to the Shastree and to
every Brahmun in Tooljapoor. She defied his threats; and he knew, by
previous experience, that no words could turn her from any purpose
which she had in view, and without her co-operation the execution of
the plan was quite impossible. What she proposed to do he knew not, she
would not tell him; but he had provided a stout horse for her which,
with his servants and the litter, were to wait in the ravine below
the temple. He did not fear pursuit. The Shastree kept no horse. He
could not obtain the services of any horsemen from the authorities at
night. Who would care for the ravings of a Brahmun, whose daughter, a
priestess of the temple, had eloped, as it would be considered, with
her lover? True, Anunda might revenge herself on Radha,--but to that,
the Shastree, for his own honour, would hardly consent.
So they descended the steps into the lower court of the temple
together; and while Tara, her mother, and the Shastree entered the
vestibule to make their salutation to the goddess, Moro Trimmul excused
himself on pretence of bringing his books, and went round to the back
of the shrine, where, near the wishing-stone,[12] he found Gunga and
several of the priestesses sitting idly on the basement, basking, as
it were, in the evening sun then setting. We have said it had been a
gloomy day, even now the heavens were overcast: but towards the horizon
the clouds were open, and a bright gleam of red light had broken
through them and fell upon the temple and sides of the glen in striking
brilliancy; while the rich dresses of the girls, and their heavy gold
and silver ornaments, glistened and sparkled in the glowing colour.
Gunga had apparently been giving some description of her new gold
anklets; for, as Moro Trimmul turned the corner, she had slid down from
her seat, and was moving her feet as to produce a faint clashing sound.
"One need not even put on the bells with these," she cried to her
friends, "listen how well they will sound to the music, and I shall
dance to-night as the processions move round."
As she spoke, the girl swayed round several times, half circling one
way, then another, tossing her arms in the air in time with the steps
in which she was moving her feet. There was something in the lithe
grace of her figure which struck Moro Trimmul as a new charm, and he
stopped to watch it for a few moments ere he was noticed. Perhaps the
thought she was not observed, perhaps the certainty that she should
that night triumph over her rival, had excited Gunga more than usual;
for she had thrown into her movements a spirit and beauty,--a majesty
of motion,--as it might be called, which was inexpressibly attractive.
"If thou dance like that to-night," cried one of the girls, "thou wilt
win back that lover of thine, Gunga. If he were mine I should not
quarrel with him. Ah!" she screamed, "there he is: what if he has heard
me!" and, sliding hastily from their seats, she, with the rest of her
companions, fled round the corner of the building.
Gunga did not move, but covered her face with the end of her garment.
"If I had known----" she said.
"Thou wouldst not have danced so well," he returned, interrupting her.
"By Krishna! girl, not even the Gopîs of Muttra danced more lovingly
before him than thou didst then in those few turns. Dance like that
to-night, and I shall not be able to resist thee."
"It would be a pity to turn thee from Tara now," she said, with scorn,
"so I shall not dance at all. Art thou ready?"
"Yes; I have taken leave of them, and prepared everything," he replied.
"Chimna will bring the horses and litter into the ravine, and wait near
the steps for us. Thou hast the key?"
"Look," she cried, crossing to the door, which was only a few steps
distant, and partly opening it, "it is already open, and the key is
here in my bodice. We can lock it outside, and throw the key into the
bushes. When I beckon to thee, come, for I will entice her here; but if
thy heart then fail thee, Moro Pundit, beware----"
He had need in truth to do so; but there was no occasion for threats,
they did but provoke him. "Enough," he said, "we must not be seen
together here. I will not fail thee."
FOOTNOTE:
[12] A large stone placed on the rear basement of the temple. Votaries
are directed to place a hand on each side of it, and make a wish. If it
turns to the right, the wish will be granted; if to the left, otherwise.