SLEEP will never come when fear and anxiety have entered the
mind. Thakchacha was exceedingly uncomfortable in the lock-up:
he had thrown himself on a blanket, and was tossing restlessly
from side to side: now and again he got up to see what hour of
the night it was. Whenever he heard the sound of carriage-wheels,
or a voice, he imagined it must be daybreak: he kept getting
up in a hurry, and saying to the sepoy guard: "Friends, how far
advanced is the night?" They were very angry, and said to him:
"Ho, you there! the gun will not be fired for two or three hours
yet! Keep quiet now; why do you keep on disturbing us like this
every hour?" Thakchacha, at these words, began to toss about on
his blanket again. Conflicting emotions rose in his mind, and he
revolved a variety of plans: his reflections continually taking
this turn;-- "Why have I been so long conversant with craft and
trickery? Where is now the money that I have earned in this way? I
have nothing left of all my sinful gains. The only result, so far
as I can see, is that I got no sleep at night for fear of being
detected in some crime or other. I lived in constant terror: if
the leaves of a tree only shook, I imagined some one was coming
to apprehend me. How often did my sister-in-law's husband,
Khoda Buksh, warn me against all this trickery and craft! His
words to me were: 'It would be much better for you if you would
get your living by agriculture or trade or service: you can come
to no harm so long as you walk in the straight path: by such a
course you will keep body and mind alike in sound health.' And
Khoda Buksh, because he does himself walk thus, is happy. Alas
I why did I not listen to his words? How shall I find a release
from this present calamity? Unless I can secure a pleader or a
barrister, I shall never succeed in doing so. But if there is
no evidence against me, I cannot possibly be punished. How will
they find out where the forgery was committed, or who committed
it?" He was still revolving all these thoughts in his mind when
the day began to break, and then from sheer weariness he fell
asleep. Soon however he began to dream about his many misfortunes,
and to talk in his sleep. "Ah Bahulya! take care that no one
gets a glimpse of the pencil, the pen and the other instruments:
they are all in the tank in the house at Sialdah: they will be
quite safe there: be very careful now not to take them out again,
and get off yourself as soon as you can to Faridpore; I will meet
you there, when I have been set free."
It was now morning, and the rays of the sun fell through the
venetians full on Thakchacha's beard. The _jemadar_ of the
lock-up had been standing near Thakchacha, and had heard all he
said. He now shouted: "Ho, you old rascal! what! have you been
asleep all this time? Get up, you have revealed all your secrets
yourself." Thakchacha got up in a great flurry, and rubbing his
eyes, his nose, and his beard with his hand, commenced repeating
his prayers: and again, he looked at the _jemadar_ with eyes
half-open, and then closed again. The _jemadar_ frowned, and said:
"You are a fine hypocrite, you are! sitting there with a whole
sack of virtue! Well, well! your virtue will be fully manifest
when we have taken the instruments out of the tank at Sialdah." At
these words Thakchacha trembled all over like a plantain leaf,
and said: "Ah, sir! I have a heavy fever on me; hence the lies
I told in my sleep." "Well," replied the _jemadar_, "we shall soon
know the meaning of all you have said: get ready at once." With
these words, he departed.
As soon as it struck ten, the officers of the court took Thakchacha
and the other accused into court. Bancharam had been walking up
and down the police court with Mr. Butler, long before nine. He
was thinking -- "If we can only get Thakchacha off this time,
we may still secure a good deal of business through his agency:
he is an extremely useful person in many ways, through his
power of talking people over, and his special knowledge and
experience in every kind of business, legal or otherwise; but I
have always for myself acted, on the principle;-- 'No rupees,
no investigation' I cannot, as the saying is, 'drive away the
wild buffalo at my own expense;' and again, as another saying has
it, 'I have sat down to dance, why then a veil?' Why conceal my
sentiments? Besides, Thakchacha has bled a good many people, what
harm then in bleeding him? But a good deal of skill is necessary
to get the flesh of a crow[59] to eat, and it will not be easy to
make anything out of so wary an individual as Thakchacha." Mr.
Butler, seeing Bancharam so absent-minded, asked him what he was
anxious about. Bancharam replied: "Ah, dear Saheb, I am thinking
how to get money to enter my house!" Mr. Butler, who had moved
away a little distance, exclaimed: "A capital idea, capital."
As soon as he saw Thakchacha, Bancharam ran up to him, and
catching hold of his hands said to him, with tears in his eyes:
"Ah, what a misfortune this is! I sat up the whole of last night
in consequence of the bad news; not once did I close my eyes,
and after I had in a fashion performed my religious duties, I
slipped away before daylight, and brought the Saheb with me. But
why be afraid? Am I a mere child that you cannot trust me? A
man's life has many vicissitudes: moreover, it is the big tree[60]
that the storm strikes! But no investigation can be made, and
nothing done, unless money is forthcoming: I have none with me:
but if you would have some of your wife's heavy ornaments fetched,
business can proceed: only get off scot-free this time, and you
will get plenty of jewelry afterwards." It is very hard for a man
who has fallen into any misfortune to deliberate calmly. Thakchacha
at once wrote off a letter to his wife. Bancharam took the letter
and with a wink and a smile at Mr. Butler handed it to a messenger,
saying: "Run with all speed to Vaidyabati, get some heavy ornaments
from Thakchacha's wife, and return here or to the office in the
twinkling of an eye; and look you, be very careful how you bring
the ornaments! Look sharp, be off like a shot." The messenger
testily replied: "It is easier said than done, sir! I have to get
out of Calcutta first, then I have to get to Vaidyabati and then
find Thakchacha's wife. I shall have to wander and stumble about
in the dark, and besides, I have not yet had my bath, let alone
a morsel of food: how can I possibly get back to-day?" Bancharam
lost his temper and abused the man, saying: "The lower orders are
all alike: each acts as he thinks proper: courtesy is wasted upon
them: there is no hurrying them up without kicks and blows! People
can go as far as Delhi when they have an object in view: cannot
you then go as far as Vaidyabati, do your business, and come back
again? You know the proverb: 'A hint is sufficient for a wise man:'
now I have actually had to poke my finger into your eye, and yet
you have not had wit enough to see." The messenger hung his head
down, and without saying a word in reply, went slowly off like a
jaded horse, muttering as he went: "What have poor persons to do
with respect or disrespect? I most put up with it in order to live,
but when will the day arrive when the Babu will fall into the same
snare as Thakchacha? I know that he has ruined hundreds of people
and hundreds of homes, and hundreds he has rendered houseless and
destitute. Ah indeed, I have seen a good many attorneys' agents,
but never a match for this man! See the sort he is! a man who can
swear black is white, a man who can compass anything he likes by
his trickery and craft, and yet all the time keeps up his daily
religious duties, his Dol Jatra and his Durga Pujah, his alms to
the Brahmans and his devotions to his guardian deity! Bad luck
to such Hinduism as his, the unmitigated scoundrel!"
Meanwhile Thakchacha, Bancharam and Mr. Butler had all taken
their seats: the case had not yet been called on, and their
impatience only increased with the delay. Just as it struck
five o'clock, Thakchacha was placed before the magistrate, and
soon saw that the instruments wherewith he had committed the
forgery had been brought into court from the tank at Sialdah,
and that some villagers from that quarter were also present in
court. After examination into the case, the magistrate passed
these orders:-- "The case must be sent up to the High Court:
the prisoner cannot be admitted to bail: he must be imprisoned in
the Presidency Jail." As soon as these orders had been passed,
Bancharam ran up quickly, and shaking the prisoner by the hand,
said: "What cause for alarm is there? You don't take me for a
child that you cannot trust me? I knew all along that the case
would go up to the High Court: that is just what we want."
Thakchacha's face looked all at once pinched and withered from
anxiety. The constable seized him by the arms, dragged him roughly
down, and sent him off to the jail[61]. Thakchacha proceeded along,
his fetters clanging as he went, and his throat parched, without
so much as lifting up his eyes, for fear of seeing somebody who
might recognise and jeer at him.
It was evening when Thakchacha first put his foot into that
'House of Beauty,' -- the Presidency Jail. All those who are in
for debt or civil cases are imprisoned on one side, those who
are in on criminal charges on the other; and after trial they
may have either to work out a fixed sentence there, or grind
_soorkey_ in the mill-house, or else chains and fetters may be
their lot. Thakchacha had to remain on the criminal side of
the jail. As soon as he entered, the prisoners all surrounded
him. Thakchacha looked closely at them, but could not recognise
a single acquaintance amongst them. The prisoners exclaimed: "Ah,
Munshi Ji! what are you staring at? You are in the same plight as
we are: come then, let us associate together." Thakchacha replied:
"Ah, gentlemen I have fallen into unmerited trouble! I have taken
nothing from any man: I have touched nothing belonging to any man:
it is but a turn of the wheel of fortune." One or two of the old
offenders said: "Ha! And is that really so? A good many people
get overwhelmed by false charges." One rough fellow said harshly:
"Are we to suppose then that the charge against you is false,
while those against ourselves are true? Ha! what a virtuous
and eloquent man has come amongst us! Be careful, my brothers;
this bearded fellow is a very cunning sort of individual."
Thakchacha at once became more modest, and began to depreciate
himself, but they were long engaged in a wrangle on the subject:
any trifling matter will serve when people have nothing else to
do, as a peg whereon to hang an argument.
The jail had been shut for the night: the prisoners had had their
food and were preparing, to lie down to sleep. Thakchacha was
just on the point of seizing this opportunity to throw into his
mouth some sweetmeats he had brought with him tied up in his
waistcloth, when suddenly two of the prisoners, low fellows,
with whiskers, hair and eyebrows all white, came up behind him
and snatched away the vessel containing the sweetmeats, laughing
loudly and harshly the while. They just showed them to the
others, then tossed them into their mouths, and demolished them,
coming close up to Thakchacha as they ate, and jeering at him.
Thakchacha remained perfectly dumb, and keeping the insult to
himself, got quietly on to his sleeping mat, and lay down.