The Biter Bitten.
Babu Chandra Mohan Bai, or Chandra Babu, as he was usually called,
was a rich banker with many obsequious customers. He was a short
choleric man, very fond of his hookah, without which he was rarely
seen in public. He had no family, except a wife who served him
uncomplainingly, and never received a letter or was known to write
one except in the course of business. His birthplace, nay his caste,
were mysteries. But wealth conceals every defect, and no one troubled
to inquire into Chandra Babu's antecedents. This much was known--that
he had come to Kadampur fifteen years before my tale opens with a brass
drinking-pot and blanket, and obtained a humbly-paid office as a clerk
under a local Zemindar. In this capacity he made such good use of the
means it offered of extorting money that he was able to set up as a
moneylender at Simulgachi, close to Kadampur. When people learnt that
a new Shylock was at their service, they flocked to him in times of
stress. His usual rate of interest being only 5 per cent, per mensem,
he cut into the business of other moneylenders, and in four or five
years had no serious competitor within a radius of four miles from
Kadampur itself. Once master of the situation he drew in his horns,
lending money only to people who could give ample security in land,
government papers, or jewellery. He also started a tejárati business
(loans of rice, for seed and maintenance during the "slack" months,
repaid in kind, with heavy interest, after the harvest). Although few
Khátaks (customers) were able to extricate their property from his
clutches or clear off their debit balances, Chandra Babu continued to
be in great request. He was heard to boast that every family in or near
Kadampur, except the Basus, were on his books. The rapid growth of his
dealings compelled him to engage a gomastha (manager) in the person
of Santi Priya Dás, who had been a village schoolmaster notorious for
cruelty. The duties of his new office were entirely to Santi Priya's
liking, and he performed them to Chandra Babu's unqualified approval.
On a certain morning in late August, Chandra Babu sat in his office to
receive applications for money or grain. One of his customers named
Karim Sheikh came in and squatted close to the door, after salaming
profoundly. On seeing him Chandra Babu at once remembered that
his bond had run out on 15th July, and that he owed nearly Rs. 100,
principal and interest. He therefore addressed the newcomer in accents
of wrath. "What do you want here, you son of a pig?"
"Babuji," pleaded Karim, "my stars are unlucky. You know how wretched
the rice harvest has been."
"Yes, we know all that," replied Santi, who sat near his master. "It's
the old story, when people who can pay won't pay. Have you brought
the money, eh?"
Karim was obliged to confess he had not.
"Then why have you come here?" roared Chandra Babu. "To show your
face, I suppose. We see hundreds of better-looking fellows than you
daily. You have got to pay up at once, you badmásh (rascal)."
Karim's wrath was stirred by this expression. He replied, "Now, Babu,
don't be abusive; I won't stand it".
"What, do you want to teach me manners, Maulvie Saheb (doctor learned
in Mohammadan law)?" asked Chandra Babu sarcastically.
An exchange of compliments followed which were not altogether to
Shylock's advantage, and at length he roared, "Get out of this office,
you rascal, and look out for squalls! I'll sell you up!" Karim left
in high dudgeon, inviting Chandra Babu to do his worst, and the latter
forthwith concocted a scheme of vengeance with his manager.
Next day Santi obtained a summons against Karim from the Munsiff
(civil judge of first instance) of Ghoria and, by bribing the court
process-server, induced him to make a false return of service. In
due course the suit came on for hearing, and as the defendant was of
course absent, it was decreed against him ex parte. Execution being
also granted, Santi accompanied the court bailiff to Karim's house,
where they seized all his movable property and carried it off to the
Court, leaving him in bewilderment and tears. He was unable to tear
himself away from his gutted home but sat for hours under a tree hard
by, pondering on his ill-fortune. Not until the sun had set and village
cattle began to file in from pasture, did he cast one lingering look
on the scene of his childhood and walk away with a sigh, whither no
one cared to inquire.
A week later, however, Karim strode into Chandra Babu's office
attended by two friends, and counted out ten ten-rupee notes, which
he handed to the moneylender, with a peremptory request to release
his chattels at once. Chandra Babu was greatly surprised by the turn
matters had taken, but he was not the man to let property slip from
his clutches. So he asked Santi whether the debtor did not owe a bill
of costs. The manager referred to his books and declared that Rs. 33
8. 0. were still due. Karim planked down the money without further
ado and asked for a receipt, which Santi reluctantly gave him. Then
he again demanded the immediate release of his property. On receiving
an evasive answer, he remarked that Chandra Babu would hear from him
shortly and left the office.
About a month later, Chandra Babu was aroused from sleep in the
dead of night by shouts coming from his inner courtyard. He jumped
up and popped his head out of the window, but withdrew it hastily
on seeing twenty or thirty men running about his premises, with
lighted torches, and shouting--"Loot! loot!" Paralysed by fear, he
crawled under the bed and lay in breathless expectation of further
developments. Presently the door was forced open, and a crowd poured
into the room. Chandra Babu's hiding place was soon discovered by
the dacoits (gang robbers), who dragged him out by the legs and
demanded his keys on pain of instant death. Seeing a rusty talwár
(sword) flourished within an inch of his throat, the unhappy man at
once produced them, whereon the dacoits opened his safe and took out
several bags of rupees. Then at a signal from their sardar (leader),
they bound Chandra Babu hand and foot and squatted round him in a
circle. The sardar thus addressed him:--
"Babuji, do you know us?"
"How can I know you?" groaned their victim. "Your faces are blackened
and concealed by your turbans. Gentlemen, I implore you to spare my
life! I never injured any of you."
"Indeed!" replied the sardar sarcastically; "you have been the ruin
of us all. Look you, Chandra Babu, we are all Khátaks (customers)
of yours whom you have fleeced by levying exorbitant interest on
loans and falsifying our accounts. It's no use going to law for our
rights; you are hand in glove with the civil court amla (clerks) and
peons (menials) and can get them to do whatever you wish. So we have
determined to take the law into our own hands. We have made up our
accounts and find that you have extorted from us Rs. 5,000, over and
above advances of rice and cash with reasonable interest. Now we're
going to help ourselves to that sum, besides damages at four annas
in the rupee (twenty-five per cent.). This makes just Rs. 6,250 you
owe us."
Thereon the dacoits counted out cash to that amount and no more,
which was placed in bags containing Rs. 1,000 each, ready for
removal. Chandra Babu heaved a sigh of relief, thinking that he had
got off rather cheaply, but his troubles were not at an end. The
sardar came close to him and asked:--
"Look at me carefully: do you know me?"
"No bábá, but you are my son. Pray, spare my life! See, I am half
dead already and ruined as well!"
"I am Karim Sheikh," said the sardar impressively.
"So you are," replied Chandra Babu, after recovering from his intense
surprise; "but why have you turned dacoit?"
"It was owing to your oppression, which drove me from my house, and
deprived me of the means of livelihood. All my companions here have
been beggared by you, and scores of other families too. The whole
of Kadampur and Simulgachi are clamouring for your blood, and Allah
has appointed me to be the minister of his vengeance. Time was when
I had to cringe to you, just as you are doing to me, but never did I
receive mercy from you. Now the tables are turned. I might kill you,
and who would dare to inform the police folk?" (Here Karim made a
vicious prod with his talwár, which passed within half an inch of
the terror-stricken victim's throat.) "I might put you out of caste
by slaying one of your cows and forcing you to eat its flesh. You
deserve all this and more--but we will be merciful. Swear by your
goddesses Kali and Durga that you will never in future demand more
than four annas in the rupee yearly for loans of money or rice. Swear
that you will never again bribe the amla or peons of the Courts;
swear that you will never again falsify the accounts of your Khátaks."
Chandra Babu took the oaths demanded with an appearance of unction
and then implored his captors to release him.
"Wait a minute," was Karim's reply, "we must collect our belongings."
So saying he ordered the dacoits to extinguish their torches and
follow him with the bags of money. He led them to a ravine on the
river bank, about a coss (two miles) distant, where the spoil was
equitably divided according to a list of names and amounts due
in Karim's possession. Then after arranging for alibis in case of
criminal proceedings, the band dispersed, well satisfied with their
night's work.
Chandra Babu's neighbours made no sign until the dacoits were well
out of hearing, when they flocked in to unloose his bonds and offer
hypocritical condolences. The village Chaukidar (watchman) was sent
off to the police station, and next day arrived the Sub-Inspector with
a posse of constables to investigate the dacoity. After recording
the complainant's statement, they endeavoured to secure additional
evidence, but Chandra Babu was so cordially disliked, and the dacoits'
vengeance so dreaded, that not a soul came forward to corroborate
his story. Karim was arrested, with half a dozen accomplices named
by Chandra Babu. They had no difficulty in proving that they were
attending a wedding ceremony five miles away on the night of the
alleged dacoity. So the case was reported to headquarters as false;
and Chandra Babu escaped prosecution for deceiving the police, by
giving a heavy bribe to the Sub-Inspector.
His evil star continued in the ascendant. About a week afterwards,
he discovered a heavy deficit in his cash book, kept by Santi Priya,
which that rascal failed to explain, and next day the trusty manager
did not attend office. Indeed he has never been heard of since. This
new calamity was Chandra Babu's "last straw". He hastened to realise
outstanding debts and left the village, bag and baggage, to the intense
relief of its inhabitants, who celebrated his exit by offering pujá
or namáz (Mohammadan prayers) according to the religion they severally
professed.