"And what is that, my Lord?"
"To kneel in the temple and renounce our religion. Do we that, and we
are free to leave Allaha."
Pundita smiled. "My Lord is not capable of so vile an act."
"No."
And hand in hand they stood before the catafalque forgetting everything
but the perfect understanding between them.
"Ai, ai!"
It was but a murmur; and the two turned to witness the approach of the
woman of the zenana. She flung herself down before the catafalque,
passionately kissing the shroud. She leaned back and beat her breast
and wailed. Ramabai was vastly puzzled over this demonstration. That
a handsome young woman should wail over the corpse of an old man who
had never been anything to her might have an interpretation far removed
from sorrow. Always in sympathy, however, with those bowed with grief,
Ramabai stooped and attempted to raise her.
She shrank from his touch, looked up and for the first time seemed to
be aware of his presence. Like a bubble under water, that which had
been striving for utterance came to the surface. She snatched one of
Ramabai's hands.
"Ai, ai! I am wretched. Lord, wretched! There is hot lead in my
heart and poison in my brain! I will confess, confess!"
Ramabai and Pundita gazed at each other, astonished.
"What is it? What do you wish to confess?" cried Ramabai quickly.
"Perhaps . . ."
She clung to his hand. "They will order my death by the silken cord.
I am afraid. Krishna fend for me!"
"What do you know?"
"His majesty was murdered!" she whispered.
"I know that," replied Ramabai. "But who murdered him? Who built that
cage in the palanquin? Who put the tiger there? Who beat and
overpowered the real bearers and confiscated their turbans? Speak,
girl; and if you can prove these things, there will be no silken cord."
"But who will believe a poor woman of the zenana?"
"I will."
"But you can not save men from the cord. They have taken away your
power."
"And you shall give it back to me!"
"I?"
"Even so. Come with me now, to the temple."
"The temple?"
"Aye; where all the soldiers are, the priests . . . and Durga Ram!"
"Ai, ai! Durga Ram; it was he! And I helped him, thus: I secured
permission to go into the bazaars. There an assault took place under
the command of Durga Ram, and my bearers were made prisoners. Durga
Ram, disguised as a bearer, himself freed the tiger which killed the
king. Yes! To the temple! She who confesses in the temple, her
person is sacred. It is the law, the law! I had forgot! To the
temple, my Lord!"
Before the high tribunal of priests, before the unhappy Kathlyn, before
the astonished Umballa, appeared Ramabai and Pundita, between them the
young woman of the zenana, now almost dead with terror.