Driven to bay, I finally told them straight out that I had promised myself to thee—of whom they had already heard from Satagira—and that no power on earth could force me to break my word, which had been sacredly given to thee, or to belong to another. And I added that, if the worst should come to the worst, I would kill myself by persistently refusing all nourishment.
As my parents now saw that I was quite capable of carrying out this threat, they finally, although much put out and very angry, gave the matter up, and Satagira also now seemed to yield to his fate, and to be taking pains to comfort himself for his defeat in the courts of love, by becoming the hero of victorious deeds on a sterner field of battle.
About this time report had many horrible tales to tell of the robber Angulimala who, with his band, had laid waste whole districts, burnt villages, and made the roads so unsafe that at last almost no one ventured to travel to Kosambi. I became a prey, as a consequence, to horrible fears, for I naturally dreaded that thou mightst at last be coming to me and be unfortunate enough to fall into his robber hands by the way. Things stood thus when it became suddenly known that Satagira had received the supreme command of a large body of troops with which to sweep the whole neighbourhood of Kosambi, and, if possible, capture Angulimala himself, as well as the other chief leaders of the band. He had, so the story ran, sworn to accomplish this or to fall fighting in the attempt.
Little as I was otherwise disposed to feel kindly towards the son of the minister, I could not this time refrain from wishing him the best of success, and, when he moved out, my earnest wishes for his prosperity followed his colours.
About a week later I was in the garden with Medini, when we heard loud cries from the street. Medini rushed thither at once to learn what had happened, and presently announced that Satagira was returning in triumph to the city, having either cut down the robbers or taken them prisoner; and that the horrible Angulimala himself had fallen into his hands alive. She invited me to go out with her and Somadatta to the street, to witness the entry of the soldiers with the captive robbers, but I did not wish Satagira to have the satisfaction of seeing me among the spectators of his triumph. So I stayed behind alone, more than happy at the thought that the roads were now again open to my beloved. For so little do mortals understand of the workings of fate that they sometimes, as I did then, greet as a specially fortunate day just that one on which the current of their lives takes a turn for the worse.
On the following morning my father entered my room. He handed me a crystal chain with a tiger-eye as amulet, and asked me if I, by any possibility, recognised it.
I felt as though I should drop, but I summoned up all my strength and answered that the chain resembled one which thou hadst always worn round thy neck.
“It isn’t like it,” said my father, with brutal calmness, “it is it. When Angulimala was made prisoner he was wearing the chain, and Satagira at once recognised it. For, as he related to me, he had once wrestled with Kamanita in the park for your ball, and, in the course of the struggle, had seized Kamanita’s chain in order to hold the latter back. The chain parted and remained in Satagira’s hands, so that he was able to examine it minutely. He was convinced that he couldn’t be deceived. And then Angulimala, closely questioned, confessed that in the region of the Vedisa, he had, two years ago, attacked Kamanita’s caravan on its return journey to Ujjeni, had cut down his people, and had taken Kamanita, with a servant, prisoner. The servant he sent to Ujjeni for ransom. As this, for some reason, was not forthcoming, he had, according to robber usage, put Kamanita to death.”
At these frightful words I should certainly have lost consciousness, had not a possibility presented itself to my despairing mind of hoping against hope.
“Satagira is a base and a crafty fellow,” I answered, with apparent calm, “who would stop at no fraud; and he has set his heart, or rather his pride, upon gaining me for his wife. If he, at the time you speak of, examined the chain so attentively, what was to hinder him from having one made like it? I imagine that this idea occurred to him when he first heard of Angulimala. If he had not taken Angulimala himself prisoner, he could always say that the chain had been found in possession of the robbers, and that they had confessed to having killed Kamanita.”
“That is hardly possible, my daughter,” said my
