Chapter Thirty

When Gajapati Vidyadiggaj was ushered into the chamber by the servant, the prince inquired, "You are a Brahmin?"

The Diggaj, with an elaborate wave of his hand, responded:

"While the gods abide upon Mount Meru and the Ganges flows upon the earth, in this world devoid of all worth, the house of one's father-in-law is the only thing of substance."

Jagatsingh suppressed his amusement and offered a respectful salutation. Gajapati bestowed his blessing: "May Allah preserve Babuji Khan in good health."

The prince said, "Sir, I am not a Mussulman — I am a Hindu."

The Diggaj thought to himself: "The rascal is a Yavana trying to deceive me; he has some scheme in mind — why else would he summon me?" And with a downcast countenance born of fear he said, "Khan Babuji, I know you; I live by your bread — do not say anything against me, I am the slave of your honoured feet."

Jagatsingh saw that this too was an obstacle. He said, "Sir, you are a Brahmin; I am a Rajput — pray do not speak thus. Your name is Gajapati Vidyadiggaj?"

The Diggaj thought: "There now! He knows my name! What calamity will he bring upon me?" With folded hands he said, "I call upon the Shekh-ji's mercy! I am a poor man! I fall at your feet!"

"Art thou become a madman?"

"No, Babu! I am your very own servant, Babu! Your very own, Babu!"

Jagatsingh, finding no alternative, said, in order to set the Brahmin at his ease, "Thou hast nothing to fear. Read me a little from thy Manikpir's rosary — I will listen."

The Brahmin took up the Manikpir's rosary and began to read it aloud in a chanting voice. The condition of the learned Diggaj was precisely that of a boy-actor in a jatra performance who sings after having had his ear well twisted by the manager.

After a little while the prince inquired again, "Why were you, a Brahmin, reciting the rosary of Manikpir?"

The Brahmin stopped his chanting and said, "I have become a Mussulman."

The prince said, "How so?" Gajapati replied, "When the Mussulman gentlemen came to the fort, they said to me: 'Come, Brahmin, we shall destroy thy caste.' So saying, they took hold of me and fed me a pulao cooked with fowl."

"What is pulao?"

The Diggaj replied, "Cooked rice prepared with clarified butter."

The prince understood what the substance of the matter was. He said, "Go on."

"After that they told me: 'Thou hast become a Mussulman' — and from that day forth I have been a Mussulman."

The prince took this opportunity to ask, "And what has become of the rest?"

"Many another Brahmin has likewise been made a Mussulman in the same fashion."

The prince turned his gaze towards Osman. Osman, understanding the silent reproach, said, "Prince, what is the harm in this? In the Mussulman's reckoning, the faith of Mahomed is the true faith; and in our view there is no sin — but rather merit — in spreading the true faith, whether by force or by stratagem."

The prince made no reply, but turned to question the Vidyadiggaj further. "Vidyadiggaj sahib —"

"By your leave, it is now Sheikh Diggaj."

"Very well then; Sheikh-ji, do you know the fate of any others from the fort?"

Osman, perceiving the prince's purpose, became uneasy. The Diggaj said, "Abhiram Swami has made his escape."

The prince understood that unless he questioned the simpleton directly and plainly, he would hear nothing of use. He said, "What has become of Birendrasingh?"

The Brahmin replied, "Nawab Katlu Khan has put him to the sword."

The prince's face flushed crimson. He turned to Osman and demanded, "Is that so? Is this Brahmin speaking falsehood?"

Osman said gravely, "The Nawab tried him as a rebel against the sovereign authority and ordered his execution."

A fierce light blazed in the prince's eyes.

He asked Osman, "May I venture one further question? Was this done with your concurrence?"

Osman replied, "It was done contrary to my counsel."

The prince remained silent for a long while. Osman, seizing the moment, said to the Diggaj, "You may take your leave now."

The Diggaj rose to depart; the prince caught him by the hand and detained him, saying, "One more question — where is Bimala?"

The Brahmin heaved a sigh, and shed a few tears. He said, "Bimala is now the Nawab's concubine."

The prince turned upon Osman with eyes like lightning. "Is this also true?"

Osman made no answer, but said to the Brahmin, "What more dost thou here? Be gone."

The prince gripped the Brahmin's hand yet more firmly, so that the man could not stir. He said, "Stay one moment more — only one word more." From his reddened eyes a fiercer fire than before was flashing. "One more thing. Tilottama?"

The Brahmin answered, "Tilottama has become the Nawab's concubine. She and her attendants are kept in comfort."

The prince flung the Brahmin's hand from him with sudden violence; the Brahmin all but fell.

Osman said, with shame, and in a quiet voice, "I am but the commander of his forces."

The prince replied, "Thou art the commander of a fiend's forces."