Chapter Eighteen

Bhabananda was seated within the monastery, chanting the praises of Hari. At that hour there came unto him, with downcast countenance, a Child of great spirit named Jnanananda. Bhabananda said, "Gosain, wherefore so heavy a brow?"

Jnanananda said, "Some trouble I apprehend. By reason of yesterday's affair, the shaven ones are spying out every ochre robe and laying hands upon the wearers. The other Children have today every one cast off their saffron raiment. Only Satyananda the Master, alone and clad in ochre, hath gone toward the city. Who can tell — what if he fall into the hands of the Mussulmans?"

Bhabananda answered, "There liveth not in Bengal that Mussulman who can hold him captive. Dhirananda hath followed him, that I know. Yet will I once go round the city. Do thou guard the monastery."

So saying, Bhabananda went into a secluded chamber, and from a great chest brought forth divers garments. On a sudden the form of Bhabananda was transformed: in place of the ochre robe he wore tight-fitting pyjamas, a jerkin, a long coat, an amama upon his head, and nagra shoes upon his feet. From his brow he wiped away the tripundra and other marks of sandal-paste. His fair countenance, adorned with mustachios and beard black as the bee, was of wondrous beauty. Beholding him thus, one would have taken him for a young man of the Mogul race.

Bhabananda, accoutred as a Mogul and bearing arms, issued from the monastery. About a krosa thence stood two very low hills, whereon a jungle had grown up. Between these two hills was a hidden place, wherein many horses were kept. There was the stable of the men of the monastery. Bhabananda loosed one of the steeds, and mounting upon its back, sped toward the city.

As he went, of a sudden his progress was stayed. There, upon the bank of the murmuring stream, like a star fallen from heaven, like the lightning broken from the cloud, lay a bright form of woman. He saw there was no sign of life — an empty phial of poison lay beside her. Bhabananda was amazed, distressed, and afraid. Like Jibananda, Bhabananda also had never seen Mahendra's wife and daughter. The reasons which had led Jibananda to suspect that this might be Mahendra's wife and daughter — these reasons were wanting unto Bhabananda.

He had not seen the Brahmachari and Mahendra borne off in captivity, nor was the daughter there. Beholding the phial, he understood that some woman had taken poison and died. Bhabananda sat down beside the corpse, and resting cheek upon hand, pondered long. He felt her head, her armpits, her hands, her feet; he made trial of many things unknown to common men. Then he said within himself: "There is yet time, but what shall I gain by restoring her?" Long did Bhabananda thus deliberate; and at length, having pondered, he went into the wood and plucked certain leaves from a tree.

Crushing the leaves in his palm and drawing out their juice, he forced apart her lips and teeth and with his finger placed somewhat within her mouth; thereafter he dropped a little of the juice within her nostrils, and anointed her body therewith. Again and again did he repeat this, and ever and anon he laid his hand near her nose to feel whether the breath still flowed. It seemed that his pains were all in vain. After he had so striven for a great while, Bhabananda's face grew somewhat cheerful — he felt upon his finger a faint stir of breath.

Then he poured more of the juice; and by degrees the breath flowed stronger. Laying his hand upon the pulse, Bhabananda found that the pulse beat anew. At last, little by little, as the first flush of dawn breaketh upon the eastern sky, as the morning lotus first openeth its petals, as the first stirring of love is felt within the breast, so did Kalyani open her eyes. Beholding this, Bhabananda lifted the half-living body upon the back of his horse, and putting the horse to full speed went on into the city.