Dara trembled from head to foot, and clutching at Ratnaprabha’s arm with both her hands, said between sobs, ‘Noble lady, save me! Save me from this butcher priest! He will kill my child. He will kill me. Lady, I shall become a prostitute and pay back the Brahmin’s debt. I know the art of dancing. I beg you, noble lady. Slavery is unbearable …’

Chakradhar was still protesting and demanding that the girl should be returned to him. Suddenly, above the tumult on the river and its bank, rose the piercing sound of the state trumpet. A hushed silence fell on all sides. ‘Attention, citizens!’ a crier proclaimed, ‘His Excellency the Viceroy, the Protector of the People, the Defender of the Faith, the Valiant Ravi Sharma is arriving!’

The boats withdrew to make way for the Viceroy’s barge. A boat with a golden canopy, manned by sixteen rowers, swept up and stopped near Devi Ratnaprabha’s boat. The people on the bank and in the boats bowed again and again to hail the Viceroy. Reclining against a milk-white cushion, under the golden canopy, Ravi Sharma smilingly acknowledged Ratnaprabha’s greetings and asked after her health and well-being.

The herald, wearing a red turban and standing in the bow of the Viceroy’s boat, announced, ‘His Excellency the Viceroy, the Protector of the People, the Defender of the Faith, has been gracious enough to come here, noticing some restlessness among the people. His Excellency commands that whosoever has been the victim of any wrong or injustice should, without fear, appeal for justice before His Excellency.’

The Brahmin standing on the riverbank bowed, joined his palms and said imploringly, ‘Your Excellency, I, Chakradhar, priest and performer of yajnas, son of Varundhar, swear by Lord Indra, and most humbly submit that his slave girl from Kashmir, Dara by name, at present in the boat of Devi Ratnaprabha, is my lawful slave, bought by me with the offerings earned from the sacrificial fires. The slave-girl ignored her duties and ran away from my house. I pray Your Excellency to order the slave to be restored to me.’

Devi Ratnaprabha stood up in the boat and with bowed head, said, ‘Your Excellency, I, Ratnaprabha of Shursen, Laureate of Art, pray that I may be permitted to pay the price of this oppressed slave to the Brahmin and buy her from him.’

‘Nobody’s property can be acquired forcibly just by paying its price,’ said the Viceroy, turning towards Ratnaprabha. ‘In the court of law, the rich and poor are alike.’

‘Long live His Excellency, the Incarnation of Justice!’ shouted the priest, raising his arms and blessing the Viceroy. ‘This slave-woman is wet nurse to my child. My wife is ill. Protector of Brahmins, order the slave to be returned to me so that the child of your humble servant may live. This slave woman is the chief support of a Brahmin child.’

Devi Ratnaprabha again joined her hands and said, ‘Your Excellency, I am prepared to pay the necessary amount of money for the purchase of another wet nurse for the Brahmin child.’