‘Incarnation of Justice, the child of the unfortunate slave is dead,’ Ratnaprabha replied, with bowed head.

Dara fainted and fell back on the wooden planks of the barge. Only the quick reaction of Ratnaprabha and her attendant saved her from rolling into the water. The episode sent a shiver through the crowd. Only the Viceroy continued to sit unperturbed and silent. Turning to the priest again, he asked, ‘Brahmin, what price did you pay for this slave?’

‘Incarnation of Justice, I paid fifty gold pieces for her.’

‘Brahmin, for the crime of causing the death of this slave’s child, you will have to pay a fine of two hundred gold coins to the state treasury. The slave-girl will remain in state custody till the time that she is sold again by the state.’

Chakradhar was aghast. ‘Have mercy on a poor Brahmin, Incarnation of Justice,’ he implored. ‘It is impossible for a poor priest who ekes out a living from the performance of religious sacrifices to pay such a heavy fine in his whole life.’

‘You are guilty of murder,’ the Viceroy’s voice grew harsh. ‘According to the scriptures, a Brahmin cannot be punished with death and imprisonment. But you will pay the fine, even if you have to beg in the streets in sackcloth and ashes. However, if it is found necessary, money will be given from the state treasury for the maintenance of your family.’

And turning his eyes towards the unconscious slave-girl, he said, ‘As for this slave, for the crime of having run away from the house of her master, she shall be punished with four lashes on the back.’ The people were horrified at the severity of the sentence.

Devi Ratnaprabha’s eyes filled up with tears.

‘Keeping in mind the fact that the slave is weak and ill,’ the Viceroy said in a solemn voice, ‘she shall receive the strokes not with the whip but with a feather fan.’

Anshumala

RATNAPRABHA HAD THOUGHT THAT BY RESCUING DARA, SHE HAD picked a piece of shining glass out of the mud, but Dara turned out to be a jewel.

One evening her star pupil, Muktavali, was dancing the Peacock Dance before a gathering of visitors. Dara, with a platter of tambool in her hand, was attending to her mistress.

Without taking her eyes off Muktavali, Ratnaprabha stretched her hand towards Dara for a tambool. When none was given to her, she turned her head to see that the slave-girl was watching the dancer, her eyes following every movement and gesture in a frown of rapt attention. Amused by the slave-girl’s reaction, Ratnaprabha kept her eyes on Dara.

‘Oh, no! She missed a beat,’ Dara exclaimed suddenly, and the platter dropped from her hand.

Muktavali stopped short. The clang of the fallen platter woke Dara from her reverie. Embarrassed and frightened, she humbly apologized, both to Ratnaprabha and the dancer.

Waving aside the apologies, Ratnaprabha asked Dara to continue the Peacock Dance in the correct form. Dara, with the utmost humility, expressed her lack of ability and her ignorance of the dance, and once again begged forgiveness for her unseemly behaviour.