Krishna Kanta's Will (Chatterjee, Knight)/Part 1/Chapter 4
CHAPTER IV.
THAT evening at eight o'clock Krishna Kanta Râi was sitting on his bed in his sleeping chamber, a pillow supporting his back, pulling at his hukâ, and gently nodding over that one physic of the world, that best among intoxicants—the fumes of opium. As he thus nodded, in fancy he saw his will suddenly become a mortgage deed put up to sale. Hara Lâl had bought his entire estate for three rupees, thirteen annas, and two and two-thirds of a cowry. Then he thought that some one told him the will was not a deed of gift but a bond. Instantly it flashed across his mind that Vishnu, son of Brahma, the king of the gods, had come to Mahâdeva and, borrowing a canister of opium from him, had executed this bond, giving him a mortgage on the universe. Mahâdeva, under the stupefying influence of gânjâ, had forgotten to foreclose the mortgage. Just then Rohini came gently into the room and said, "Thâkur Dâdâ! what, sleeping?"
Krishna Kanta, still nodding, replied, "Who is that? Nandi?[1] Tell your master to foreclose at once."
Rohini saw that Krishna Kanta was in one of his frequent bouts of opium-smoking. She laughed and said, "Who is Nandi? Thâkur Dâdâ."
Krishna Kanta, without raising his head, replied, "It is quite correct what I said. He (Nandi) has eaten up the milkmaid's butter at Brindâban, and has not paid yet."
Rohini burst out laughing, which startled Krishna Kanta. Raising his head, he looked at her and said, "Who is that? Aswini, Bharani, Krittikâ, Rohini?"[2]
Rohini. "Mrigashirâ, Ârdrâ, Punarbâsu, Pujyâ."
Krishna. "Asleshâ, Maghâ, Purbaphalguni."
Rohini. "Thâkur Dâdâ have I come to learn astronomy from you?"
Krishna. "Then what do you want? Some opium?"
Rohini. "Is it likely I've come for that? Why, you would sooner part with life than opium. Uncle sent me, that's why I have come."
Krishna. "What for? Opium?"
Rohini. "No, Thâkur Dâdâ, no. I don't want your splendid opium. My uncle says that the will that was written to-day has not your signature."
Krishna. "What's that? I remember perfectly that I did sign it."
Rohini. "No, uncle says that he remembers that you did not sign it. Well, why should we remain in doubt? Why don't you open it out and see?"
Krishna. "Certainly; hold a light then while I look." Thus saying, from beneath his pillow, Krishna Kanta took a key. Rohini held a light that was standing near. Krishna Kanta first opened a small despatch box, and out of it took a special key with which he opened a drawer, and, after some search, took out the recently made will. Then, he took his spectacles from the box and tried to fix them on his nose, but in the process the opium fumes repeatedly made him nod, so he was long about it. Finally, the spectacles duly fixed, Krishna Kanta glanced at the will, and, laughing, said, "Rohini, you think I am old and wandering? See! there is my signature."
Rohini. "Heaven forbid! You are not old. You are obliged to call us your grand-children, but that counts for nothing. Well, I'm off. I'll go and tell uncle."
In the dead of night Krishna Kanta's sleep was suddenly broken in upon. Waking, he perceived there was no light in his room. He always kept a light burning through the night, but now he saw it was extinguished. At the same time a sound entered his ear as though some one were turning a key; also it seemed as if some one were stepping about the room. The person came to the head of his bed, put a hand under his pillow. Krishna Kanta was heavy with opium. He was neither asleep nor awake, and so could not quite comprehend anything. He was not quite sure that there was no light in the room. Now half asleep—now half awake—even awake — his eyes would not open. When he did manage once to open his eyes, the darkness did indeed strike him, but Krishna Kanta then fancied himself in gaol for giving false evidence in Hari Ghosh's lawsuit. The gaol was very dark. After awhile, suddenly, a sound as of the turning of a key fell gently on his ear. "What!" thought he, "has the key of the gaol dropped down?" Instantly he roused himself, felt about for the tube of his hukâ, but could not find it. From habit he called out "Hari!"
Krishna Kanta did not sleep in the inner apartments, nor in the outer rooms. He had a room between the two, and slept there. There also slept his Khânsâmâ, a man named Hari. No one else. It was to this attendant Krishna Kanta was speaking when he called out "Hari!"
He called to him a second time, and then, still heavy with opium, he dozed off. At this time the genuine will vanished from his room. The counterfeit will had been substituted for it.
- ↑ The name of Mahâdeva's attendant. Krishna Kanta is still rambling in thought in the realms of mythological fancy.
- ↑ In his half-stupefied condition he arrives at Rohini's name only by the mental process of running through the names of the lunar mansions, Rohini being one of them. Rohini, humouring him, goes on with the list, which is taken up again by Krishna Kanta.