Krishnakanta's Will (Chatterjee, Roy)/Part 1/Chapter 4
CHAPTER IV.
At about eight o'clock that night Krishnakanta Roy was reclining on a luxurious couch in his bedroom, smoking a curly pipe with a golden mouthpiece, and dozing under the influence of his favourite intoxicating drug, opium, of which he usually took a large quantity. He was in a drowsy state, between sleeping and waking, and dreaming of odd and strange things. He dreamed that Haralal had bought the whole of his property at a nominal price of Rs. 50. Again it seemed to him that he had lost all his goods and money and landed property, and was worse off than a man in the street. At another time he thought that somebody had stealthily entered the room with the intention of filching his opium, which he always kept safely locked up in his chest of drawers. While he was in the midst of one of such dreams, Rohini entered the chamber very softly. "You are sleeping, grandpa?" she said, approaching the bed with a cautious tread. Rohini called him grandpa and loved to cut jokes with him.
"Who are you? Nundy?" said Krishnakanta. "When did you leave the hills? Where is your master?"
"Who do you mean, grandpa?" asked Rohini.
"Who do I mean? I mean your master—your master, the chief of the gods, whose abode is among the snow-capped mountains. What a noodle you are, Nundy!"
"Why do you want him?" again asked Rohini.
"Tell your master I cannot lend him the money he wants except on good security. Do you understand?"
"Oh, are you dreaming, grandpa?"
This roused Krishnakanta from his dream. "Who are you? Rohini?" he asked, watching her narrowly from under his half-closed eyelids. "You look charming to-night, lassie. I am not so old as you think. Have you any objection to me?"
"None at all," said Rohini with a laugh.
"Oh, so glad. What do you want? Come for opium, I suppose?"
"What have I to do with opium?" she laughed. "But I know you can't spare any of your opium. It is more precious to you than gold and silver."
"Then what are you here for?" said Krishnakanta.
"Uncle says that he thinks you forgot to put your signature to the will."
"How is that? I am sure I didn't."
"How am I to know? He says it was an oversight, and that is why he has sent me to you."
"It is very strange. I well remember I put my signature, and I think there can be no mistake about it."
"What's the good of talking?" said Rohini. "Had you not better look at the will to make sure?"
"Well, then take that light there," said Krishnakanta to her. And he rose and took a key from underneath the pillow on which he had been resting his head, and opened a little fancy box with it. Out of it he took a curious key and opened a drawer while Rohini was holding the light; and having groped for a while drew out the will with a rather shaky hand. Then from another box he took out his spectacles, and having fixed them on his nose with some difficulty, for he felt a little drowsy at the time, looked for his signature in the will.
"Here you are," he exclaimed. "Here is my signature, Rohini. I think I am not too old to remember anything."
"Certainly you are not," said Rohini with a smile. "But I will go now and tell it to my uncle." With this she left him and was quickly gone. *** It was midnight, and Krishnakanta was fast asleep in his bed. Suddenly he awoke and thought he found the room was dark. Usually a lamp burnt all night in his room; and he seemed to wonder why there was no light. Presently he thought he heard a sound of the turning of a key. It even seemed to him that somebody was moving in the room, and that he came and gently handled the pillow on which he was resting his head. But he was so deeply under the influence of opium that he could apprehend nothing clearly. He was not quite sure there was no light in the room, for he was so drowsy that he could hardly open his eyes. When he opened them for a moment he thought the room was dark; but he imagined that he was in jail. Presently it seemed to him that he heard a creaking sound, and he thought it was the warder locking up the cell. After a little time he woke up again. He felt for his pipe, but could not find it. "Here, Hari," he called for the servant who slept near his master's bedroom at night.
Krishnakanta slept in a room half way between the inner and the outer part of his house. He called and dropped off into sleep again. Within this short space of time his will was removed, and a false will was substituted in its place.
(To be continued)
Translated by
D. C. Roy