Benodelal, and dividing the remaining three sixteenths equally among his wife, daughter and Haralal.
When Haralal came to know what his share was in the fresh will made by his father he left the house in a huff and went off to Calcutta. From there he wrote a letter to his father, the purport of which was as follows:—
"I purpose to marry a widow. The pundits here say that widow marriage is not forbidden by the shastras. However, I know you will be dead set against my marrying a widow. But if you will let me have one-half of the property and get the will registered at once I will give up my intention, otherwise not."
His father wrote back to say that he was an unworthy son, and that he would surely cut him off with a shilling if he carried out the intention he had expressed in his letter.
A few weeks after, however, news reached Krishnakanta that he had married a widow.
The old man tore up the will again: he wanted to make a fresh one.
Within a stone's throw of Krishnakanta's house there lived a man whose name was Brahmananda Ghose. He was a harmless man, and was a sort of protege of Krishnakanta; for Krishnakanta liked him and helped him with money from time to time. Brahmananda was an excellent penman, and whenever there was a will or other document to be written he was, as a rule, asked to do it, for which he was paid something.
Krishnakanta tore up the will and sent for Brahmananda. "Come here," said he to Brahmananda, "after you have taken your meal. I want you to write a fresh will."
When Krishnakanta gave this injunction to Brahmananda Benodelal was there, and he said, "Why do you want to change the will again, father?"
"This time I want to disinherit your elder brother, and I am resolved to do it," said Krishnakanta in a serious tone of voice and looking very grave.
"Oh, that would be very cruel, father. You ought to think of his orphan child. You should not punish the innocent boy for the fault of his father."
"Well, I will give him one-sixtyfourth for his share in the property."
"Oh, that's almost nothing."
"How do you say so?" said Krishnakanta. "The income from my estate is nearly two lacs of rupees, and one-sixtyfourth or three pies' share means an income of upwards of three thousand rupees, and that's enough. I can't—I won't give more."
Benodelal tried hard to persuade his father, but the old man was firm.
CHAPTER II.
After he had eaten his meal Brahmananda was preparing to take his accustomed nap when Haralal stood before him. When he saw Haralal he was rather surprised.
"Hallo! my dear sir, you are coming from Calcutta?" he asked.
"Yes," said Haralal, sitting down on the bed near him. "I arrived two days ago; I have been hiding somewhere. Father is going to make a fresh will, eh?"
"I am told so," said Brahmananda.
"This time he is going to exclude me altogether."
"Is he? But, I don't think he is in earnest."
"I know he is," said Haralal. "You write the will of course?"
"Why, I can't refuse, you know," said Brahmananda.
"Nobody wants you to refuse," said Haralal. "But come, I want to give you something."
"What? a drubbing?" said Brahmananda with a laugh.
"Damn you," said Haralal. "I am serious. A thousand rupees. Would you like to take it?"
"Where is the fool who will not like to take it if he can get it for nothing?"
"I don't mean, for nothing," said Haralal. "If you wish to get it you will have to earn it."
"How? By marrying a widow?"
"Why, what harm is there?"
"None at all. But the thing is I am too old to marry. Don't you think I am?"
"Well, apart from jokes," said Haralal, "I want you to do something—the thing I am here for, and which is of great importance to myself. A thousand rupees is a round sum, and I will give you a chance of earning it. I know you are the fit man, or I wouldn't come to you." And he put a bundle of fresh currency notes in Brahmananda's hand. "I pay you five hundred
