I said nothing. I was not in a condition to protest or to correct anybody. I walked as one dazed or hypnotized, in absolute silence.
After a few minutes Ratan asked, 'Did you see anything to-night, sir?'
'No,' I answered.
This curt reply evidently perplexed Ratan, and he asked, 'Are you angry with us, sir, because we came? If you had only seen her weep—'
'No,' I said hurriedly, 'no, Ratan, I am not angry in the least.'
When we reached our encampment, the watchman went away, and Ganesh and Chhattulal went to the servants' tent. Ratan said to me, 'Mother[1] has requested you to see her before you go.'
I paused. I seemed to see Piari plainly, sitting in the lamplight, anxiously waiting for me, with tears in her eyes. My whole soul rushed madly to meet her.
'Come, sir,' said Ratan with respectful entreaty. I closed my eyes for an instant to steady myself. I realized that I was not in a normal frame of mind. All my faculties had suddenly become intoxicated as with some exquisite wine. Could I, with this ecstasy in my heart, visit her tent at such an hour? No, I could not.
'Why are you standing there in the darkness, sir? asked Ratan, perplexed at my indecision. 'Please come this way.'
'No, Ratan,' I said hurriedly, 'not now: I am going.'
- ↑ 'Mother': this is how a servant often speaks of his mistress.
117
