Tara: A Mahratta Tale

by Meadows Taylor

  CHAPTER LXXIX.

  The ambassador's family, with whom Tara had received protection, hadarrived at Pertabgurh the day before the events related in the lastchapter. At Wye some traces of her mother's family, the Durpeys, hadbeen found, but they were now residing at or near Poona: it wouldrequire several days to communicate with them; and a much longer periodfor them, or any one of them, to come for Tara and take her away.Meanwhile, therefore, there was no resource but to stay where she was,and to endure, what was daily becoming more and more insupportable.

  Personally, Govind Rao, the Envoy, was kind to her, and continuallyrenewed his offers of assistance and protection; but from his sister,the widow Pudma Bye, Tara had to endure insult and ill-usage, fromwhich the Envoy's wife was unable to save her. Few, indeed, in thehouse, chose to risk the bitterness of Pudma's tongue, or the virulenceof her spite. Her brother even feared her, and avoided her as much aspossible.

  So she employed herself in ascetic penances and religious exercises,fasted long and often, and mortified herself in various ingenious ways,with a view to establishing a character for sanctity which should makeher famous. As might be supposed, she, the general distributor of thefamily alms, had many friends among the priestly Brahmuns, who attendedthe house and partook of her brother's charity; and it was an objectwith many, by flattering her vanity, to make those alms as large aspossible, and to induce her to undertake ceremonies which could not beperformed without priestly aid, and, necessarily, money.

  The chief of these priests was one Wittul Shastree, an elderly manof grave aspect, but with a hard expression of countenance, whichmight proceed from austerity or avarice, or both combined. He was theagent or commissary of the prince superior of the Brahmuns of theprovince, and held authority sufficient for the disposal of cases ofheretical error, misconduct as to caste affairs, and other matters ofreligious discipline. On grave occasions of ceremony he directed theseproceedings, and, in virtue of his office, was in proportion feared byall who might by any possibility come under his influence or power.

  Tara's presence in the family could not be kept a secret. The factof a widow existing there who wore silken garments and jewels, andwho had not her head shaved, was an infringement of caste disciplinewhich required prompt investigation; and as the Envoy arrived at thefort, the Shastree betook himself to Pudma Bye, as well to receive thedonations which were his due since she had been absent, as to makeinquiry.

  The Envoy himself was absent at the Rajah's Kucheri. Amba Bye was busyarranging her house after her long absence, and Tara was assistingher with an alacrity and intelligence which at once surprised andgratified her. On her own part, the worthy good-natured dame was notslow in evincing warm affection: which had arisen out of the helplesscondition of Tara on the one hand, and the loving confidence which shehad displayed on the first evening of their companionship.

  Ah! it was a cruel struggle for the poor girl. Perhaps we, who belongto another creed and faith, can hardly estimate it. And yet the springsand motives of human action have parallels so close everywhere, that wecan at least follow the events which had to be endured, alike withoutaid, and without sympathy.

  Poor Tara! could she deny herself the secret contemplation of thenoble youth who, she knew, was her lover? Could she forget the sweetcompanionship of Zyna, the rough but loving caresses of the Khan'swife, and the hearty greeting of the Khan himself? Alas, no! it wasimpossible, and yet all these were in direct antagonism with her owncreed, with the people of her own faith. What had she been taughtto believe, but that Brahmuns were the gods of the earth--divineemanations, incapable of sin, and only resting here for a while inexpiation of the errors of former births, till they were absorbed againinto divinity, as a drop of rain-water in the sea, or as the sparksfalling back into the fire!

  She herself was a Brahmun of the highest rank and caste: the veryidea of a Mussulman should have been abhorrent and repellant to her.Was it so? Alas, no! She, an orphan as she believed herself, had felther sorrow soothed, and her honour powerfully protected: she had beenreceived into loving communion with a noble family: she could not helpcontrasting their soft polished manners with the rude homely speech andrough demeanour of those with whom she now was--far ruder among thosemountains, than even among the people of her own town.

  Again, and far above all, that portion of the old old story which shehad heard and believed, when she knew herself to be beloved, would notbe forgotten. It lay at her heart, rankling sometimes and chafing,because so impossible--and again was remembered in a sweet confidencewhich, though more impossible, was yet inexpressibly soothing. "He willremember me--he now thinks of me," she would say to herself in thelonely night, when ofttimes a bitter cry was rung from her, which noone knew of; "and he would take me away if he could--ah yes! he wouldhave done it--if he could."

  From the first moment antipathy was conceived against Tara by PudmaBye, that virtuous lady had continued to brood over it with increasingdislike to her. She had tried to excite in her brother abhorrence forTara's condition; and, failing that, in Amba Bye, with whom she had aslittle success. Both believed Tara to be a priestess of the goddesswhom they feared. The Envoy had tested her knowledge of sacred books,which was nearly equal to his own, for he did not pretend, he said,to be a scholar; and in several disputations with other Brahmuns who,attracted by the news of Tara's learning, had come to hear her readand recite what she knew, she had acquitted herself with favourableimpressions upon all. But the woman's hatred of the girl's beauty, andher ascetic austerity, which would have made Tara like herself, couldnot be controlled; and, under the influence of the Shastree, was likelyto have full scope.

  But Wittul Shastree could not restrain himself; and, unable to getspeech of the master and mistress of the house, Pudma Bye was resortedto--a willing communicator of all that she herself thought, all thatshe had said and argued, and all that she had heard of Tara's sojournwith the impure Mussulmans. As for herself, she did not, she said,believe Tara's story of Moro Trimmul's outrage; she, on the contrary,believed what he said, that it was a meritorious attempt to withdrawher from a scandalous position--scandalous alike to herself and to thefaith.

  The Shastree's mind was at once made up as to his course. There hadbeen several offensive stories current in regard to young widowslately, and not without reason: and they had escaped his punishment.This at least was sure--the Envoy dare not deny, and could not evadehis power; and if Tara appealed to the Rajah himself, it would be on apoint of caste discipline with which he--Rajah though he was--would notdare to interfere.

  "Let us hear her first," he said to the lady, as, having listened toPudma Bye's account of Tara, he sat in the outer verandah of the housethe morning after their arrival, while Tara was within; "wilt thou callher, daughter? we should not judge unheard."

  Poor Tara's heart failed her sadly when Pudma called her. She clungto Amba Bye instinctively, trembling as she saw the priest sittingwithout, and protested against meeting him. "He is a stranger to me;what have I to do with him?" she said. "Let me go away. I am not his tobe questioned, but the Mother's at Tooljapoor."

  "Go," whispered Amba Bye to her; "he is all-powerful here,--over theRajah, over my husband, over all. Go, tell him the truth. I will notleave thee. Go, Tara."

  "Wilt thou now screen her, sister?" cried Pudma Bye, in a shrillvoice, and stretching out her bare skinny arms to Tara. "Is hershame to be our shame--we that have no spot or stain upon us?If thou art bewitched, I, that perform the nine penances daily,should not be exposed to this! Come, girl! it is pollution to touchthee--nevertheless, come, else I will drag thee to him."

  "Go!" cried Amba, frightened at the other's voice of threat and scorncombined, of which she had had long and sad experience in the house."I dare not keep thee now,--she is terrible. Go, Tara, and answer whatthey ask thee. Say the truth and the Mother will hear thee. O, that mylord were here! O, that he were here!" and she sat down, sobbing andwringing her hands helplessly.

  "Come," cried Pudma, as, seizing Tara by the arm, she
pulled herforward. "Art thou a child, to be ashamed,--thou that art a Moorlee?"

  Tara's limbs trembled so that she could hardly move.

  "Ah, Mother," she prayed silently, "I am not false to thee yet; let menot be tried more than I can bear. I will go, even to death, but not toshame. O Mother, not to shame! Let me go, lady," she continued to PudmaBye, "I will follow thee."

  She did so, and, bending down submissively before the priest, stood upwith her hands joined in an attitude of supplication. For a moment thestern man's features relaxed into an expression almost of kindness,certainly of extreme interest. The youth of the girl, her gentle grace,the sad but beautiful expression of her face--above all, its purity ofexpression--sent conviction to his heart that there was no room forcalumny, none even for suspicion.

  Pudma saw the hesitation, and, herself resolute, resumed rapidly andpassionately--

  "Is that a figure to be a widow and a priestess--that thing with agolden zone, and necklaces and ear-rings, and a silken garment like aharlot? Is that a widow who daily combs her hair, braids it, puts sweetflowers and oils into it, decking it for a lover? O Shastree, is thatwhat a virtuous widow should be? Is that a condition of penance andaustere privation whereby to inherit life eternal?"

  The Shastree's features changed rapidly. "It cannot be," he said; "suchadornment and beauty is not of a virtuous woman. Now I believe thee,sister, and thy brother must be spoken to. He cannot keep a thing sooffensive in his house, and be among us."

  "Hear me, my lord," said Tara, appealing to him piteously. "I ampure--I have done no evil--I am an orphan and a Moorlee, but not asothers; such as I am, the holy Bhartee Swami, whom I have servedhitherto, hath made me. Write to him if you will----"

  "What is this?" said Govind Rao, who entered at the moment,interrupting her; "what art thou asking of her, friend? Let her alone;she is my care."

  "Look," returned the other, rising, "if thou art satisfied to have onelike that remaining in thy house, the Swami must know of it, and therewill be a fine, and shame will come to thee among the council. If shebe a widow, let her be treated as widows should be. If----"

  "If I am a Moorlee of the goddess, as ye call me," said Tara,interposing, "I am already shameless in your eyes, and no widow: let mego. No Moorlee is asked what she does, or what she wears. The Motherwill not have those near her who are disfigured, and I cannot break thevow I have made to her; she would destroy me."

  Panting and excited, flushed with the desperation of her speech, Tarastood erect, with her eyes flashing, her glowing beauty exciting theinvoluntary admiration of the men, and the virulent hatred of the womanwho sat with them.

  "See, brother!" cried Pudma Bye, "look at the witch--look at herglowing eyes. It was by these shameless eyes that she won men's heartsat Tooljapoor. Beware! beware of yourselves, lest ye too fall! Ah!"she continued with a scream, "put her away--kill her; but let her notgo--Brahmun as she is--to the cow-slayers!"

  "Peace," said her brother; "why this spite, Pudma? what hath she doneto thee? Peace, and begone to the inner rooms. Begone!" he cried in alouder tone, and stamping his foot, "begone! Dost thou not hear?"

  "I hear," she replied doggedly; "but I will not go, unless the Shastreebid me. Choose now between us: send me out of thy house to thy shame,and keep her, to thy worse shame; or send her away. There can be nocompromise between good and evil, shame and dishonour."

  "She speaks truly, friend," said the Shastree mildly. "It must be done.How do we know she is a priestess?"

  Tara had not entirely lost the presence of mind which she naturallypossessed, though she found it failing rapidly. "Put me to the proof,"she said quickly,--"the proof. If there be a temple of the Mother'shere, let me sit in it before her a night and a day--haply she may cometo her child, as she did at Tooljapoor. Ye can watch me too, there.If she come not--then she hath abandoned me, and ye can kill me if yeplease, sirs; better ye did so, for I am indeed friendless."

  "Not so," cried the widow; "thou hast friends, Tara, many andpowerful--myself the greatest of all; but--not as thou art. Choose!"

  "I have chosen, lady," said the girl sadly. "Take me to the templenow--even now,--and leave me there. A vessel of water is enough, anda woman to watch me at night, if ye will not watch yourselves. I havealready eaten, and want no food. I would go to the Mother."

  "It is some device, brother," said Pudma suspiciously; "some device tofly, to escape, or----"

  He smiled and shook his head. "It requires a braver heart than agirl's to face the mountain-paths alone at night among the bears andthe panthers, sister, and nought but a bird could escape down theprecipices. Why these unjust suspicions? Art thou ready, Tara? Ifso, follow me, and thou too, Shastree; we will settle this matter atonce. There is no one now in the Rajah's temple. He has already paidhis devotions, and is preparing to meet the Khan. Come, the ordinarypriests are there, and there is no fear of her. Come, Tara, fear not.If thou art true, the Mother will defend thee. Dost thou trust her,girl?"

  "Take me to her," she replied. "I have no refuge but with her. I amready." Then she turned to embrace Amba Bye, who now entered sobbing,and fell upon her neck.

  "I will come to thee by-and-by," she whispered. "It is but a step, andI will watch with thee at night. I have a vow to pay to the Mother. Gowith my husband."

  We know the place already. It was where Sivaji's mother had sat. A fewwords to the attendant priest by Govind Rao and the Shastree, explainedthe ordeal to which Tara had voluntarily subjected herself, and she waspermitted to approach the shrine and make her obeisance and offerings.They watched her, and saw that she did her office as one used to theduty; and when it was finished, she went before the shrine, sat down,and began to chant the morning hymn of the goddess in low and sweettones, rocking herself to and fro.

  "There can be no doubt of this, Shastree," said Govind Rao,--"she iswhat she tells us."

  "She may be," he replied, "but till the goddess comes into her andspeaks by her mouth, she may not be fully believed. Let us leave her,"and they went.

  Tara grew absorbed in her devotion: she noticed no one. By-and-by agun was fired from a tower near her, and four others followed. Thena pause ensued, and the priest fed the lamps with fresh oil, tinkledthe bell on the shrine, and poured libations to the image, renewingthese ceremonies with much earnestness. Tara scarcely noticed them,for though it was broad noonday without, it was dusk within the closedvestibule. By-and-by a girl, bearing a tray of lighted lamps, andgarlands of flowers, entered, but so that her face could not be seen,and, delivering some to the priest, began a ceremony herself, which wasstrangely familiar; and as Tara turned her head for an instant, she sawthat it was Gunga, and that she herself was recognized.

  Gunga clapped her hands with joy. "At last," she cried excitedly, "atlast! See, I am worshipping for the victory which he has gained by thistime. Hush! thou wilt see Zyna here presently. Moro will bring hercaptive; then there will be three with him--I, and thou, and she. Ha,ha, ha! a merry three, girl. Dost thou hear, O Tara?" But some strangechill had struck at Tara's heart, and, sinking down on the floor, for atime she was insensible.