Chapter V.
IT was night. Hills rose above hills in sullen, silent majesty, piercing the skies. The silver light of the moon fell over all, enhancing the loveliness and solitude of the scene. The fairy veil was brightest over the vast wilderness of peaks as they rose behind one another, dazzling the eye like so many snow-clad mountains. There was a unique grandeur about it all. Nearer, the shimmering light covered in sombre glory the thickly foliaged plants, the mighty forests below, and the wooded sides of the hills, that hid with a soft feathery veil the deep caverns and the dark repulsive ravines. The waters from the neighbouring hills and mountains, sparkling in the light of the moon, like molten silver, dashed down the ravines with a roar, to get lost in the densely wooded valleys below. In the midst of this scene was a table-land containing a few mutts, the abodes of religious recluses, who went thither from time to time for prayer and meditation. On this particular night two men were seen on this table-land engaged in earnest conversation. One of these was Kamala’s father. The tall thin figure, the peculiar bend of head and walk, and the absent look on the face were unmistakably those of Narayen, the sanyasi, the man who lived in himself and in his dreams. What was it that led him to spend half his life in these weird mountain solitudes? What was it that he found so congenial to his cultivated mind in this life of meditation? What was his early history? And why was he unlike other recluses that he did not care for money and gifts offered to him? The person with him was no other than the unexpected young friend who visited Narayen on the eve of Kamala’s betrothal.
“Ramchander,” said Narayen, “I am sorry for you and for myself. But it is too late, and you will promise me not to see Kamala now. The secret, I hope, is safe in your possession. Happiness does not depend on riches, and I expect my Kamala to be happy as she is. I know from my own experience that when I left the world I was happy till the envious gods and Yama, the enemy of life, deprived me of my wife. Oh! how I should like to have had you as my son, but the fates were against it. I seem to have lost everything with that one great wrench. Kamala alone is left, but I dare not see her, for I should long to have her with me again and she must do without me. Strange that I should find you on the eve of her betrothal. Say, can I rely on you for everything?”
“You may,” said the young man, with evident emotion. “I leave Sivagunga to-morrow, but I have left those behind who will watch over your daughter and let you know everything even in these mountain solitudes. May you find the happiness that has eluded you so long. I am off.” The young man’s face indicated sadness and great disappointment.
* * * * *
The town of Rampur, where Ganesh, Kamala’s husband, had gone for study, was not far from Sivagunga. It had an important institution and students from all parts resorted thither for their e