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Updated: June 5, 2025


I forgive him." But Anukul's magisterial conscience would not allow him. "No," he said, "he cannot be forgiven for what he has done." Raicharan bowed to the ground, and clasped Anukul's feet. "Master," he cried, "let me stay. It was not I who did it. It was God." Anukul's conscience was worse stricken than ever, when Raicharan tried to put the blame on God's shoulders.

On his way he picked up a small stick, and leant over the bank of the stream pretending to fish. The mischievous fairies of the river with their mysterious voices seemed inviting him into their play-house. Raicharan had plucked a handful of flowers from the tree, and was carrying them back in the end of his cloth, with his face wreathed in smiles.

Artukul tried to reason his wife out of this wholly unjust suspicion: "Why on earth," he said, "should he commit such a crime as that?" The mother only replied: "The baby had gold ornaments on his body. Who knows?" It was impossible to reason with her after that. Raicharan went back to his own village.

The little Master could not cast off the spell of his Chan-na, and therefore he had been reborn in his own house. There was no sign lacking which marked out the future judge. Then suddenly Raicharan remembered that terrible accusation of the mother. "Ah," he said to himself with amazement, "the mother's heart was right. She knew I had stolen her child."

Nevertheless the magistrate in him asked: "Have you any proofs?" Raicharan said: "How could there be any proof of such a deed? God alone knows that I stole your boy, and no one else in the world." When Anukul saw how eagerly his wife was clinging to the boy, he realised the futility of asking for proofs. It would be wiser to believe.

Raicharan took no notice of this, but folded his hands, and said: "It was not the Padma that stole your baby. It was I." Anukul exclaimed: "Great God! Eh! What! Where is he?" Raicharan replied: "He is with me, I will bring him the day after to-morrow." It was Sunday. There was no magistrate's court sitting.

He would say to his mistress with a look of awe and mystery: "Your son will be a judge some day." New wonders came in their turn. When the baby began to toddle, that was to Raicharan an epoch in human history. When he called his father Ba-ba and his mother Ma-ma and Raicharan Chan-na, then Raicharan's ecstasy knew no bounds. He went out to tell the news to all the world.

He could never quite look on Raicharan as a father, because, though fatherly in affection, he had the manner of a servant. A further fault was this, that Raicharan kept secret from every one that himself was the father of the child.

When Phailna saw that he was the wealthy magistrate's son, and not Raicharan's, he was angry at first, thinking that he had been cheated all this time of his birthright. But seeing Raicharan in distress, he generously said to his father: "Father, forgive him. Even if you don't let him live with us, let him have a small monthly pension." After hearing this, Raicharan did not utter another word.

And then where could an old man like Raicharan get such a boy from? And why should his faithful servant deceive him for nothing? "But," he added severely, "Raicharan, you must not stay here." "Where shall I go, Master?" said Raicharan, in a choking voice, folding his hands; "I am old. Who will take in an old man as a servant?" The mistress said: "Let him stay. My child will be pleased.

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