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The immediate success of Kumodini Babu's market caused infinite annoyance to Ramani Babu, who owned one long established in the neighbourhood. Hucksters and country-folk found the tolls levied there so much lighter, that the attendance at Ramani's fell off grievously. If, as often happens, the daring speculator be a man of substance, he employs similar means in his defence.
She took a vow of vengeance and laid in wait for an opportunity of fulfilling it. Meeting him one day in the village street, she asked with an air of mystery: "Have you heard the news?" "What's that?" replied Debendra Babu carelessly. "It concerns the woman Siráji," she whispered. All Debendra Babu's fears revived; he exclaimed: "Speak plainly, what is the matter?" "The matter stands thus.
The man's name and regimental number proved him to have been one of D Squadron's men, and since its commander, Ranjoor Singh, was then in quarters, the news was brought to him at once. "Killed where?" he demanded; so they told him. "Exactly when?" It became evident to Ranjoor Singh that there had been some truth after all in the babu's tale.
"Why don't you attend Ramani Babu's market?" "Because it does not pay me to go there." "So you used to take your vegetables to Ramani Babu's market?" "Yes; but there are hardly any customers left. Now please let me go; the sun is high up." "So you won't obey me!" "No!" roared the carter, prodding his oxen viciously. "Stop a minute, I tell you! "Ramani Babu's."
The whole place is filled with an immense crowd, through which Sandip Babu is borne, seated in a big chair hoisted on the shoulders of ten or twelve of the youths. Bande Mataram! Bande Mataram! Bande Mataram! It seems as though the skies would be rent and scattered into a thousand fragments. I had seen Sandip Babu's photograph before. There was something in his features which I did not quite like.
"So I thought," said the Sub-Inspector. "Now all present will follow me." With the assistance of his constable and chaukidars, he led them to Debendra Babu's house. The latter received them in his parlour. He affected to be surprised and shocked by the news of Siráji's death. "That is strange," retorted the Sub-Inspector. "Abdullah here has sworn that he poisoned her at your request."
He understood now how the babu's companion had fallen into error: how Chatterji, possessing sufficient intelligence to recognise his initial mistake, had, having rectified it, saved his face by saying nothing to his companion of the incident; and how the latter had remained in ignorance of Rutton's death after the slaying of Chatterji, and had pardonably mistaken Amber for the man he had been sent to spy upon.
There is some truth in the notion that fortune's gifts seldom come singly. Kumodini Babu's success in a business venture was immediately followed by one in his domestic affairs. It fell out in this wise. Shám Babu's daughter, Shaibalini, was still unmarried, though nearly thirteen and beautiful enough to be the pride of Kadampur.
If I keep them apart the Babu's love will ripen. Then I will bring out Kunda and give her to him. Then if Surja Mukhi's fate is not broken, it must be a very strong fate. In the meantime I will mould Kunda to my will. But, first, I must send my grandmother to Kamarghat, else I cannot keep Kunda hidden." With this design, Hira set about her arrangements.
The marriage-broker had certainly suggested more than one aspirant for her hand, but they were not to Jadu Babu's liking. As years rolled by, his anxiety deepened into despair. A match was at length offered which was passably good, although it did not answer Jadu Babu's expectations.
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