VII

In the Ravine

Deeply moved by these vivid memories, the pilgrim became silent for a short time. Then he sighed, drew his hand over his forehead, and went on with his narrative.

In short, O brother, I went about during this whole time as if intoxicated with bliss, and my feet scarcely seemed to touch the earth. On one occasion I was obliged to laugh aloud because I heard that there were people who called this world a vale of woe, and who directed their thoughts and wishes to the not being born again among men. “What arrant fools, Somadatta,” I cried, “as if there could be a more perfect abode of bliss than the Terrace of the Sorrowless!”

But beneath the terrace was the abyss.

Down into this we had just scrambled, as I called out those foolish words, and, as if I were to be shown that even the greatest of earthly pleasures has its bitterness, we were that very instant assailed by several armed men. How many there were of them, it was not possible for us, in the darkness, to distinguish. Fortunately, we were able to cover our backs by placing them against the wall of rock; and, with the calming consciousness that we were now only threatened in front, we began to fight for life and love. We bit our teeth together and were silent as the night, the while we parried and thrust as coolly as possible; but our opponents howled like devils in order to urge one another on, and we believed we could distinguish eight to ten of them. Even if they now found a couple of better swordsmen before them than they had expected, our situation was yet sufficiently grave. Two of them, however, soon measured their length on the ground, and their bodies hindered the fighting of the others, who feared to stumble over them and so be delivered up to the tender mercies of our sword-points. Then they withdrew, as we imagined, a few steps: we certainly no longer felt their hot breath in our faces.

I whispered a few words to Somadatta, and we moved a couple of paces sideward, in the hope that our assailants, imagining us in the old spot, would make a sudden leap forward, and, in so doing, would run against the wall of rock, and break the points of their swords, while ours should find an energetic lodgment between their ribs. Although we observed the greatest caution, however, some faint sound must have awakened their suspicion. For the blind attack we hoped for did not ensue; but presently I saw a narrow streak of light strike the wall, and also became aware that this ray was emitted from a lamp-wick, evidently fixed in a carefully opened holder, beside which a warty nose and a cunning half-closed eye were to be seen.

As the bamboo pole by the help of which we had scaled the terrace front was still in my left hand, I made a manful thrust with it. There was a loud shriek, and the disappearance of the ray, no less than the clirr of the small lamp as it fell to the earth, bore witness to the efficacy of my stroke; and this brief respite we made use of to get away as rapidly as possible in the direction whence we had come. We knew that here the gorge became gradually narrower and the ascent somewhat steep, and that, finally, one could scramble up to the top without any special exertion. But it was nevertheless a piece of great good fortune that our would-be murderers very soon gave up the pursuit in the darkness; for, at the final ascent, my strength threatened to give way, and I felt that I was bleeding copiously from several wounds. My friend was also wounded, though less severely.

On the level once more, we cut up my robe and temporarily bound up our wounds, and then, leaning on Somadatta’s arm, I fortunately succeeded in reaching home, where I was obliged to pass several weeks on a bed of pain.

There I now lay, tortured by threefold trouble. My wounds and the fever together consumed my body, and a burning longing for my beloved devoured my soul. But to these was soon added apprehension for her precious life. For the delicate, flower-like being had not been able to endure the news of the mortal danger in which I had been, and perhaps even yet was, and had fallen victim to a severe illness. Her faithful foster-sister Medini, however, went daily from one sickbed to the other, and we did not lack at least for constant communication and stimulating intercourse. Flowers passed to and fro between us, and, as we were both initiated into the mystery of the language of flowers, we confided many things to one another by the help of these sweet messengers. Later, as our strength came back, many a dainty verse found its way from hand to hand, and our condition would soon have become really quite endurable if, with our recovery⁠—which kept even pace in her case and in mine, just as though we were too truly united to admit of any precedence whatever between us⁠—the future had not also approached and filled us with grave care.

I may say here, that the nature of the, to all appearance, enigmatic and sudden attack had not remained a mystery to us. No other than the son of the Minister of State⁠—Satagira was his hated name⁠—with whom I had striven on that unforgettable afternoon in the park for Vasitthi’s ball⁠—no other than he had set the hired murderers upon me. Beyond a doubt he had noticed that I remained behind in the town, after the departure of the embassy, and his suspicions having been thereby awakened, he had very soon spied out my nightly visits to the terrace.

Ah! that Terrace of the Sorrowless was, to our love, like a sunken island now. True, I would have joyfully flung my life into the breach, over and over again, to be able to embrace my sweet darling. But even if Vasitthi had had the heart to expose me every night to deadly danger, any such temptation was spared us. Satagira, in his baseness, must have informed the parents of my sweetheart of our secret meetings, for it was soon apparent that Vasitthi was carefully and jealously watched; besides which, staying out on the terrace after sundown was forbidden to her⁠—ostensibly on account of the danger to her health.

Thus, then, was our love homeless. That which, most of all, feels itself at home in secret, might only be so now where the whole world looked on. In that public garden where I first beheld her divine form, and had sought for her several times in vain, we met once or twice, as if by chance. But what a meeting was that! How fleeting the stolen minutes! how hesitating and few the hasty words! how forced the movements which felt themselves exposed to curious or even spying glances! Vasitthi besought me at once to leave the town in which I was threatened with deadly danger because of her neighbourhood. She reproached herself bitterly for having by her obstinacy, on that first evening on the terrace, prevailed upon me to stay, and thereby all but driven me into the jaws of death already. Perhaps even at this very moment in which she was speaking, a fresh band of assassins was being hired against me. If I did not depart at once, and so place myself beyond the reach of this peril, I should make her the murderess of her best beloved. Suppressed sobs choked her utterance, and I was obliged to stand there without being able to enfold her in my arms, or kiss away the tears which rolled, heavy as the first drops of a thundershower, down over her pallid cheeks. Such a farewell I could not suffer, and I told her it was not possible to leave without first meeting her alone, in what way soever this might have to be accomplished.

Vasitthi’s despairing and beseeching look, as, just at that moment, we were obliged, owing to the approach of several people, to part, could not shake my determination. I trusted to the invention of my beloved, who now, spurred on by longing for me and fear for my life, counselled moreover by her clever and⁠—in all love matters⁠—experienced foster-sister Medini, would be certain to find some way out of the difficulty. And I was not deceived; for that very night Somadatta was able to tell me of a most promising plan of hers.