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           The story about the servant Gada was perfectly true. The poor wretch had been sentenced to imprisonment for the alleged theft of a watch.
           Kamala had come to the end of her resources. When it seemed as though lifelong happiness lay within her grasp her hands were fettered. Fate had played her a cruel practical joke. Her life of drudgery as a prisoner within four walls became intolerable. She took to donning a wrapper and sallying forth into the cold night air of the garden as soon as her evening's toil was ended. There she would stand by the compound wall and would stand immovable, her passionate zeal for devoted service impelled her in search of a house that she had never seen. At last she would bow herself to the ground in a deep obeisance and retire to her chamber.
          One evening Nabinkali chose to send for her after her labours were over for the day. The bearer, however, returned with the announcement that the Brahman lady was nowhere to be found.
         "Do you mean to tell me she has bolted ?" exclaimed Nabinkali, and she personally searched the house from top to bottom, but found no trace of Kamala.
         She sought out her husband,Mukunda Babu, and informed him that to all appearances Kamala had run away. Mukunda Babu took the news quite calmly. "I told her not to," he murmured drowsily with hookah in his hand ; "she's inattentive creature. Has she taken anything with her ?"
        The wrapper that I gave her to keep her warm in this weather ; it's not in her room now. I haven't noticed if anything else is missing."
        "Send a word to the police," said her husband in a matter-of-fact tone. One of the servants was accordingly dispatched on this errand. Kamala had in the meantime retired indoors, where she came upon Nabinkali turning the whole contents of the room upside down in the endeavor to ascertain if anything had been stolen.
        "Well, what mischief have you been up to ? Where did you go ?" she cried, as soon as she caught sight of Kamala.
        "I went for a walk in the garden after I had finished my work."
        Nabinkali opened the vials of her wrath. She did not pick her words, and the servants all gathered round the door to listen.
       Storm as Nabinkali might, Kamala had never allowed her to see in tears, and this occasion was no exception ; the girl never flinched but stood like a statue under the torrent of vituperation. When it showed signs of slackening she interjected; "I am afraid you are dissatisfied with me ; you had better let me go."
       "I certainly will. If you think I'm going to feed and clothe such an ungrateful creature any longer  you're mistaken, but I'll teach you whom you have to deal with before I dismiss you."
        Kamala did not venture out of doors again. She shut herself into her room, comforting herself with the reflection that her sufferings had reached their climax and that Heaven must needs grant her relief now.
        On the fallowing evening Mukunda Babu went out for a drive, taking two of his servants with him, and the front door was bolted from inside after his departure. Dusk had fallen when a voice was heard outside inquiring if the master was at home.
        "Goodness me, that's Doctor Nalinaksha ! Budhiya ! Budhiya !" But there was no sign of Budhiya, so she turned to Kamala:
         "Just run down and open the door, will you ? Tell the doctor that my husband has gone out for a drive and will be back very soon. Ask him to wait for a few minutes."  

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           Nalinaksha ; a practice at Rangpur ; Kamala's doubts were completely at rest. Kamala got confirmed again that Dr.Nalinaksha was a Brahman, a Chaturjye, as per the information provided by Tulsi.
           Kamla went straight to Nabinkali and informed her that she had finished and wished to go and bathe at the Dasaswamedh Ghat.
           "That would be most inconvenient. My husband is ill and one can't foresee what he may require. Why do you want to go off there to-day in particular," questioned Nabinkali.
           "I've just heard that a relation of mine whom I want very much to meet is in Benares."
           Nabinkali could understand that it was Tulsi who was the informant of this news and she immediately directed a porter to dismiss Tulsi without a moments notice and never to allow him to show his face in the house again.
          Kamala had exercised patience so long as she had no positive information about Nalinaksha, but her spirit now began to chafe. She could not bear to remain another moment under a stranger's roof while her husband lived in the same city. Her capacity for work progressively declined and Nabinkali did not fail to comment on her shortcomings.
         "Look here, young lady," she said, "I don't like the way you're behaving. Have you taken the sulks ? You're at liberty to fast yourself if you like, but you needn't try starve us to death. The stuff you cook nowadays isn't fit to eat."
         "I can't work for you any longer," replied Kamala. "I can't stand it. Please let me go."
         "Oh, indeed ?" snarled Nabinkali. "That comes of doing people a good turn these days ! To think that, just to make room for you, I turned away that good old Brahman who had worked for us so long, and now he has gone, goodness knows where. You call yourself a true Brahman ! Think you've only to come along and say, 'Please let me go !' Wait till you try to run away and see if the police don't hear about it. My son's a magistrate and many a man has gone to the gallows at a word from him. You needn't try any of your games with me. Perhaps you've heard about Gada ? He cheeked his master and we taught him a lesson ; he is in jail to this day ! You can't play fast and loose with us !"  

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              Kamala's life in Nabinkali's house resembled that of a fish imprisoned in a shallow and muddy pond. Her only salvation lay in escape, but escape was out of question so long as she had no obvious goal for flight. Her recent escapade had taught her how forbidding the outside world appears by night, and she shrank from once more entrusting herself to the unknown.
            In her own peculiar way Nabinkali was fond of Kamala, but her affection took distasteful forms. She had come to the girl's rescue in the hour of need, but she made it hard for Kamala to feel correspondingly grateful, and Kamala infinitely preferred her menial duties to the boredom of the leisure hours which she was forced to spend in Nabinkali's society.
          One morning the old lady summoned her to listen to the following tirade : "Look here, young lady, my husband is not well to-day and he must have luchis instead of his usual food. All the same, you needn't use such a colossal quantity of ghee. You're a good cook, I admit, but I fail to understand what you do with with all the ghee. That Uriya Brahman was your superior there. He used ghee, of course, but the taste of it was hardly noticeable in his cooking."
         Kamala got offended by this remark, but went away quietly with her work as though she had heard nothing. Nabinkali had summoned the bearer to her room and was issuing instructions to him, and this is what Kamala overheard  :
        "Hi, you, Tulsi, run off to the city and fetch Dr.Nalinaksha at once ; tell him your master's not well to-day."
         Dr.Nalinaksha ! The sunbeams danced before Kamala's eyes like golden lute-strings struck by invisible fingers. She flung down her work and posted herself at the kitchen door to waylay Tulsi as he descended. No sooner had he appeared than she inquired where he was bound for.
        "I'm off to fetch Dr.Nalinaksha," said Tulsi.
        "Who may he be ?"
        "Why, he's by way being the best doctor in the place."
         "Where does he live ?" asked Kamala.
         "In the city, about a mile away."
         Kamala made a habit of dividing among the servants such small quantities of food as were left over when their superiors' wants had been satisfied. Frequent scolding had failed to deter her from this practice, her resolution being fortified by the fact that under Nabinkali's harsh rule the underlings never had enough to eat. Moreover the master and mistress were seldom punctual at their meals and the servants had to wait their turn. Hence Kamala was beset every day with plaintive appeals for a snack to stave off hunger, which she had not the heart to refuse. Kindly acts of this nature soon made all the servants her willing slaves.
        Kamala waited at the kitchen door for Tulsi's return, and he appeared in due course, but alone.
        "Has the doctor come, Tulsi ?" asked Kamala.
        "No, he couldn't come."
        "Why not ?"
        "His mother is ill."
        "His mother ? Hasn't he any one to look after her ?" asked Kamala.
        "No, he's not married," came the reply.
        "How do you know that ?"
         "I heard from the servants that he has no wife."
         "Perhaps his wife is dead," remarked Kamala.
        "May be ; but his servant Braja said that when he was practising at Rangpur he had no wife there either," replied Tulsi.
     
                 

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            Knowing the helpless state of Kamala Nabinkali started imagining to woo her and  exploit by contriving with sympathy, she started saying:
           "We don't need ourselves and we brought our own Brahman servants up-country with us. Moreover we can't employ any one who has no qualification save that of being a Brahman. My husband mustn't have his meals served up anyhow. One can't have a good man under fourteen rupees a month, and he wants his food and clothes besides. Still,here you are, a Brahman girl and in a difficulty ; so perhaps you had better come along with us after all. We have such a number of mouths to feed and such a lot of stuff is thrown away, one more won't make any difference. You won't find the work too heavy for you. There's only my husband and myself at home now. I've got all daughters off my hands now and they've married well too. We've only one son and he's a magistrate stationed at Serajganj just now. I know it's not many people who have the luck to get such a good position. We had a letter from Governor appointing him two months back."
         They reached Benares in a few hours. The whole party repaired to a two-storied house standing in a small garden on the outskirts of the city. There was no sign there of the fourteen-rupee Brahman cook. One of the servants was a Brahman, it is true, but he hailed from Orissa, and Uriya labour is notoriously cheapest in north-eastern India. Moreover, a few days after Kamala's arrival Nabinkali dismissed him without paying his wages, in a sudden explosion of wrath. The difficulty of finding another cook on fourteen rupees a month proving insurmountable, Kamala had to assume entire charge of the kitchen.
        Nabinkali was not sparing of good advice.
        "You must know, my dear," she would admonish Kamala, "Benares city is a bad place for young girls like you. You must never set foot outside the compound alone. When I go to bathe in the Ganges or to worship the Bisweswar image I'll take you alone with me.
        She took careful precautions lest Kamala should escape from her clutches. The girl had practically no opportunity of meeting companions of her own sex and race. Household duties took up her whole day, and in the evening Nabinkali would discourse on the wealth of ornaments and jewellery, the gold and silver plate, and the rich brocades which fear of thieves had deterred her from bringing to Benares."I prefer putting up with hardships for the time being, though we have a huge house and a host of servants, more than I can count, but we can't lug two or three dozen people about with us. My husband suggested renting an extra house near this one, but I said 'No' I couldn't stand that. It's a good opportunityto have a little peace here. I should have no rest day or night if we had more servants and rooms to look after," and so on ad nauseam.    

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              The last glimmer of the wintry twilight soon faded from the sky. The moonless sky studded with unwinking stars  breathed gently down on the deserted river-bank. Kamala proceeded forward  and she never paused to consider what lay at the end of her march.
             Kamala had been walking for some hours before the day dawned and meanwhile found a village on the river bank. As she approached it with beating heart it became apparent that all the inhabitants were sound asleep. Strength began to fail her and when at last she reached the top of an apparently sheer declivity she sank down at the foot of a banyan tree and slept the sleep of utter exhaustion.
          When she awoke towards dawn, besides her stood an elderly woman who plied her with questions in her own tongue. "Who are you there ? What are you doing, sleeping under a tree on a cold night like this ?"
         Kamala started up in alarm. Looking around she espied near at hand a landing-place at which two barges were moored and the old lady appeared to be on a journey and had risen early to bathe in the river.
        "You look like a Bengali, you do," she went on.
        "I am a Bengali," said Kamala.
        "What are you doing lying here ?"
        "I started off for Benares. Late at night I felt sleepy so I lay down here."
        "Did you ever hear the like ? Going to Benares on foot ! Well, you had better get on board that barge. I'll be along as soon as I've had my bath."
         The old lady bathed and then joining Kamala launched forth into her account of herself and her errand. She was related to the Sidhu Babu in Ghazipur, one of the members of whose family had just been married with great pomp and circumstance. Her own name was Nabinkali and her husband's name was Mukundalal Datta ; they were Kayasthas by cast, natives of Bengal, but they had been residing for some time in Benares.
        "What is your name ?" she asked.
        "Kamala."
        "I see you're wearing iron bangles ; your husband is alive then ?" asked Nabinkali.
         "He disappeared the day after our wedding."
        "Well I never ! you look quite young too ! Why, you can't be more than fifteen," she went on, after scanning Kamala from head to foot.
        "I'm not certain about my age, but I must be about fifteen."
        "You're a Brahman, aren't you ?" asked Nibankali.
        "Yes."
        "Where do your folk live ?"
         "I've never been to my husband's native place ; my father came from Bisukali," (though she never had been there Kamala knew that Bisukali was the name of her father's birth place). "Both my father and my mother are dead."
         "Bless my soul ! What are you going to do ?" asked the old woman.
         "I only want a roof over my head and two meals a day. If I can find some decent people in Benares who will give me these I'll work for my keep. I know how to cook," said Kamala.
          Nibankali was secretly delighted at the prospect of obtaining the services of a Brahman lady-cook gratis. She took care, however, to dissemble her joy.
  

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            When Kamala reached the bank of the Ganges the sun had already sunk to the verge of the pallid sky. Facing the oncoming dusk Kamala saluted the departing deity. She sprinkled drops of sacred water on her head, then stepping in to the stream and raising a handful of water in her joined palms, she bestowed a libation on the holy river and threw flowers into the current.
          She bowed herself in adoration of all the heavenly powers. As she raised her head from the ground she remembered one more being to whom she owed worship. She had never aspired to look upon his face. On that one night which she had spent by his side her eyes had never rested even on his feet. In the bridal chamber he had spoken a word or two to her girl-companions, but his accents had scarcely penetrated the barriers of the veil and of her own reserve. Now she stood at the river's brink she strove intensely but unsuccessfully to recall the sound of his voice.
          The night had been far spent before the wedding ceremonies were over. So utterly wearied had she been that she slept immediately, when and where she could not tell. She awoke to find a young married neighbor shaking her out of her drowsiness with shrieks of laughter. She was alone on the couch. In this last moment of her existence her mind could grasp nothing tangible to remind her of the lord of that existence. His personality was a closed book to her. Face, voice, visible token, there was nothing that she could recall.
         The letter that Ramesh had written to Hemamalini was still fastened into the corner of her dress. She drew it out and, sitting on the sand, re-read one of the sheets in the twilight. It was the portion of the letter which mentioned her husband ; there were no details, only the fact that his name was Nalinaksha Chatopadhyay, that he had been a doctor at Rangpur, and that Ramesh could find no trace of him anywhere. She searched for the remaining sheets but they were missing.
        Nalinaksha ! the name was balm to the wound in her soul. It seemed to fill her heart to overflowing, to take to itself an impalpable body and pervade her whole being. Tears flowed freely, melting the crust of her resolution and lightening the intolerable burden of her sorrow. A voice within her spoke ; "The void is filled, the darkness has lifted ; now I know that I too am part of the living world"; and she cried fervently, "If I would be a true wife to him I must live to prostrate myself at his feet. Nothing will rob me of this guerdon. While life endures he is not lost to me. The Lord has preserved me from death that I may serve him !"
        She took the bunch of keys from the kerchief in which they were wrapped and flung them from her. Then she recollected that she wore as a fastening a brooch that Ramesh had given her, and this too she hastily undid and cast into the stream. Then, turning westward, she set forth. Whither she was bound and how she would set about her quest she had no clear conception. She only knew that she must go forward, that she could not tarry a moment longer where she was.

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             After hearing the story of Nalinaksha's marriage and the calamity that took place afterwords Kshemankari's face turned grey.
            "Amen," she said ; "we can not help the past, but never mention this to me again. I shudder to think of it."
            "I should never have told you, mother, had you not been so insistent about marriage," told Nalin.
             But his mother insisted, "why, this calamity to prevent your marriage at all ?"
             "This girl may have survived after all ; that is why I have scruples about marrying," expressed Nalinaksha.
             "Are you mad ? You would certainly have heard of her had she been alive."
             "She knows nothing about me. I was complete a stranger to her as any one could be. I don't suppose she has ever seen my face. When I arrived in Benares I wrote to Tarini Chaturjye giving him my address, but apparently my letter never reached him for it came back to me through the dead-letter office," he explained ; "I have decided to let a whole year elapse before I take her death for granted."
            "So be it ; but, dear, what an awful thing it was that you told me ! I'm still trembling at the thought of it," she said in exclamation.
            "I was afraid of that, mother, and I fear it will be a long time before you are your normal self again. Once anything disturbs your composure you do not regain it easily. You understand my reluctance to tell you this story," he convinced his mother.
            "You did well. my son. I don't know what has come over me nowadays but when I hear any evil tidings the horror of it grips me. You know ! I shrink from opening any letter for fear it may contain bad news. As you know, I have even requested you to keep news back from me. I fear that I have lived too ling, else why these repeated shocks ?" she grieved  and remained silent.