Still, Tulsi’s fear did not subside; she sat with the tense posture of a startled fawn. Byomkesh began to speak to her in a soft, friendly tone, as if to an equal. A few words of gentle teasing, stories of girls’ games, doll weddings, and other amusements—gradually, as she listened, Tulsi’s fear began to melt away. At first…

Byomkesh Samagra

After a few monosyllabic replies—‘hmm’, ‘no’—she began to speak more freely. Within fifteen minutes, an easy camaraderie had blossomed between Tulsi and us. I observed her closely: her mind was guileless, her intelligence keen; only her nerves were not sound. The slightest provocation would send her into a nervous agitation that exceeded all bounds of simplicity. Byomkesh had read her character well, and with gentle affection had drawn her in.

There is no need to recount every detail of our conversation with Tulsi; much of what we learned about their family has already been recorded. I will note down what remains.

Byomkesh asked, “The gentleman who was here, your father’s friend Ishanbabu—did you get along with him?”

Tulsi replied, “Yes. He used to tell me so many stories. He couldn’t sleep at night; many times, in the middle of the night, I’d go to him to hear his tales.”

“Is that so! The night he died—where were you that night?”

“That night, they had locked me in my room.”

“Locked you in your room? What’s this!”

“Yes. I tend to wander off at odd hours, so whenever they get the chance, they lock me in.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“Everyone. Father, elder brother, second brother, brother-in-law—”

“Who locked you in your room that night?”

“Father.”

“I see. And last night, was it your second brother who locked you in?”

“Yes—how did you know?”

“I know everything. Now, tell me something else. Your elder brother was married, do you remember your sister-in-law?”

“Why wouldn’t I? She was very beautiful. Didi was terribly jealous of her.”

“Really! Then why did your sister-in-law commit suicide?”

“I don’t know. That night, Didi had locked me in my room.”

“Oh—”

Byomkesh exchanged a glance with me. After some further conversation, Byomkesh asked, “Tell me, Tulsi, whom do you love most in this house?”

Without hesitation, with a candid face, Tulsi replied, “Mastermoshai. He loves me very much too.”

“And you don’t love Monilal?”

Tulsi’s eyes suddenly flashed—“No. Why does he envy Mastermoshai? Why does he complain about Mastermoshai to Father? If he marries me, I’ll push him off a cliff!” With that, Tulsi dashed out of the room.

The two of us sat looking at each other. At last, Byomkesh sighed and said, “Poor girl!”

Half an hour later, as I was about to get up for a bath, Ramapati peeked in at the door, his voice hesitant. “Did Tulsi come this way?”

Byomkesh replied, “Yes, she left just a little while ago. Come in—sit down.”

Durgo Rahasya 321

Ramapati sat down hesitantly.

Byomkesh said, “Ramapati, the first day we came here, you said that now