Perhaps then she felt a pang of regret at her own weakness. She spoke out, her voice fierce—"You have no right to cast aspersions on me. If you are one of those men who cannot see a man and woman together without raising a finger, then by all means, do so. I do not care in the least. If a woman were to come to you again and again on some pretext, to consider you her deity, to seek your counsel in every matter, to lay her eyes at your feet, to be ready to leap into fire at your command—then I can say with certainty, you would not ignore her. If you could reject her, then you are not human. Bring forth as many arguments and proofs as you like against this, but I will not believe them. I say, forget ignoring, forget rejecting—before long, you would be washing that woman’s feet and drinking the water, and she would become the queen of your heart. I beg you, with folded hands, never mention Khanna’s name before me again."

Mehta, as if warming his hands over this fire, replied, "The only condition is that I do not see Khanna with you."

"I cannot murder humanity. If he comes, I will not drive him away."

"Tell him to behave decently with his wife."

"I do not consider it proper to interfere in anyone’s private affairs. Nor do I have the right."

"Then you cannot silence anyone’s tongue."

Malti’s bungalow had arrived. The car stopped. Malti got down and walked away without even shaking hands. She even forgot that she had invited Mehta for dinner. She wanted to go somewhere alone and weep her heart out. Govindi had wounded her before, but today’s blow was deeper, broader, and more piercing than any before.

Raisahab received news that an incident had occurred in the estate and that the panchayat of Hori’s village had already collected the fine. He immediately summoned Nokhe Ram and demanded an explanation—why had he not been informed? There was no place in his court for such a thankless, treacherous man.

Nokhe Ram, after enduring so much abuse, finally retorted, a little heated, "I was not alone. There were other panchayat members too. What could I have done by myself?"

Raisahab cast a spear-like, piercing glance at his belly—"Don’t argue! You should have said right then and there: until the zamindar is informed, I will not allow the panchayat to collect the fine. What right do the panchayat members have to interfere between me and my tenants? Apart from this land and water tax, what other income is there in the estate? The collection has gone to the government. The arrears have been claimed by the tenants. Then where am I to go? What am I to eat—your head? Where am I to get the lakhs of rupees needed each year? It is a shame that after two generations of service, I have to explain this to you today. How much was collected from Hori?"

Nokhe Ram, flustered, replied, "Eighty rupees."

"In cash?"

"How would he have cash, huzoor? He gave some grain, and for the rest, he signed over his house."

Raisahab, setting aside his own interest, took Hori’s side—"So, you and Bagula Bhagat and the other panchayat members together have ruined one of my most important tenants. I ask you, what right did you have to collect a fine from my tenant in my estate without informing me? For this alone—"

If I wished, I could have that cruel patwari and that cunning pandit sent to jail for seven years each. Do you think you are the lords of this land? Let me make it clear: by this evening, the full amount of the fine must reach me, or there will be consequences. I will have each one of you grinding at the millstone before I let you go. Now go, and yes, send Hori and his son to me.

Nokheram muttered under his breath, “His son has run away from the village. The very night this incident happened, he fled.”

Raisahab said angrily, “Don’t lie. You know well that lies set my blood aflame. Never in my life have I heard of a young man bringing his beloved to her home, only to run away himself. If he had wanted to run, why would he have brought the girl? Surely, you people are up to some mischief in this as well. Even if you drowned yourselves in the Ganga to prove your innocence, I would not believe you. To protect your precious social codes, you must have threatened him. What else could the poor boy do but run?”

Nokheram could not protest. Whatever the master says is right. He could not even suggest that Raisahab himself come and investigate the truth. The anger of great men demands complete submission; they cannot bear to hear a single word against themselves.

When the panchayat heard Raisahab’s verdict, their intoxication vanished. The grain was still lying untouched, but the money had long since disappeared. Hori’s house had been mortgaged, but who cared for such a house in the village? Just as a Hindu wife is the mistress of the home with her husband, but if he abandons her, she is left with nothing, so too this house was worth a fortune to Hori, but in truth, it was worthless. And Raisahab would not be satisfied without the money. Surely Hori must have gone to him and wept. Pateshwari Lal was the most afraid; he might even lose his job. The four gentlemen sat pondering this grave problem, but no one’s mind could find a solution. Each blamed the other, and soon a fierce quarrel broke out.

Pateshwari shook his long, suspicious neck and said, “I warned you that we should keep silent about Hori. In the matter of the cow, everyone had to pay a fine. In this matter, even the fine won’t save us; we’ll lose our jobs. But