Neither Mrinalini nor Girijaya had forgotten their mutual promise in the meantime. At midnight, both met beside Hrishikesh’s house. As soon as Mrinalini saw Girijaya, she asked, “Well, where is Hemchandra?”

Girijaya replied, “He has not come.”

“He has not come!” The words echoed from the depths of Mrinalini’s heart. For a moment, both were silent. Then Mrinalini asked, “Why did he not come?”

Gi. I do not know. He has given this letter.

Saying this, Girijaya placed the letter in her hand. Mrinalini said, “How shall I read it? If I go home and light a lamp to read, Manimalini will wake.”

Girijaya said, “Do not be anxious. I have a lamp, oil, flint, “I have brought everything. I will light the lamp at once.”

Girijaya swiftly produced fire and lit the lamp.

The sound of fire-making reached the ears of one of the householders. In the lamplight, he saw.

When Girijaya lit the lamp, Mrinalini inwardly recited as follows:

“Mrinalini! How shall I write to you? For my sake, you have left your homeland and are spending your days in hardship in a stranger’s house. Though by the grace of fate I have found your whereabouts, yet I have not met you. You may think me unloving for this—or, had you been another, you might have thought so—but you will not. I am engaged in a special vow; if I neglect it, I am faithless to my lineage. For its fulfillment, I have pledged to my guru that I shall not meet you here. I know with certainty that you would not wish me to break my word for your sake. Therefore, somehow pass this year. If God is pleased, soon I shall make you queen of the palace and my happiness will be complete. Send your reply through the hand of this young, clever girl.”

After reading the letter, Mrinalini said to Girijaya, “Girijaya! I have neither paper nor pen to write a reply. Take my answer by word of mouth. You are trustworthy; as a reward, I give you the ornaments from my body.”

Girijaya said, “To whom shall I take the reply? When he gave me the letter and bade me farewell, he said, ‘Bring me the reply tonight itself.’ I agreed. On my way here, I thought perhaps you would have nothing to write with; so I went to him to bring those things. I did not find him. I heard he…” He departed for Navadwip at dusk.”

Mrinalini: Navadwip?

Girijaya: Navadwip.

Mrinalini: At dusk itself?

Girijaya: At dusk itself. I heard that his guru came and took him along.

Mrinalini: Madhavacharya. Madhavacharya is my doom.

After pondering for a long while, Mrinalini said, “Girijaya, you may go now. I shall not remain outside my chamber any longer.”

Girijaya replied, “I am leaving.” Saying this, Girijaya took her leave. As the faint strains of her gentle song faded away, Mrinalini re-entered her room.

As Mrinalini stepped into the house and was about to close the door, someone came up from behind and seized her hand. Mrinalini started in alarm. The person who had seized her hand said, “So, virtuous lady! At last you are caught in the net. May I not know who your favored companion is?”

Trembling with anger, Mrinalini said, “Byomkesh! Heretic among Brahmins! Release my hand.”

Byomkesh was the son of Hrishikesh. He was a man of utter ignorance and depravity. He had become especially enamored of Mrinalini, and, seeing no other hope of fulfilling his desire, had resolved to use force. But Mrinalini rarely left Manimalini’s side, and thus Byomkesh had not found an opportunity until now.

At Mrinalini’s rebuke, Byomkesh said, “Why should I let go? What is there to be gained by letting go? What use is all this talk of letting go, dear? Let me share a sorrow of my heart—am I not human? If you have delighted the heart of one, can you not do so for another?” Mrinalini: Wretch! If you do not let me go, I shall at once call out and rouse all the household.

Byomkesh: Call them. I shall say I have caught the trysting woman.

Mrinalini: Then go to your ruin.

Saying this, Mrinalini tried with all her strength to free her hand, but she could not succeed. Byomkesh said, “Do not be agitated. Once my wish is fulfilled, I shall let you go. Now, where is that sister of yours, Manimalini?”

Mrinalini: I am your sister.

Byomkesh: You are the sister of my brother-in-law—my Brahmani’s brother’s sister—my beloved Radhika! The fulfiller of all my desires!

So saying, Byomkesh drew Mrinalini to him by the hand and began to lead her away. When Madhavacharya had abducted her, Mrinalini had not cried out in the manner natural to women, nor did she make a sound now. But Mrinalini could bear it no longer. Silently invoking a hundred thousand Brahmins in her heart, she forcefully kicked Byomkesh.

Byomkesh, receiving the kick, exclaimed, “Well done, well done! I am blessed! By the touch of your feet, I shall attain salvation. Beautiful one! You are my Draupadi—I am your Jayadratha.”

From behind, a voice said, “And I am your Arjuna.”

Suddenly, Byomkesh let out a piercing, anguished scream, “Demoness! Is there poison in your teeth?” With these words, Byomkesh released Mrinalini’s hand and began to rub his back. By the sensation of touch, he realized that blood was streaming down his back.

Even with her hand freed, Mrinalini did not flee. She too was at first astonished, like Byomkesh, for she had not bitten him. Such a bear-like act was not hers to perform. But just then, in the starlight, a short, girlish figure slipped away from before them. He saw what was happening. Girija, clutching at his garments, whispered softly, “Run away!”—and herself fled.

Flight was not in Mrinalini’s nature. She did not flee. Seeing Byomkesh standing in the courtyard, wailing and uttering plaintive accusations, she strode towards her bedchamber with the stately gait