No sooner had the Rajah gone, than Guzra Bai thought she would try the power of the bell. So she rang it. The Rajah instantly appeared. "What do you want?" he said. "Oh, nothing," she replied. "I was foolish. I could hardly believe what you told me could be true, and thought I would try." "Now you will believe, I hope," he said, and went away. A second time she rang the bell. Again the Rajah returned. "Oh, pardon me, husband," she said; "it was wrong of me not to trust you, but I hardly thought you could return again from so far." And again he went away. A third time she rang the golden bell. "Why do you ring again, Guzra Bai?" asked the Rajah sternly, as for a third time he returned. "I don't know, indeed; indeed I beg your pardon," she said; "but I know not why, I felt so frightened." "Have any of the Ranees been unkind to you?" he asked. "No, none," she answered; "in fact, I have seen none of them." "You are a silly child," said he, stroking her hair. "Affairs of the state call me away. You must try and keep a good heart till my return;" and for the fourth time he disappeared. A little while after this, wonderful to relate, Guzra Bai had a hundred and one children--a hundred boys and one girl. When the Ranees heard this, they said to each other, "Guzra Bai, the Malee's daughter, will rank higher than us; she will have great power and influence as mother to the heir to the Raj; let us kill these children, and tell our husband that she is a sorceress; then will he love her no longer, and his old affection for us will return." So these twelve wicked Ranees all went over to Guzra Bai's house. When Guzra Bai saw them coming, she feared they meant to do her some harm, so she seized her little golden bell, and rang, and rang, and rang--but no Rajah came. She had called him back so often that he did not believe she really needed his help. And thus the poor woman was left to the mercy of her implacable enemies. Now the nurse who had charge of the hundred and one babies was an old servant of the twelve Ranees, and moreover a very wicked woman, able and willing to do whatever her twelve wicked old mistresses ordered. So when they said to her, "Can you kill these children?" she answered, "Nothing is easier; I will throw them out upon the dust-heap behind the palace, where the rats and hawks and vultures will have left none of them remaining by to-morrow morning."