The unpremeditated words burst from her lips with passionate longing. It was the cry of the mother whose maternal love could not be stifled nor killed by anger. Her instinct thrust down every barrier, and she cried aloud for her offspring. The lonely woman was giving up her marital rights to another for the sake of her husband's religious prejudices that she respected and believed in thoroughly. She devoutly hoped that a son would be born to him who might bring comfort and reassurance concerning the future. Her act of renunciation made a heavy demand upon her. She had already seen how the man's eyes had turned with desire towards the younger woman in whom lay so much promise; and although she was still mistress of his house, their unity was ruptured for ever. The Hindu woman understands polygamy and, as in Gunga's case, sees the urgent necessity for it; but she is not indifferent. She tolerates it as unavoidable; at the bottom of her heart she hates and loathes it. This introduction of a second mate is at the bottom of all sorts of evil in the zenana, of jealousy and hatred on the part of the superseded; of arrogance and tyranny on the part of the interloper. Gunga was battling with jealousy even though she herself had arranged what was to take place; and she turned to her son with a longing that would take no denial, renegade and apostate though he was to his family and religion. "Tell me where he is so that I may go to him! After all, he is still my son, my only child, my dearly loved boy!" she pleaded. Bopaul recognised the maternal cry and he answered sympathetically. "A letter addressed to the mission station will always find him. Let me remind you, honourable lady, that it is not Ananda who has created this breach between his parents and himself. It was always his hope that his father would continue to treat him as a son; that some way might be found by which the ties of blood might be maintained without complete banishment from home. You have so acted that any compromise was impossible. He has done well in removing himself out of reach of injury and insult; and in forsaking a country that gives him no protection as a citizen." Gunga's proud head drooped. "Perhaps we were too hard on the boy. If we had had more time for thought it might have been different," she said, in a broken voice. "Shall I give him a message when I write?" asked Bopaul whose curious, modern philanthropy made him ready and almost anxious to heal the breach. "Ah, do, my son!" replied Gunga, with sudden hope. "Tell him that I will come soon and talk to him at the mission house. I have so much to say. There is work for him at Bombay. Tell him that though he is lost to his father, to his religion, to the State--though he is an outcaste and an exile, his mother remains his mother still. Nothing, nothing that gods or men may devise, can ever deprive a woman of the rights of motherhood when once a child is born to her!" CHAPTER XXIX