Smâyâtee lifted up her head, and looked at the speaker with an
expression of childlike gladness and trust that brought to the heart
of the wretch before her the long-lost sense of shame, and he could
not for the moment give utterance to the iniquity he was about to
perpetrate against her; he beckoned to an attendant, however, a sort
of treasurer, with a heavy box, who approached, crawling, and at his
instructions counted upon the floor forty pieces of gold,--sixteen
times the value of an ordinary slave-woman.
Rama still covered his face with his turban, so that none could have
told what was passing within him. His daughter laid her hand upon his
arm, saying: "O, my father, the good duke gives us all this gold and
promises us freedom! take it, and thank him, that he may permit us to
return home."
The unhappy Rajpoot turned a look full of mournful tenderness upon
his child. At the same moment the scribe, who had been industriously
writing, laid a paper before him, and said, in rather an authoritative
manner: "Tham Khai khat thedeo" (make the sale good, i.e., sign the
paper).
Even now it did not occur to the girl what the paper and the forty
pieces of gold meant.
To her mind they brought visions of freedom, as her heart yearned for
the hills and groves of her native land. She once more whispered to her
father to "take the money, and thank the duke, that he may let us go
back home."
But the old man looked at her in silence, seemingly unable to utter
a single word; his breathing came quick and hard, and all at once he
gasped out: "The gods forbid me to sell my daughter to thee, my lord.
Indra, Agni, and the Maruts, at whose roaring every dweller upon earth
trembles, forbid me. O, pardon thy servant, my lord, and let us depart
hence in peace."
The duke was doubly enraged, because of his last night's promise and
the forty pieces of gold with which he had hoped to bribe him into an
easy parting with his child. He turned to the bewildered Smâyâtee, and
said: "Come hither, girl." But as she only looked at him, and made no
attempt to go nearer, he added: "One thing is certain; this old fool,
thy father, is still drunk, and knows not his mind; he sold you to me
last night, and now he refuses, saying the gods forbid it."
[Illustration: A YOUNG SIAMESE NOBLEMAN.]
Smâyâtee turned from the duke to her father, her look changing from
incredulity to surprise, from surprise to anguish, while the duke
continued: "Now it is you who must decide for him; shall I hand him
over to the royal judges to be tried and executed for the crime he is
accused of, or will you consent to be my slave for life? I will make
you rich and happy, and I will give him this gold, and he shall return
in safety to his home."
He uttered these sentences in a loud, harsh voice, very different from
that in which he had spoken to her a few minutes before.
When he had finished, the crowd cheered the speech.
The girl looked at them, and, not knowing why, began to cry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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