the hungry stones and other stories-第33章

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〃There　are　ceremonies　going　on；〃　I　said；　〃and　I　am　busy。　　Could　you　perhaps　come　another　day？〃

At　once　he　turned　to　go；　but　as　he　reached　the　door　he　hesitated；　and　said：　〃May　I　not　see　the　little　one；　sir；　for　a　moment？〃　　It　was　his　belief　that　Mini　was　still　the　same。　　He　had　pictured　her　running　to　him　as　she　used；　calling　〃O　Cabuliwallah！　Cabuliwallah！〃　　He　had　imagined　too　that　they　would　laugh　and　talk　together；　just　as　of　old。　　In　fact；　in　memory　of　former　days　he　had　brought；　carefully　wrapped　up　in　paper；　a　few　almonds　and　raisins　and　grapes；　obtained　somehow　from　a　countryman；　for　his　own　little　fund　was　dispersed。

I　said　again：　〃There　is　a　ceremony　in　the　house；　and　you　will　not　be　able　to　see　any　one　to…day。〃

The　man's　face　fell。　　He　looked　wistfully　at　me　for　a　moment；　said　〃Good　morning；〃　and　went　out。　　I　felt　a　little　sorry；　and　would　have　called　him　back；　but　I　found　he　was　returning　of　his　own　accord。　　He　came　close　up　to　me　holding　out　his　offerings　and　said：　〃I　brought　these　few　things；　sir；　for　the　little　one。　　Will　you　give　them　to　her？〃

I　took　them　and　was　going　to　pay　him；　but　he　caught　my　hand　and　said：　〃You　are　very　kind；　sir！　　Keep　me　in　your　recollection。　　Do　not　offer　me　money！You　have　a　little　girl；　I　too　have　one　like　her　in　my　own　home。　I　think　of　her；　and　bring　fruits　to　your　child；　not　to　make　a　profit　for　myself。〃

Saying　this；　he　put　his　hand　inside　his　big　loose　robe；　and　brought　out　a　small　and　dirty　piece　of　paper。　　With　great　care　he　unfolded　this；　and　smoothed　it　out　with　both　hands　on　my　table。　　It　bore　the　impression　of　a　little　band。　　Not　a　photograph。　　Not　a　drawing。　　The　impression　of　an　ink…smeared　hand　laid　flat　on　the　paper。　　This　touch　of　his　own　little　daughter　had　been　always　on　his　heart；　as　he　had　come　year　after　year　to　Calcutta；　to　sell　his　wares　in　the　streets。

Tears　came　to　my　eyes。　　I　forgot　that　he　was　a　poor　Cabuli　fruit…seller；　while　I　wasbut　no；　what　was　I　more　than　he？　　He　also　was　a　father。　That　impression　of　the　hand　of　his　little　Parbati　in　her　distant　mountain　home　reminded　me　of　my　own　little　Mini。

I　sent　for　Mini　immediately　from　the　inner　apartment。　　Many　difficulties　were　raised；　but　I　would　not　listen。　　Clad　in　the　red　silk　of　her　wedding…day；　with　the　sandal　paste　on　her　forehead；　and　adorned　as　a　young　bride；　Mini　came；　and　stood　bashfully　before　me。

The　Cabuliwallah　looked　a　little　staggered　at　the　apparition。　　He　could　not　revive　their　old　friendship。　　At　last　he　smiled　and　said：　〃Little　one；　are　you　going　to　your　father…in…law's　house？〃

But　Mini　now　understood　the　meaning　of　the　word　〃father…in…law；〃　and　she　could　not　reply　to　him　as　of　old。　　She　flushed　up　at　the　question；　and　stood　before　him　with　her　bride…like　face　turned　down。

I　remembered　the　day　when　the　Cabuliwallah　and　my　Mini　had　first　met；　and　I　felt　sad。　　When　she　had　gone；　Rahmun　heaved　a　deep　sigh；　and　sat　down　on　the　floor。　　The　idea　had　suddenly　come　to　him　that　his　daughter　too　must　have　grown　in　this　long　time；　and　that　he　would　have　to　make　friends　with　her　anew。　　Assuredly　he　would　not　find　her；　as　he　used　to　know　her。　　And　besides；　what　might　not　have　happened　to　her　in　these　eight　years？

The　marriage…pipes　sounded；　and　the　mild　autumn　sun　streamed　round　us。　But　Rahmun　sat　in　the　little　Calcutta　lane；　and　saw　before　him　the　barren　mountains　of　Afghanistan。

I　took　out　a　bank…note；　and　gave　it　to　him；　saying：　〃Go　back　to　your　own　daughter；　Rahmun；　in　your　own　country；　and　may　the　happiness　of　your　meeting　bring　good　fortune　to　my　child！〃

Having　made　this　present；　I　had　to　curtail　some　of　the　festivities。　　I　could　not　have　the　electric　lights　I　had　intended；　nor　the　military　band；　and　the　ladies　of　the　house　were　despondent　at　it。　　But　to　me　the　wedding　feast　was　all　the　brighter　for　the　thought　that　in　a　distant　land　a　long…lost　father　met　again　with　his　only　child。





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