Stelath

      “Aditi,” said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking down the street, “Here is a madcap coming along. It seems rather sad that his relatives should allow him to come out alone.”

She rose lazily from her armchair and stood with her hands in the pockets of her dressing gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a dark, thundering February morning, and because the rain of the day before water still lay flat upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the cloudy sun. Down in the middle of Street it had been broken into a brown crumbly band by the traffic, but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of the foot-paths it still lay as white as when it fell. The grey pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but was still dangerously slippery, so that there were fewer passengers than usual. Indeed, from the direction of the Metropolitan Station no one was coming save the single gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention.

He was a man of about fifty-five, tall, portly, and imposing, with a massive, strongly marked face and a commanding figure. He was dressed in a somber yet fancy, in black kurta, shining cap, and skin tight black jeans. Yet his actions were in absurd contrast to the dignity of his dress and features, for he was running hard, with occasional little springs, such as a weary man gives who is little accustomed to set any tax upon his legs. As he ran he jerked his hands up and down, waggled his head, and writhed his face into the most extraordinary contortions.

“What on earth can be the matter with him?” She asked. “He is looking up at the numbers of the houses.”

“I believe that he is coming here,” I said, exciting in my mind.

“Here?”

“Yes; I rather think he is coming to consult me professionally. I think that I recognize the symptoms.

Ha! Did I not tell you?” As I spoke, the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at our door and pulled at our bell until the whole house resounded with the clanging.

A few moments later he was in our house, still puffing, still gesticulating, but with so fixed a look of grief and despair in his eyes that our smiles were turned in an instant to horror and pity. For a while he could not get his words out, but swayed his body and plucked at his hair like one who has been driven to the extreme limits of his reason. Then, suddenly springing to his feet, he beat his head against the wall with such force that we both rushed upon him and tore him away to the middle of the room. I pushed him down into the easy-chair and, sitting beside him, patted his hand and chatted with him in the easy, soothing tones which I knew so well how to employ.

“You have come to me to tell your story, sir, have you not?” said I. “You are fatigued with your haste. Please wait until you have recovered yourself, and then I shall be most happy to look into any little problem which you may submit to me.”

The man sat for a minute or more with a heaving chest, fighting against his emotion. Then he passed his handkerchief over his eyebrow, set his lips tight, and turned his face towards us.

“No doubt you think me mad?” said he.

“I see that you have had some great trouble,” responded Aditi.

“God knows I have!—a trouble which is enough to unseat my reason, so sudden and so terrible is it. Public disgrace I might have faced, although I am a man whose character has never yet borne a stain. Private affliction also is the lot of every man; but the two coming together, and in so frightful a form, have been enough to shake my very soul. Besides, it is not I alone. The very noblest in the land may suffer unless some way be found out of this horrible affair.”

“Please compose yourself, sir,” I said, “and let me have a clear account of who you are and what it is that has befallen you.”

     “My name,” answered our visitor, “is probably familiar to your ears. I am Rana Bajaj, of the investment firm of Sunbeam Enterprises, at D-12 market.”

The name was indeed well known to us as belonging to the senior partner in the second largest private investment business concern in the metropolitan city. What could have happened, then, to bring one of the foremost citizens of New Delhi to this most pitiable pass? We waited, all curiosity, until with another effort he braced himself to tell his story.

“I feel that time is of value,” said he; “That is why I hastened here when the police inspector named Nikhil suggested that I should secure your co-operation. I came to you by the Underground and hurried from there on foot, for the cabs go slowly through this rain. That is why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who takes very little exercise. I feel better now, and I will put the facts before you as shortly and yet as clearly as I can.

     “It is, of course, well known to you that in a successful investment business as much depends upon our being able to find remunerative investments for our funds as upon our increasing our connection and the number of our depositors. One of our most lucrative means of laying out money is in the shape of loans, where the security is unimpeachable. We have done a good deal in this direction during the last few years, and there are many noble families to whom we have advanced large sums upon the security of their pictures, libraries, or plate.

    “Yesterday morning I was seated in my office at the bank when a card was brought in to me by one of the clerks. I started when I saw the name, for

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 01.05.2016
ISBN: 978-3-7396-5148-4

Alle Rechte vorbehalten