114
THE WRECK
Ramesh. "Supposing I were Chet Singh and you were Chandra."
Kamala. "please don't say that sort of thing to me! 1 don't like it
Ramesh. "Well, but I must say it. What would be my duty in that case and what would be yours?"
Kamala did not answer this question. Instead, she rose abruptly from her chair and left him. She came upon Umesh sitting at the door of their cabin in silent contemplation of the river.
"Umesh, have you ever seen a ghost?" she asked.
"Yes, mother, I have."
"What kind of a ghost was it? Tell me about it," and she drew up a cane stool and sat down beside him.
Left to himself Ramesh decided not to call Kamala back, for there was no doubt that she was seriously annoyed. The tiny wisp of the new moon disappeared from view behind the bamboo clumps. The lights on the deck had been extinguished and the ship's com- pany had retired below for food and rest. There were no other cabin passengers and the bulk of the third- class folk had dropped over the steamer's side and waded ashore to cook their supper on the bank. Land- ward the lights of the village street shone here and there between the thickets. The strong current in mid- Stream tugged at the anchor chain, and now and then a throb of the great river's pulse set the whole steamer vibrating. In this strange environment, under the vast canopy of the night-sky, Ramesh strove hard to solve the knotty problem that his conscience set him. Clearly, he must give up either Kamala or Hemnalini ; there was no possible compromise by which he could retain both in his life. Nor was there any doubt which way duty pointed. Hemnalini had alternatives; she could dismiss him from her mind and give her hand to
Digitized by Google
