“Now” he said, “you will masticate the rice for a minute thoroughly and then drop the result on your leaves.  I warn you that it will be deadly poison for the thief.”  All obeyed with alacrity, and Gobardhan, after examining the contents of each leaf, assured Jadu Babu that the jasam had not been stolen.

My readers who are versed in science will understand that, in point of fact, there is nothing magical about this rite, which is based on the circumstance that fear checks the flow of saliva.  In all probability a thief would eject the rice absolutely dry.

The inference was that the jasam had been mislaid; and Jadu Babu asked whether Gobardhan’s lore was equal to recovering it.

“Possibly,” answered the astrologer, “but it is not a case of Bati Chala; if you can guarantee me Rs. 10, I will perform Nakha Darpan (literally ’nail-mirror’).  Let me have an almanac, please, to find an auspicious day.”

After examining it and receiving a ten-rupee note from Jadu Babu, the astrologer said oracularly that he would return on the following afternoon, with a lad of twelve, who had been born under the Constellation of the Scales.

At the appointed hour, Gobardhan came accompanied by his acolyte, with whom he sat down at the Chandimandab (a shrine of the goddess Durga, found in most Hindu houses, which serves for social gatherings).  Jadu Babu and the bhadra-lok (gentle-folk) took their seats there too, while the underlings formed a respectful half-circle in front.  Adjuring all to keep perfect silence, he asked the lad to gaze into the nail on his own right index finger and tell the people what he saw there.  After staring at it for a minute or so, the boy began to tremble violently and whispered:  “I see a mango-tope (orchard); a little girl is playing with her kitten under the trees.  Now I see her slipping a jasam from her arm, the kitten frisks about, and the child follows it; now it disappears, and the child runs indoors.”  Then, raising his voice to a shrill scream, he pointed with his left hand to the north and asked:—­

“What are those animals which are prowling in the orchard?  Are they dogs?  No—­they are jackals—­one, two, three jackals!  They pounce on the kitten, and tear her limb from limb!  Now everything is growing hazy; I can’t see any more!”

A thrill of fear ran through the audience, and one might have heard a pin drop.  At length Gobardhan broke the silence:—­

“Let us go to the mango-tope north of this house,” he said solemnly.

Thither they hurried and, after a few minutes’ search, one of the maidservants cried out that she had found the jasam half-hidden by the gnarled roots of a tree.

Jadu Babu was overjoyed by the recovery of his missing jewel, and pressed another fee of ten rupees on the astrologer.  As for Gobardhan, his fame spread far and wide, and his hut was rarely without some client, eager to learn the future.