He was in despair and walked up and down, trying in vain to think of some way of escape.  “I shall die here of starvation, unless my wife finds some means of setting me free,” he said.  “I wish I had treated her better instead of being so sulky with her.”  He tried the bars of the window, but they were very strong:  he could not hope to move them.  And he beat against the door, but no notice was taken of that.

9.  What lesson does the trouble Hari-Sarman was in teach?

10.  Do you think it would have been better for him to tell the king he could not reveal secrets?

CHAPTER VI

When it got quite dark in the prison, Hari-Sarman began to talk to himself aloud.  “Oh,” he said, “I wish I had bitten my tongue out before I told that lie about the mare.  It is all my foolish tongue which has got me into this trouble.  Tongue!  Tongue!” he went on, “it is all your fault.”

Now a very strange thing happened.  The money and jewels had been stolen by a man, who had been told where they were by a young servant girl in the palace whose name was Jihva, which is the Sanskrit word for tongue; and this girl was in a great fright when she heard that a revealer of secrets had been taken before the king.  “He will tell of my share in the matter,” she thought, “and I shall get into trouble,” It so happened that the guard at the prison door was fond of her, as well as the thief who had stolen the money and jewels.  So when all was quiet in the palace, Jihva slipped away to see if she could get that guard to let her see the prisoner.  “If I promise to give him part of the money,” she thought, “he will undertake not to betray me.”

The guard was glad enough when Jihva came to talk to him, and he let her listen at the key-hole to what Hari-Sarman was saying.  Just imagine her astonishment when she heard him repeating her name again and again.  “Jihva!  Jihva!  Thou,” he cried, “art the cause of this suffering.  Why didst thou behave in such a foolish manner, just for the sake of the good things of this life?  Never can I forgive thee, Jihva, thou wicked, wicked one!”

“Oh! oh!” cried Jihva in an agony of terror, “he knows the truth; he knows that I helped the thief.”  And she entreated the guard to let her into the prison that she might plead with Hari-Sarman. not to tell the king what she had done.  The man hesitated at first, but in the end she persuaded him to consent by promising him a large reward.

When the key grated in the lock, Hari-Sarman stopped talking aloud, wondering whether what he had been saying had been overheard by the guard, and half hoping that his wife had got leave to come and see him.  As the door opened and he saw a woman coming in by the light of a lantern held up by the guard, he cried, “Vidya my beloved!” But he soon realized that it was a stranger.  He was indeed surprised and relieved, when Jihva suddenly threw herself at his feet and, clinging to his knees, began to weep and moan “Oh, most holy man,” she cried between her sobs, “who knowest the very secrets of the heart, I have come to confess that it was indeed I, Jihva, your humble servant, who aided the thief to take the jewels and the gold and to hide them beneath the big pomegranate tree behind the palace.”