Редьярд Джозеф Киплинг

Vampires vs. Werewolves – Ultimate Collection


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who had been greatly edified by the tale, forgot himself, and ejaculated, “The Thief’s.”

      “And pray why?” asked the Baital.

      “Because,” the hero explained, “when her husband saw that she loved another man, however purely, he ceased to feel affection for her. Somdatt let her go unharmed, for fear of being punished by the king. But there was no reason why the thief should fear the law and dismiss her; therefore he was the best.”

      “Hi! hi! hi!” laughed the demon, spitefully. “Here, then, ends my story.”

      Upon which, escaping as before from the cloth in which he was slung behind the Raja’s back, the Baital disappeared through the darkness of the night, leaving father and son looking at each other in dismay.

      “Son Dharma Dhwaj,” quoth the great Vikram, “the next time when that villain Vampire asks me a question, I allow thee to take the liberty of pinching my arm even before I have had time to answer his questions. In this way we shall never, of a truth, end our task.”

      “Your words be upon my head, sire,” replied the young prince. But he expected no good from his father’s new plan, as, arrived under the sires-tree, he heard the Baital laughing with all his might.

      “Surely he is laughing at our beards, sire,” said the beardless prince, who hated to be laughed at like a young person.

      “Let them laugh that win,” fiercely cried Raja Vikram, who hated to be laughed at like an elderly person.

      * * * * * * *

      The Vampire lost no time in opening a fresh story.

      THE VAMPIRE’S FIFTH STORY

       —Of the Thief Who Laughed and Wept.

       Table of Contents

      Your majesty (quoth the demon, with unusual politeness), there is a country called Malaya, on the western coast of the land of Bharat—you see that I am particular in specifying the place—and in it was a city known as Chandrodaya, whose king was named Randhir.

      Amongst his officers was Gunshankar, a magistrate of police, who, curious to say, was as honest as he was just. He administered equity with as much care before as after dinner; he took no bribes even in the matter of advancing his family; he was rather merciful than otherwise to the poor, and he never punished the rich ostentatiously, in order to display his and his law’s disrespect for persons. Besides which, when sitting on the carpet of justice, he did not, as some Kotwals do, use rough or angry language to those who cannot reply; nor did he take offence when none was intended.

      All the people of the city Chandrodaya, in the province of Malaya, on the western coast of Bharatland, loved and esteemed this excellent magistrate; which did not, however, prevent thefts being committed so frequently and so regularly, that no one felt his property secure. At last the merchants who had suffered most from these depredations went in a body before Gunshankar, and said to him:

      “O flower of the law! robbers have exercised great tyranny upon us, so great indeed that we can no longer stay in this city.”

      Then the magistrate replied, “What has happened, has happened. But in future you shall be free from annoyance. I will make due preparation for these thieves.”

      People in numbers began to mount guard throughout the city every night, but, notwithstanding this, robberies continued to be committed. After a time all the merchants having again met together went before the magistrate, and said, “O incarnation of justice! you have changed your officers, you have hired watchmen, and you have established patrols: nevertheless the thieves have not diminished, and plundering is ever taking place.”

      Thereupon Gunshankar carried them to the palace, and made them lay their petition at the feet of the king Randhir. That Raja, having consoled them, sent them home, saying, “Be ye of good cheer. I will to-night adopt a new plan, which, with the blessing of the Bhagwan, shall free ye from further anxiety.”

      Observe, O Vikram, that Randhir was one of those concerning whom the poet sang—

      The unwise run from one end to the other.

      Not content with becoming highly respectable, correct, and even unimpeachable in point of character, he reformed even his reformation, and he did much more than he was required to do.

      When Canopus began to sparkle gaily in the southern skies, the king arose and prepared for a night’s work. He disguised his face by smearing it with a certain paint, by twirling his moustachios up to his eyes, by parting his beard upon his chin, and conducting the two ends towards his ears, and by tightly tying a hair from a horse’s tail over his nose, so as quite to change its shape. He then wrapped himself in a coarse outer garment, girt his loins, buckled on his sword, drew his shield upon his arm, and without saying a word to those within the palace, he went out into the streets alone, and on foot.

      It was dark, and Raja Randhir walked through the silent city for nearly an hour without meeting anyone. As, however, he passed through a back street in the merchants’ quarter, he saw what appeared to be a homeless dog, lying at the foot of a house-wall. He approached it, and up leaped a human figure, whilst a loud voice cried, “Who art thou?”

      Randhir replied, “I am a thief; who art thou?”