11. Ram Dass

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

　　There were fine sunsets even in the square, sometimes. Onecould only see parts of them, however, between the chimneys andover the roofs. From the kitchen windows one could not see themat all, and could only guess that they were going on because thebricks looked warm and the air rosy or yellow for a while, orperhaps one saw a blazing glow strike a particular pane of glasssomewhere. There was, however, one place from which one couldsee all the splendor of them: the piles of red or gold clouds inthe west; or the purple ones edged with dazzling brightness; orthe little fleecy, floating ones, tinged with rose-color andlooking like flights of pink doves scurrying across the blue in agreat hurry if there was a wind. The place where one could seeall this, and seem at the same time to breathe a purer air, was,of course, the attic window. When the square suddenly seemed tobegin to glow in an enchanted way and look wonderful in spite ofits sooty trees and railings, Sara knew something was going on inthe sky; and when it was at all possible to leave the kitchenwithout being missed or called back, she invariably stole awayand crept up the flights of stairs, and, climbing on the oldtable, got her head and body as far out of the window aspossible. When she had accomplished this, she always drew a longbreath and looked all round her. It used to seem as if she hadall the sky and the world to herself. No one else ever lookedout of the other attics. Generally the skylights were closed;but even if they were propped open to admit air, no one seemed tocome near them. And there Sara would stand, sometimes turningher face upward to the blue which seemed so friendly and near--just like a lovely vaulted ceiling--sometimes watching the westand all the wonderful things that happened there: the cloudsmelting or drifting or waiting softly to be changed pink orcrimson or snow-white or purple or pale dove-gray. Sometimes theymade islands or great mountains enclosing lakes of deep turquoise-blue, or liquid amber, or chrysoprase-green; sometimes darkheadlands jutted into strange, lost seas; sometimes slenderstrips of wonderful lands joined other wonderful lands together.There were places where it seemed that one could run or climb orstand and wait to see what next was coming--until, perhaps, as itall melted, one could float away. At least it seemed so to Sara,and nothing had ever been quite so beautiful to her as the thingsshe saw as she stood on the table--her body half out of theskylight--the sparrows twittering with sunset softness on theslates. The sparrows always seemed to her to twitter with a sortof subdued softness just when these marvels were going on.There was such a sunset as this a few days after the Indiangentleman was brought to his new home; and, as it fortunatelyhappened that the afternoon's work was done in the kitchen andnobody had ordered her to go anywhere or perform any task, Sarafound it easier than usual to slip away and go upstairs.She mounted her table and stood looking out. It was awonderful moment. There were floods of molten gold covering thewest, as if a glorious tide was sweeping over the world. A deep,rich yellow light filled the air; the birds flying across thetops of the houses showed quite black against it."It's a Splendid one," said Sara, softly, to herself. "It makesme feel almost afraid--as if something strange was just going tohappen. The Splendid ones always make me feel like that."She suddenly turned her head because she heard a sound a fewyards away from her. It was an odd sound like a queer littlesqueaky chattering. It came from the window of the next attic.Someone had come to look at the sunset as she had. There was ahead and a part of a body emerging from the skylight, but it wasnot the head or body of a little girl or a housemaid; it was thepicturesque white-swathed form and dark-faced, gleaming-eyed,white-turbaned head of a native Indian man-servant--"a Lascar,"Sara said to herself quickly--and the sound she had heard camefrom a small monkey he held in his arms as if he were fond ofit, and which was snuggling and chattering against his breast.As Sara looked toward him he looked toward her. The first thingshe thought was that his dark face looked sorrowful andhomesick. She felt absolutely sure he had come up to look at thesun, because he had seen it so seldom in England that he longedfor a sight of it. She looked at him interestedly for a second,and then smiled across the slates. She had learned to know howcomforting a smile, even from a stranger, may be.Hers was evidently a pleasure to him. His whole expressionaltered, and he showed such gleaming white teeth as he smiledback that it was as if a light had been illuminated in his duskyface. The friendly look in Sara's eyes was always very effectivewhen people felt tired or dull.It was perhaps in making his salute to her that he loosened hishold on the monkey. He was an impish monkey and always ready foradventure, and it is probable that the sight of a little girlexcited him. He suddenly broke loose, jumped on to the slates,ran across them chattering, and actually leaped on to Sara'sshoulder, and from there down into her attic room. It made herlaugh and delighted her; but she knew he must be restored to hismaster--if the Lascar was his master--and she wondered how thiswas to be done. Would he let her catch him, or would he benaughty and refuse to be caught, and perhaps get away and run offover the roofs and be lost? That would not do at all. Perhapshe belonged to the Indian gentleman, and the poor man was fond ofhim.She turned to the Lascar, feeling glad that she remembered stillsome of the Hindustani she had learned when she lived with herfather. She could make the man understand. She spoke to him inthe language he knew."Will he let me catch him?" she asked.She thought she had never seen more surprise and delight than thedark face expressed when she spoke in the familiar tongue. Thetruth was that the poor fellow felt as if his gods hadintervened, and the kind little voice came from heaven itself.At once Sara saw that he had been accustomed to Europeanchildren. He poured forth a flood of respectful thanks. He wasthe servant of Missee Sahib. The monkey was a good monkey andwould not bite; but, unfortunately, he was difficult to catch.He would flee from one spot to another, like the lightning. Hewas disobedient, though not evil. Ram Dass knew him as if hewere his child, and Ram Dass he would sometimes obey, but notalways. If Missee Sahib would permit Ram Dass, he himself couldcross the roof to her room, enter the windows, and regain theunworthy little animal. But he was evidently afraid Sara mightthink he was taking a great liberty and perhaps would not let himcome.But Sara gave him leave at once."Can you get across?" she inquired."In a moment," he answered her."Then come," she said; "he is flying from side to side of theroom as if he was frightened."Ram Dass slipped through his attic window and crossed to hers assteadily and lightly as if he had walked on roofs all his life.He slipped through the skylight and dropped upon his feetwithout a sound. Then he turned to Sara and salaamed again. Themonkey saw him and uttered a little scream. Ram Dass hastilytook the precaution of shutting the skylight, and then went inchase of him. It was not a very long chase. The monkeyprolonged it a few minutes evidently for the mere fun of it, butpresently he sprang chattering on to Ram Dass's shoulder and satthere chattering and clinging to his neck with a weird littleskinny arm.Ram Dass thanked Sara profoundly. She had seen that his quicknative eyes had taken in at a glance all the bare shabbiness ofthe room, but he spoke to her as if he were speaking to thelittle daughter of a rajah, and pretended that he observednothing. He did not presume to remain more than a few momentsafter he had caught the monkey, and those moments were given tofurther deep and grateful obeisance to her in return for herindulgence. This little evil one, he said, stroking the monkey,was, in truth, not so evil as he seemed, and his master, who wasill, was sometimes amused by him. He would have been made sad ifhis favorite had run away and been lost. Then he salaamed oncemore and got through the skylight and across the slates againwith as much agility as the monkey himself had displayed.When he had gone Sara stood in the middle of her attic andthought of many things his face and his manner had brought backto her. The sight of his native costume and the profoundreverence of his manner stirred all her past memories. It seemeda strange thing to remember that she--the drudge whom the cookhad said insulting things to an hour ago--had only a few yearsago been surrounded by people who all treated her as Ram Dass hadtreated her; who salaamed when she went by, whose foreheadsalmost touched the ground when she spoke to them, who were herservants and her slaves. It was like a sort of dream. It wasall over, and it could never come back. It certainly seemed thatthere was no way in which any change could take place. She knewwhat Miss Minchin intended that her future should be. So long asshe was too young to be used as a regular teacher, she would beused as an errand girl and servant and yet expected to rememberwhat she had learned and in some mysterious way to learn more.The greater number of her evenings she was supposed to spend atstudy, and at various indefinite intervals she was examined andknew she would have been severely admonished if she had notadvanced as was expected of her. The truth, indeed, was thatMiss Minchin knew that she was too anxious to learn to requireteachers. Give her books, and she would devour them and end byknowing them by heart. She might be trusted to be equal toteaching a good deal in the course of a few years. This was whatwould happen: when she was older she would be expected to drudgein the schoolroom as she drudged now in various parts of thehouse; they would be obliged to give her more respectableclothes, but they would be sure to be plain and ugly and to makeher look somehow like a servant. That was all there seemed to beto look forward to, and Sara stood quite still for severalminutes and thought it over.Then a thought came back to her which made the color rise in hercheek and a spark light itself in her eyes. She straightened herthin little body and lifted her head."Whatever comes," she said, "cannot alter one thing. If I am aprincess in rags and tatters, I can be a princess inside. Itwould be easy to be a princess if I were dressed in cloth ofgold, but it is a great deal more of a triumph to be one all thetime when no one knows it. There was Marie Antoinette when shewas in prison and her throne was gone and she had only a blackgown on, and her hair was white, and they insulted her and calledher Widow Capet. She was a great deal more like a queen thenthan when she was so gay and everything was so grand. I like herbest then. Those howling mobs of people did not frighten her.She was stronger than they were, even when they cut her headoff."This was not a new thought, but quite an old one, by this time.It had consoled her through many a bitter day, and she had goneabout the house with an expression in her face which Miss Minchincould not understand and which was a source of great annoyance toher, as it seemed as if the child were mentally living a lifewhich held her above he rest of the world. It was as if shescarcely heard the rude and acid things said to her; or, if sheheard them, did not care for them at all. Sometimes, when shewas in the midst of some harsh, domineering speech, Miss Minchinwould find the still, unchildish eyes fixed upon her withsomething like a proud smile in them. At such times she did notknow that Sara was saying to herself:"You don't know that you are saying these things to a princess,and that if I chose I could wave my hand and order you toexecution. I only spare you because I am a princess, and you area poor, stupid, unkind, vulgar old thing, and don't know anybetter."This used to interest and amuse her more than anything else; andqueer and fanciful as it was, she found comfort in it and it wasa good thing for her. While the thought held possession of her,she could not be made rude and malicious by the rudeness andmalice of those about her."A princess must be polite," she said to herself.And so when the servants, taking their tone from their mistress,were insolent and ordered her about, she would hold her headerect and reply to them with a quaint civility which often madethem stare at her."She's got more airs and graces than if she come from BuckinghamPalace, that young one," said the cook, chuckling a littlesometimes. "I lose my temper with her often enough, but I willsay she never forgets her manners. `If you please, cook'; `Willyou be so kind, cook?' `I beg your pardon, cook'; `May I troubleyou, cook?' She drops 'em about the kitchen as if they wasnothing."The morning after the interview with Ram Dass and his monkey,Sara was in the schoolroom with her small pupils. Havingfinished giving them their lessons, she was putting the Frenchexercise-books together and thinking, as she did it, of thevarious things royal personages in disguise were called upon todo: Alfred the Great, for instance, burning the cakes andgetting his ears boxed by the wife of the neat-herd. Howfrightened she must have been when she found out what she haddone. If Miss Minchin should find out that she--Sara, whose toeswere almost sticking out of her boots--was a princess--a realone! The look in her eyes was exactly the look which MissMinchin most disliked. She would not have it; she was quite nearher and was so enraged that she actually flew at her and boxedher ears--exactly as the neat-herd's wife had boxed KingAlfred's. It made Sara start. She wakened from her dream at theshock, and, catching her breath, stood still a second. Then, notknowing she was going to do it, she broke into a little laugh."What are you laughing at, you bold, impudent child?" MissMinchin exclaimed.It took Sara a few seconds to control herself sufficiently toremember that she was a princess. Her cheeks were red andsmarting from the blows she had received."I was thinking," she answered."Beg my pardon immediately," said Miss Minchin.Sara hesitated a second before she replied."I will beg your pardon for laughing, if it was rude," she saidthen; "but I won't beg your pardon for thinking.""What were you thinking?" demanded Miss Minchin."How dare you think? What were you thinking?"Jessie tittered, and she and Lavinia nudged each other inunison. All the girls looked up from their books to listen.Really, it always interested them a little when Miss Minchinattacked Sara. Sara always said something queer, and neverseemed the least bit frightened. She was not in the leastfrightened now, though her boxed ears were scarlet and her eyeswere as bright as stars."I was thinking," she answered grandly and politely, "that youdid not know what you were doing.""That I did not know what I was doing?" Miss Minchin fairlygasped."Yes," said Sara, "and I was thinking what would happen if I werea princess and you boxed my ears--what I should do to you. And Iwas thinking that if I were one, you would never dare to do it,whatever I said or did. And I was thinking how surprised andfrightened you would be if you suddenly found out--"She had the imagined future so clearly before her eyes that shespoke in a manner which had an effect even upon Miss Minchin. Italmost seemed for the moment to her narrow, unimaginative mindthat there must be some real power hidden behind this candiddaring."What?" she exclaimed. "Found out what?""That I really was a princess," said Sara, "and could doanything--anything I liked."Every pair of eyes in the room widened to its full limit.Lavinia leaned forward on her seat to look."Go to your room," cried Miss Minchin, breathlessly, "thisinstant! Leave the schoolroom! Attend to your lessons, youngladies!"Sara made a little bow."Excuse me for laughing if it was impolite," she said, andwalked out of the room, leaving Miss Minchin struggling with herrage, and the girls whispering over their books."Did you see her? Did you see how queer she looked?" Jessiebroke out. "I shouldn't be at all surprised if she did turn outto be something. Suppose she should!"