Punchi Menika had spoken in a very low voice, very slowly. Fernando stood looking at her. For a moment he was affected by the resignation and sadness of her tone. Then he thought he had been a fool to lose his temper and threaten openly. But how could one deal with cattle like these people? He began to grow angry again, but he recognised that it was useless and dangerous further to show his anger and disappointment. He returned without another word to his house.
His failure astonished him almost more than it annoyed him. His first thought was to approach Babun himself. Probably the woman was only frightened of her husband, and probably the husband would see more clearly the advantages to be gained by giving his consent. But Fernando had lost a good deal of his confidence; he felt the need of an adviser and ally. There could be no danger in consulting the headman. In any case it would be dangerous for Babehami to oppose him, and there was every reason to believe that Babehami would be only too glad of an opportunity of working against Babun and Punchi Menika.
Next day, after he had eaten the evening meal, in the headman's house, and while he was sitting in the compound with Babehami, chewing betel, he opened the subject.
'I thought to get your wife's brother to oversee my chenas. He is a good man, I think.'
'One twentieth of the crop. He is a good man to work.'
'He is a good worker. His chena is always the best, but he is a fool. He has brought disgrace upon us.'
'No. He went to her father's house and lives there with her.'
'It would be a good thing to take him from them. Is he not tired of her now?'
'He was mad about her. He would not listen to reason.'
'Ah, but that was at first, long ago. They say the man first finds heaven in a woman, later in a field, and last in the temple. Would you like to get him back to your house?'
'Well, why not?' Fernando moved nearer to Babehami and lowered his voice. 'Ralahami, I must live here some months. Without a woman what comfort in a house? The woman is not ill-looking and could cook my meals for me. I had thought of this for some days, so I sent my servant boy to her. She answered that she would come, but she was afraid of her man. Then I thought of speaking to the man, but it is not easy for a stranger. I thought, if he marries this woman it is a disgrace to the headman. It is better that his friends speak to him. Probably he is tired of the woman, and will marry from another village some girl who has a dowry of land.'