let the priests teach me their religion because it is by religion that they
govern people. And the priests," she laughed, "are much more foolish
than the fools they entice and frighten. But the priests have power.
Gungadhura is fearfully afraid of them. The high priest of the temple
of Jinendra pretends to him that he can discover where the treasure is
hidden, so Gungadhura makes daily offerings and the priest grows
very fat."

"Who taught you such good English?" Tess asked her; for there was
hardly even a trace of foreign accent, nor the least hesitation for a word.

"Father Bernard, a Jesuit. My mother sent for him, and he came every
day, year after year. He had a little chapel in Sialpore where a few of
the very low-caste people used to go to pray and make confessions
to him. That should have given him great power; but the people of
this land never confess completely, as he told me the Europeans do,
preferring to tell lies about one another rather than the truth about themselves.
I refused to be baptized because I was tired of him, and after my mother
died and she was burned with the Hindu ritual, he received orders to
go elsewhere. Now there is another Jesuit, but he only has a little following
among the English, and can not get to see me because I hide behind
the purdah. The purdah is good--if you know how to make use of it
and not be ruled by it."

They were still in the window, Yasmini kneeling on the cushions with her
face in shadow and Tess with her back to the light.

"Ah! Hasamurti comes!" said Yasmini suddenly. "She is my cheti."
(Hand-maiden.)