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Updated: June 25, 2025
"'And now began the change in our friends. Baji Lal ceased to come to our village meetings, and Devaka shunned every woman, even her most intimate friends. For a while this strange behaviour did not attract special attention, although noted and commented on afterwards.
"'Well, all went right until, just as we neared this village I fell sick as I now believe, through the agency of my faithless attendant, who would have poisoned me so that he might possess himself of the precious harp. Fortunately I was succoured by our good friend, Baji Lal, and nursed back to health by him and his devoted wife Devaka.
"When we got within clear view of the house, I saw that faggots had been placed all around it, and that these were already alight, giving forth the smoke we had seen from a distance. I looked about me in dread. Where were Baji Lal and Devaka? I questioned a man who was blocking my way. He turned round, and, to my joy, I recognized Bimjee, the barber.
"Neighbours vied with each other in offers of help. Baji Lal and Devaka were taken to one house. Sheikh Ahmed and myself went to another. The barber had recovered, and had quietly departed for his own home. "Next day I sent round word that all the villagers were to come to the usual place of public gathering, the widespread pipul tree.
"But on the occasion of one of my periodical visits judge of my surprise when I was received in silence and with apathy that made no pretence at disguise. Devaka did not rise from her cushions on the floor to bid me welcome, and her husband, similarly irresponsive, returned my customary cordial greeting with nothing better than a look of wearied dejection.
When the tale was ended, Devaka threw herself prone at my feet, and pressed her lips to the hem of my robe. I was touched by her silent beseeching, though I hastily, and I fear roughly, commanded her to arise. "'Dear friends, I said, 'this is indeed an extraordinary occurrence. And how I can help you is more than I at present know.
The brave man who had sunk to the ground in a heap was not Sheikh Ahmed, but Bimjee, the village barber! "Hastily consigning Devaka to the care of women standing by, I hurried forward. "'Sheikh Ahmed is in that house, I cried, 'probably overpowered by the smoke. We must save him. Who will come with me? "All remained silent. Then some one called out: "'It is no use, Chunda Das.
I kept close by their side, and when we gained the constable's house and the staked enclosure that served as a place of detention, I too passed within, leaving the leaders of the crowd to guard the gateway. "When we were alone, Baji Lal and Devaka threw themselves at my feet, and thanked me for the aid I had rendered them.
I got up and looked around, and so did Devaka, for she is brave, my wife. But we could not find anything to account for the disconcerting sound. "'We sat down again, but before long we heard once more the wailing cry, louder now and more prolonged. We started up, and this time went outside in spite of the rain carried by the lashing wind. However, we could discover no one neither man nor beast.
"And, throwing a long gold chain around the neck of Devaka, the Sheikh bowed to the company, and, with salaams of farewell, passed through the throng, toward his escort waiting for him all ready mounted at a little distance. Soon there was the clatter of hoofs, and they were riding away across the plain.
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