THE DEPUTY MAGISTRATE
"Be brave," she said encouragingly, "for my sake see if you cannot elude them."
With tender hands she arranged the saree, draping it well over his head to conceal his face. Then giving him a ghurra (water vessel) told him to pretend that he was going to fetch water from the river. Cheered by her courage, he caught her to his heart in a mute farewell, and her prayers went with him.
He had not gone far from the house when cries arose of "There he is!" But some one shouted: "It is a woman. Look elsewhere." And he passed slowly to the river. Here he flung the brass ghurra far out into the stream and ran for his life along the bank. No sounds of pursuit followed him, and he now gained courage enough to form a plan of escape. Not far from his father-in-law's village was a small police station. Thither he bent his steps and asked protection of its solitary occupant.
The man recognised him and asked: "Deputy Saheb, why are you here? What is wrong?"
The Magistrate told him of the dacoits and of his escape. "Dacoits after you!" said the policeman and looked grave. "Sir, I cannot help you.
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