after Ranchi, I shall find the air of this place sufficient of a change.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ said he. ‘More than you bargain for. But where will you stay here?’
Pointing to the tumble-down house above the ghât, I said: ‘There.’
I think my friend had a suspicion that I had come in search of hidden treasure. However, he did not pursue the subject. He only began to describe to me what had happened in this ruined building some fifteen years before.
I found that he was the schoolmaster of the place. From beneath an enormous bald head, his two eyes shone out from their sockets with an unnatural brightness in a face that was thin with hunger and illness.
The boatmen, having finished their evening prayer, turned their attention to their cooking. As the last light of the day faded, the dark and empty house stood silent and ghostly above the deserted ghât.
‘The schoolmaster said: ‘Nearly ten years ago, when I came to this place, Bhusan Saha used to live in this house. He was the heir to the large property and business of his uncle Durga Saha, who was childless.
