has placed on his eyes from the time when the Magistrate, the slave of the Indigo Planters, ordered him to be kept in the prison, that hand he has not yet removed. The hand is filled with the tears; and the place where he was made to sit down at first, is still that where he now is. Being entirely silent, and remaining weak in body and without power to move, he is become like a dead pigeon in this cage-like prison. This day is the fourth, and to-day I must make him take food. You had better go home, and I shall send a letter every day.
Nobin. O God, what great sorrow art thou giving to our father! If they do allow you, my dear Bindu, to remain day and night in the prison; then can I quietly go to our house.
Sadhu. Let me steal, and you bring me before the Court as a thief. I will make the confession; they will put me in prison; then I will be best able to serve my master.
Nobin. O Sadhu! Thou art the actual Sadhu (the honest man). Ah! you are now very sorry on learning the deadly sorrow of Khetromani; and the sooner I can take you home the better.
Sadhu. (Deep sigh.) My eldest Babu! Shall I see my daughter on my return. I have none other.
Bindu. If you make her take that draught which I gave you, she must be cured by that. The Doctor heard every particular of her disease, and has given that medicine.
Enter the Deputy Inspector.
D. Inspector. Bindu Babu, Mr. Commissioner has written very urgently about releasing your father.
Bindu. There is no doubt the Lieutenant-Governor will grant him release.
Nobin. After what time can the notice of the release come?
Bindu. It will not be more than fifteen days.
