'Just there—from that part to this—all this is the cremation-ground. They drop the body wherever is most convenient, take a bath over there under the banyan tree, and go home. Cheer up! that's only jackals fighting. Well then, come and sit near me here.'
I was too frightened to speak; I went sprawling on all fours and sank down heavily near him. 'What are you afraid of, Srikanta?' he asked, putting out his hands to me. 'I have passed by this way on many a night. Do you think anybody would dare to come near you if you took the name of Rama?'
His touch seemed to infuse some life into my body, 'For God's sake,' I said faintly, 'don't get down here—let us pass straight on.'
He touched me again on the shoulder as he said, 'No, Srikanta, I must go there now. I must give them this money; they have been looking forward to it, and I haven't been able to come to them for the last three days.'
'But couldn't you do it to-morrow?'
'No, don't ask me to. You come with me, but mind you don't speak of it to anyone.'
I assented vaguely and sat still as a statue, never once releasing my hold of him. My throat had dried up, and I had not the energy left to reach forward to the water or to make any other movement.
We were now passing under the shadow of trees, and I could see the place where we had to alight, as it had no trees overhead. It was lit up with the wan moonlight; this was some consolation, in the condition of mind I was in. Just as the canoe was going to dash against the gravelly bank, Indra stepped up on the prow and jumped
