his zid increased the more. For the sake of his all, he staked all that was his.
One afternoon, Mirza Bibi collected some fruits and vegetables from her little garden and unbeknown to her son went and sought an interview with Bepin Babu. She looked at him with a tenderness maternal in its intensity and spoke—"May Allah bless you, my son. Do not destroy Asim—it wouldn't be right of you. To your charge I commit him. Take him as though he were one whom it is your duty to support—as though he were a ne'er-do-weel younger brother of yours. Vast is your wealth—don't grudge him a small particle of it, my son."
This assumption of familiarity on the part of the garrulous old woman annoyed Bepin not a little. "What do you know of these things, my good woman?"—he condescended to say—"If you have any representations to make, send your son to me."
Being assured for the second time that she knew nothing about these affairs, Mirza Bibi returned home wiping her eyes with her apron all the way and offering her silent prayers to Allah.
III
The litigation dragged its weary length from the Criminal to the Civil Courts and thence to the High Court, where at last Asimuddin met with a partial success. Eighteen months passed in this way. But he was a ruined man now—plunged in debts up to his very ears. His creditors took this opportunity to execute the decrees they had obtained against him. A date was fixed for putting up to auction every stick and stone that he had left.
It was Monday;—the village market had assembled by the side of a tiny river, now swollen by the rains. Buying and selling was going on partly on the bank and partly in the boats moored there. The hubub was great. Among the commodities for sale, jack-fruits preponderated, it being the month of Asadh. Hilsa fish were seen in large quantities also. The sky was cloudy. Many of the stall-holders, apprehending a downpour, had stretched a piece of cloth overhead, across bamboo poles put up for the purpose.
Asimuddin had come too—but he had not a copper with him. No shopkeepers allowed him credit now a days. He therefore had brought a brass thali and a dao with him. These he would pawn and then buy his necessaries.
Towards evening, Bepin Babu was out for a walk attended by two or three retainers armed with lathis. Attracted by the noise, he directed his steps towards the market. Getting there, he stepped awhile before the stall of Dwari the oilman, and made kindly enquires about his business. All on a sudden Asimuddin raised his dao and ran towards Bepin Babu, roaring like a tiger. The market people caught hold of him half way and quickly disarmed him. He was forthwith given in custody of the Police. Business in the market then went on as usual.
We cannot say that Bepin Babu was not inwardly pleased at this incident. It is intolerable that the creature we are hunting down should turn round and show fight. "The budmash"—Bepin chuckled—"I have got him at last."
The ladies of Bepin Babu's house, when they heard the news, exclaimed with horror,—"O the ruffian! What a mercy they seized him in time." They found consolation at the prospect of the man being punished as he richly deserved.
In another part of the village the same evening the widow's humble cottage, devoid of bread and bereft of her son, became darker than death. Others dismissed the incident of the afternoon from their minds, sat down to their meals, retired to bed and went to sleep, but to the widow the event loomed larger than anything else in this wide world. But alas, who was there to combat it—only a bundle of wearied bones and a helpless mother's heart trembling with fear.
IV
Three days have passed in the meanwhile. To-morrow the case will come up for trial before a Deputy Magistrate. Bepin Babu will have to be examined as a witness. Never before this did a zemindar of jhikrakota appear in the witness-box, but Bepin did not mind.
The next day at the appointed hour, Bepin Babu arrived at the Court in a palanquin in great state. He wore a turban on his head and a watch-chain dangled on his
