and decked with jewels, was within. From an upper window the master
of the house answered them, while the girl and her kindly hostess
listened anxiously downstairs. The pseudo palki-bearers next informed
the listeners that they were the servants of a very wealthy man and
had been conveying his daughter to her parents-in-law's house.

"But" they boldly declared, "our master's daughter is such a
troublesome girl. She causes us much anxiety whenever she is sent to
visit her mother-in-law. She is so unwilling to go that it is with
great difficulty that we get her safely there."

The anxious listeners within felt sure these were the dacoits and
longed for the arrival of the police. The disguised thieves persisted
in their questioning for some time in spite of the house master's
repeated advice that they had better search elsewhere. At last they
departed carrying the palki with them. And the dwellers in the red
brick-house breathed more freely. But not for long.

The village was a tiny one and the pretended bearers soon returned
from their search. Planting the palki in the doorway, they shouted:
"We know for certain that our mistress is hiding somewhere. We feel
sure she is in your house. Here we will sit till you send her forth."

On hearing these words the poor pursued girl fell at the feet of her
host, calling herself his daughter and addressing him as "father", and
implored of him not to give her up to these awful dacoits. The good
man assured her of his protection while his wife raised her from the
floor, and, embracing her, said they would all sooner suffer death
than give her up.