"I never said that," protested Rámdá; "but you must really wait till
the beginning of next year. My cold weather crops are looking well;
and--"

"No, that won't do at all. If you do not pay up in a week, I will
certainly have recourse to the civil court."

"Do so by all means if your sense of religion permits," rejoined Rámdá,
leaving the parlour in smothered wrath.

When the week of grace had expired, Nagendra Babu filed a suit in the
local Múnsiffs Court against his defaulter. As soon as the fact was
bruited abroad a universal protest was roused against Nagendra Babu's
harshness. Some of the village elders remonstrated with him, but were
told to mind their own business; whereon they laid their heads together
and subscribed the small sum due from the Brahman. A deputation of
five waited on him with entreaties to accept it, but he refused to
take the money on any other footing than a loan. So Rámdá paid his
arrears and costs into Court, to the plaintiff's intense annoyance.

Samarendra Babu had left his wife and children in comparatively poor
circumstances; for, after discharging his debts, they had barely
Rs. 300 a year to live on. The widow declined to seek Nagendra Babu's
help, even if she were reduced to beg in the streets. After her
brother's imprisonment, she had no one to manage her little property
which, as a Purdanashin (lit. "one sitting behind the veil"), she
was unable to do herself. After mature reflection she sent for Rámdá,
who had known her from infancy. He obeyed the summons with alacrity
and gave the poor woman sound advice regarding the direction of
the Zemindary. By acting on it she was able to increase her income