"No bábá, but you are my son. Pray, spare my life! See, I am half
dead already and ruined as well!"

"I am Karim Sheikh," said the sardar impressively.

"So you are," replied Chandra Babu, after recovering from his intense
surprise; "but why have you turned dacoit?"

"It was owing to your oppression, which drove me from my house, and
deprived me of the means of livelihood. All my companions here have
been beggared by you, and scores of other families too. The whole
of Kadampur and Simulgachi are clamouring for your blood, and Allah
has appointed me to be the minister of his vengeance. Time was when
I had to cringe to you, just as you are doing to me, but never did I
receive mercy from you. Now the tables are turned. I might kill you,
and who would dare to inform the police folk?" (Here Karim made a
vicious prod with his talwár, which passed within half an inch of
the terror-stricken victim's throat.) "I might put you out of caste
by slaying one of your cows and forcing you to eat its flesh. You
deserve all this and more--but we will be merciful. Swear by your
goddesses Kali and Durga that you will never in future demand more
than four annas in the rupee yearly for loans of money or rice. Swear
that you will never again bribe the amla or peons of the Courts;
swear that you will never again falsify the accounts of your Khátaks."

Chandra Babu took the oaths demanded with an appearance of unction
and then implored his captors to release him.

"Wait a minute," was Karim's reply, "we must collect our belongings."