"And look-below here," said Vanna, pointing to one of the ghauts
- long rugged steps running down to the river.

"When I came yesterday, a great broken crowd was collected here,
almost shouldering each other into the water where a boat lay
rocking. In it lay the body of a man brutally murdered for the
sake of a few rupees and flung into the river. I could see the
poor brown body stark in the boat with a friend weeping beside
it. On the lovely deodar bridge people leaned over, watching with
a grim open-mouthed curiosity, and business went on gaily where
the jewelers make the silver bangles for slender wrists, and the
rows of silver chains that make the necks like 'the Tower of
Damascus builded for an armory.' It was all very wild and cruel.
I went down to them-"

"Vanna - you went down? Horrible!"

"No, you see I heard them say the wife was almost a child and
needs help. So I went. Once long ago at Peshawar I saw the same
thing happen, and they came and took the child for the service of
the gods, for she was most lovely, and she clung to the feet of a
man in terror, and the priest stabbed her to the heart. She died
in my arms.

"Good God!" I said, shuddering; "what a sight for you! Did they
never hang him?"

"He was not punished. I told you it was a very long time ago. Her
expression had a brooding quiet as she looked down into the
running river, almost it might be as if she saw the picture of