Robin, who of late had not only thought a good deal, but written a good deal—his pen taking, as he said to himself, the place of a wife—was so full of his little allegory, which he thought that he might turn into a poem, that he did not take notice of the approach of a party of men, till one of them suddenly addressed him. Turning his eyes from the Persian wheel, Robin recognized in the handsomely-attired native near him Thákar Dás, the chief who ruled in the fort. The Hindu did not give the Englishman the salám which courtesy demands, and there was something of insolence in the chief’s tone and manner as he abruptly said, “Where is Kripá Dé?” “Why do you ask me?” said Robin, perplexed by the sudden question. “Because you are certain to know. You and your brother have misguided the lad—you have bewitched him; have you baptized him too?” “No,” was the curt reply. “Have you made him break his caste? has he eaten with you?” demanded the angry Hindu. “What right have you to inquire?” asked Robin. “Am I not his father?” cried Thákar Dás. “Kripá Dé has no father, nor mother neither,” said Robin, “and he is of an age to choose for himself.” “He is under fourteen years of age!” cried the Hindu. “Kripá Dé is full eighteen years old; no one knows that better than yourself,” said the indignant Robin. “Happily his janam-patri [horoscope] is with us.” “You have seen it!” exclaimed Thákar Dás. “Then the boy is in hiding with you?” Robin was silent; he could not deny the fact. The chief gave a signal both with voice and with uplifted arm to a body of men whom he had stationed at some fifty yards distance on the road which led to the mission bungalow. “Off—seize Kripá Dé!” shouted Thákar Dás; and in an instant the band of Hindus were rushing in the direction of Mr. Hartley’s house, to execute the command of their chief, and carry off the disgraced and degraded Brahmin. Some of these Hindus were armed with sticks and clubs; but had they borne swords and guns it would have been all the same to Robin Hartley. He had but one thought—“Kripá Dé is in danger; I must warn him. These Hindus have the start of me; but I’ll be at the bungalow before them.” And off darted Robin at speed. Alicia’s kahars, eager, like all natives of India, to see a tamasha (which might be Anglicized “to be present at the fun”), deserted the doli, and hurried off in the same direction.