The next morning Razat Sing, a tall old man, leading by the hand his blind wife, presented himself at the Chandos verandah, and asked to see the Mem Sahib. "What would you?" she demanded, in her shrill voice. "Great lady," and he salaamed to the ground, "protector of the poor, it hath come to my knowledge that Abdul Buk--whose rope is round our necks--will do much for a word from thee." "Aré, what nonsense is this?" she screeched, in her fluent Hindustani. "Art thou mad? What have I to do with such as thee?" All her daughters were assembled in the verandah, listening to this conversation; the servants, too, were, as usual, within earshot. "It is true, O! lady, they say, that thou hast done him some noble favour; therefore, will he listen to thee. We ask not much--only to remain in the old house by the old well, on the soil on which I was born. Lo! when I say we ask not much--we ask our lives. Sixty years have I toiled and striven," holding up as he spoke his worn, knotted hands; "I have not wasted my money on aught; I have gone no pilgrimages; I have held no feasts; I have fed scantily; I have worked harder than a mill bullock, but to no avail--the fruit of these hands hath gone to the money-lenders, for once, in an evil hour, I did borrow one hundred rupees. Alas, I am now in the toils of Saloo, the soucar--he groweth richer and richer as we wax poorer and poorer; and I have no son to carry on the debt--therefore am I driven forth, being old and feeble. Speak but one word, oh, great lady, and Abdul Buk will grant us our request." As he pleaded the poor old creature, whose body was almost skeleton-like in its leanness, whose only garments were a dhoti and a ragged red turban, sobbed aloud as he went down upon his knees, and placed his head at the feet of Mrs. Chandos. "Bah! what have I to do with Abdul Buk?" she cried, "and his affairs? Go! I mix not myself up with crops and beggars!" To avoid further importunity--and secretly startled and alarmed--she retreated indoors. The old ryot raised himself with a groan, slowly picked up his stick, took his blind wife by the hand, and with downcast head led her away in silence. They were a truly pitiful sight. Verona and Pussy whispered together. Between them they had two rupees, and with these in her hand, Pussy ran after old Razat Sing, and pressed the silver into his palm, but he seemed to be dazed with trouble, and scarcely aware of her gift. "I know where he lives," said Pussy to Verona, "it is the old house under the big pepul tree, a mile off the Bhetapore road. Let us walk up there to-morrow morning, and take them some clothes. We will get Nani to help us." The two girls constantly walked in the morning, but Dominga was a lie-a-bed. And now and then they were joined by Mrs. Lepell--also an early riser. At tennis that same evening, Verona related the story of Saloo to Mrs. Lepell.