He suggested we go to the cutchery, court house, which we did at once. He knew the head clerks, and they would tell us everything. And they did. I often think these natives know especially what they ought not to know. I went on purpose to learn something, but in my secret soul I wished they were as ignorant as mules, and could tell me nothing. Smith Sahib, they said, had gone home, to Wilayat, from Lucknow, on furlough, had married, and returning had been assistant at some place, and then magistrate at, alas! my station, and then commissioner at Jalalpur. The whole story came out in a sentence. I then knew too much. I restrained my feelings as I was becoming hardened as a criminal who commits crime upon crime. I did not care to think, and if I was ever thankful for a man who could talk, I was then. My friend was a whole mill stream of talk. The gate once opened, on he went. It was not idle or dull chatter either, but a flood of good things, interesting and amusing. I yielded entirely to his good humor, and the blue devils had no chance of attacking me. I dined with him, as my reason told me that this was the best thing I could do, and so it was. At home again, but I was not happy, for I was not satisfied. I had, as it were, started out on a hunt, got track of the game, but had not bagged it. I know this is not at all respectful to compare a father to game, and to talk of bagging him, but then what had my father taught me of respect to himself or anybody else? What had he done for me but to curse me in begetting me? When I have heard that prayer, “We bless thee for our creation,” may God forgive me I never could say it, and God knows why, and I think I love Him too well to believe that He will make any record against me for what I am now saying. What next? was the question. The same something, I do not know what, either led me, or pushed me on, or told me to go on, go on. I could sympathize with the wandering Jew. I went to Jalalpur. On the way I tried to analyze my feelings. I had no love or respect for this man, though he should prove to be my father. That was settled. I had nothing to give him, that he would like to receive; I wished nothing from him, no public recognition of me as his son, if it was found that he was my father; I wanted no money or favor of any kind whatever. The only thing I wished really to know, who was my father. This man, or some equally honorable gentleman? I wanted to know, if I had a father, and who he was. I made up my mind to go most respectfully to Mr. Smith, state the case calmly, find out the fact, and go home to let the matter rest for ever and aye. With this conclusion, I tried to assume a moral philosophic kind of feeling, and by the time I had taken a good bath at the hotel, donned my best morning suit, and fortified myself with a good substantial breakfast, I felt myself ready to meet anybody, even my father, if I should find him.