Isa Dás pointed to the spot where he had lain; two deep holes in the soil showed where the elephant's tusks had entered on either side of his body! "A hair's-breadth escape, indeed!" cried Mr. Madden. "I gave you up for lost." "I gave myself up for lost," said Isa Dás; "I had scarcely time to commend my soul unto God; but praised be He who can save to the uttermost both body and soul!" [Illustration] CHAPTER XII. TWO MARRIAGES. THE first visit of Isa Dás to Ditu's home was by no means the last. The family were full of gratitude for the preservation of Tara, and he who had risked his life to save her was always sure of a welcome. It was a great pleasure to Isa Dás to open his heart to a Christian countryman. He conversed freely with Ditu on the former events of his life, on past trials which he had, as it were, hitherto kept in a locked-up chamber. That chamber was indeed full of painful memories. I will give a brief record of the early days of Shiv Dás, the Hindu, that the reader may contrast them with those of Isa Dás, the Christian. Shiv Dás was married when he was but seven years old. The child's wedding took place with all the ceremonies which Hindus deem suitable, and all the show in which they delight. The bridegroom's procession extended for nearly a quarter of a mile; loud was the sound of the tom-toms (drums); and enough of money was spent on feasting and fireworks to have fed the family for years. Many pice were given to beggars, many rupees were bestowed on the priests. All present declared that such a tamasha (show) had never before been seen in that town. The little bride-child was loaded with jewels, and the cost of her outfit left her father in debt to the day of his death! And what followed the grand wedding? Even as the most brilliant fireworks leave but a few ashes, and, perhaps, an evil savour behind, so was it with the marriage of Shiv Dás. The boy and girl thus wedded never cared for each other. They had but been joined together with a gilded chain; the gilding wore off, the weight of iron remained behind. Shiv Dás grew up a thoughtful youth with a cultivated mind; he delighted in study. Lachmi was a silly creature, with scarcely a thought beyond what finery she should wear, what jewels she should put on. But she had a sharp tongue and an evil temper. Her presence was to her husband as that of a swarm of wasps who buzz and who sting. One little girl was born in the house when Shiv Dás was about twenty years old. The child was an object of love to her father, but was utterly neglected by Lachmi, who was grievously disappointed that she had not given birth to a boy. About two years afterwards, Lachmi set her heart on going to the great Hurdwan melá, and bathing in the sacred Ganges. Shiv Dás, unlike his more ignorant wife, had little faith in the holiness of the Ganges. He foresaw great trouble and expense, and possible danger, from attending the melá, Hurdwan being at a great distance from his home.