cious
guard over the child in her hiding-place.
There are no secrets in India. It was known that we had been there, and
that stern old mother punished her child; but how, we never knew.
If any blame us for going at all, let it be remembered that one of
Christ's little ones was thirsty, and she held out her hand for a cup of
cold water. We could not have left that hand empty, I think.
After that we heard nothing for a year; then an old man whom we had
helped, and who hoped we intended to help him more, came one evening to
tell us he meant to set Gold free. It was all to be secretly done, and
it was to be done that night. We told him we could have nothing to do
with his plan, and we explained to him why. "But," he objected, "what
folly is this? I thought you Christians helped poor girls, and this one
certainly wants to come. She is of age. This is the time. If you wait
you will never get her at all." We knew this was more than probable; to
refuse his help was like turning the key and locking her body and soul
into prison--an awful thought to me, as I remembered Treasure. But there
was nothing else to be done; and afterwards, when we heard who he was,
and what his real intentions were, we were thankful we had done it. He
looked at us curiously as he went, as if our view of things struck him
as strange; and he begged us never to breathe a word of what he had
said. We never did, but it somehow oozed out, and soon after that he
sickened and very suddenly died. His body was burnt within two hours.
Post-mortems are rare in India.
Another year passed in silence as to Gold. How often we went down the
street and looked across at her home, with its door almost always shut,
and that icy-eyed mother on guard. We used to see her going about, never
far from the house. When we saw her we salaamed; then she would glare at
us grimly, and turn her back on us. Once the whole family went to a
festival; but the girl of course was bundled in and out of a covered
cart, and seen by no one, not even the next-door neighbours. There was
talk of a marriage for her. Most girls of her Caste are married much
younger; but to our relief this fell through, and once one of us saw her
for a moment, and she still seemed to care to hear, though she was far
too cowed by this time to show it.
Then we heard a rumour that a girl from the Lake Village had been seen
by some of our Christians in a wood near a village five miles distant.
These Christians ar
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