d he reply. Suspicions soon voiced
themselves. Dacoits were about. Everyone knew of the wedding and the
consequent family gathering. Everyone knew too that the daughter was
the cherished bow of a rich family.

Urged by these arguments and his own anxiety, the father threatened
to skin the man alive unless he spoke. Intimidated by his master's
anger, the servant stated that the boat had capsized and the sisters
and baby were drowned.

The house of mirth and laughter was changed to one of weeping. But
the father did not accept the information in its entirety. He called
in the police and a vigorous search was made. All the boatmen were
found. They stated they had swum ashore but could or would give no
word of the ladies.

The only possible clue was given by an Englishman living in a mill
on the river bank at Chinsurah. About midnight, on the date of
the disappearance of the ladies, he heard the cries of women and
a child. At first he had thought of going to see what was up. But
the sounds were coming from a thick jungle, and he argued it was
impossible any one could be there in trouble, and finally thought no
more of the seeming cries.

This ill-omened happening broke up the wedding party. The marriage
was cancelled. All the preparations had been for nothing. To this day
the fate of the sisters is unknown. The bride and bridegroom-elect
were married to other parties.

A Punjabee Dacoit

In a railway train several Punjabee ladies sat on the lower berths
of a second class compartment, laughing and talking gaily. They
were, with one exception, all richly dressed and each of them wore a
quantity of jewels. The exception was a capable, good-looking woman,
of about twenty-five. Her short hair, neck and arms bare of jewellery,
and plain white saree, proclaimed her a widow. But like the others
she chatted merrily, and a listener would have learned from their
conversation that they had been attending a wedding, and were now
on their way home. Witty remarks about the guests, criticism of the
looks of the bride, and comparisons of this wedding with others,
passed from one to another, and whiled away the hours of the journey
as the train sped onwards.

Night fell, and the ladies became silent. They rested against each
other and dozed at intervals. The widow sat on a trunk at the end of
the carriage and silently told her beads. The train slowed down and
stopped at a little station. Then the bell clanged and once again
th