Kumud Nath before this had sent Khoka home with Bisua. Now, after giving his own deposition, he went home, sending the perambulator by a coolie.
Giribala, weeping, said—"To-day my child is born again. In what evil hour did I bring him from home? Let us go back there—not another hour will I stay here."
The next day was cloudy. After rain there was a snowfall. What delight for Khoka! He wanted to put his hand through the shutters and touch the snow. It became very dark. Before four o'clock lamps had to be lighted. Kumud Babu said—"Let us dine early this evening." After playing all day, Khoka had fallen asleep. At six, Kumud Babu sat down to eat. Giribala lit a fire and then sat down by her husband, chatting with him. When he had finished he went out on to the circular verandah. Like a flash of lighting he saw a woman darting forth in front of him. It was the same person, that destructive Lepcha woman. A moment or two earlier, she had slain the warder and escaped from the cell.
For a moment, under the stress of excitement, Kumud Nath pursued her. Going below he saw Bisua lying with his throat cut, the floor covered with blood. The sight staggered him. His
