MOHENDRA had descended from the cart, wrested a weapon from one of the sepoys and made ready to join in the fight. But at this moment it came home clearly to him that these men were robbers and the plunder of the treasure the object of their attack on the soldiery. In obedience to this idea he stood away from the scene of the fight, for to help the robbers meant to be a partner in their ill-doing. Then he flung the sword away and was slowly leaving the place when Bhavananda came and stood near him. Mohendra said to him, "Tell me, who are you?"
Bhavananda replied, "What need have you to know that?"
"I have a need" said Mohendra. "You have done me today a very great service."
"I hardly thought you realized it;" said Bhavananda, "you had a weapon in your hand and yet you stood apart. A land-holder are you, and that's a man good at being the death of milk and ghee, but when work has to be done, an ape."
Before Bhavananda had well finished his tirade, Mohendra answered with contempt and disgust, "But this is bad work,—a robbery!"
"Robbery or not," retorted Bhavananda, "we have done you some little service and are willing to do you a little more."
"You have done me some service, I own," said Mohendra, "but what new service can you do me? And at a dacoit's hands I am better unhelped than helped."
"Whether you accept our proffered service or not," said Bhavananda, "depends on your own choice. If you do choose to take it, come with me. I will bring you where you can meet your wife and child."
Mohendra turned and stood still. "What is that?" he cried.
Bhavananda walked on without any reply, and Mohendra had no choice but to walk on with him, wondering in his heart what new kind of robbers were these.