get out of the clutches of the white pirate and then fall into the hands of black pirates, we shall not be any the worse for it.”
Then shaking the braided locks of her small head trailing behind her shoulders, she strode with a soft delicate smile and installed herself in her small couch.
"I can scarcely bear your smile at such a moment,” cried Parvati.
“If you cannot,” said Shaibalini “there is the Ganges ready for you; you are welcome to drown yourself. The time for my smiling has come, and I will smile. Do call one of the pirates please, will you? I should like to have a talk.”
"They do not want to be called,” answered Parvati in a pet, "they will come without it.”
Sometime passed, but no pirates came. “Look at our luck,” said Shaibalini in an injured tone, “even the pirates do not take any notice of us.” Parvati had been trembling in fear.
A long while after, the boat stopped at an alluvial plat. It waited there sometime before some clubmen brought a palanquin with Ramcharan at their head.
The bearers set the palanquin on the ground. Ramcharan got into the barge and approached Protap. With Protap’s instructions he entered the cabin. His eyes first lighted on Parvati’s face, then he saw Shaibalini. Addressing the latter he said, “Will it please you madam, to come out?”
“Who are you?” asked Shaibalini. “Where do you want me to go?”
“Your servant, madam,” replied Ramcharan, “do not be afraid—come with me. The Englishman is dead."
Quietly Shaibalini stood up and followed Ramcharan, and together went out of the boat. Parvati was
