been committed at the 'old factory house', as it was called, hurried on the same night to inform the officer in charge of the police station of it. The police station was about twelve miles distant from Prosadpur; so this officer did not turn up until nine o'clock the next morning. On his arrival he examined the dead body. Then after securing the pistol he held an inquiry into the case, and sent his report to the higher authorities. He next had the dead body sent on, sheeted and bound up, in a cart in charge of the watchman to the nearest hospital for post mortem examination. Afterwards, having eaten his meal, he earnestly set to search for a clue that might lead to the discovery of the murderer.
Immediately after Gobindalal had committed the murder he threw down the pistol and escaped by a secret door at the back of the house without being seen by any one. He travelled the whole night and the day next to put many miles of distance between himself and Prosadpur. In the village of Prosadpur he had assumed the name of Chunilal Dutt. His servants knew not what his real name was, neither where he had come from. The sub-inspector in charge of the police station, having gone about for a time in vain to find a clew, gave up the search, and sent a report, saying that the culprit had absconded.
A few days afterwards a very capable detective inspector was sent up from Jessore to investigate the case. Fichel Khan, for that was the name of the inspector, searched the house thoroughly and found some letters, from which he came to know the criminal's native village and his real name, and the name also of the woman who lived with him. He went in disguise in search of him to Haridragram, but in vain, for Gobindalal had never gone there.
Leaving Rohini to her fate Nishakar returned that night very quickly to Madhabinath, who had taken up their lodgings at a shop in the bazar at Prosadpur. He told his friend what be had done. "You have not acted wisely," said Madhabinath, "for Gobindalal might be induced to commit something desperate, for which he would be certainly arraigned in court."
But what had been done could not be recalled. They, however, passed the night in great anxiety. And what were their surprise and alarm when they heard the next morning that a man named Chunilal Dutt, who had lived for nearly two years at the 'old factory house', had murdered his wife for reasons not known to any one and decamped. They were very sorry to think of Rohini's fate, but they were a great deal more afraid and concerned for Gobindalal, whom, they feared, the police would be sure to find out. From that day forward they began to live in the bazar very cautiously; and when they knew that the police had failed to find out any clue, they felt a bit easy in mind and returned to Calcutta.
CHAPTER XI.
Madhabinath was come home. Bhramar was at her father's. There was an expression of sadness in her face, which no one could fail to see. Her father said no more to her than that Gobindalal was quite well, for he feared that if she heard of the rash and violent deed he had done it would very seriously affect her health. However, as he had told this in confidence to his wife, who, wanting to unburden herself, had cautiously and secretly imparted it to their widowed daughter. Bhramar before long heared of it. The news, as might be expected, was at first crushing to her; but finally she had learned to be resigned.
Her elder sister, Jamini, said to her one day, "It seems to me that Gobindalal will be safe to come and live at his own house now."
"What makes you think so?" said Bhramar.
"Why, he was not known by his real name while he was away. How then can the police know that he is the very same man who lived at Prosadpur?"
"Didn't you hear that the police went in search of him to Haridragram? That shows that they are in possession of his real name."
"However, I think," said Jamini, "there is nothing better he can do than to come home, for then he can command his finance, and father says the police care for nothing but silver."
A tear sprang to her eye. "That's very true," she said, "but who is to give him that advice? Who knows where he is hiding?"
"Gobindalal, I trust, will himself soon
