One of them replied—"I think you had much better go and speak to the Magistrate yourself, Sir. It is a very delicate matter—and I hardly think—the presence of a third party—"
The other man was more outspoken. He interrupted his companion, saying—"I hate diddle-daddle. I tell you plainly, Sir, your going to the Magistrate would be perfectly useless. Besides,—we won't speak against the Police—we can't. We are poor men and contrive to maintain our family somehow. After having seen, Sir, how you—a Government servant and a man of wealth and position—have fared at the hands of the Police, it would be insane for us to court their displeasure. To you, they haven't done anything worse than searching your house. Us, they would handcuff and drag along the public streets, poking at our ribs with their batons all the way."
Hara Govind Babu looked at them for a minute in silent contempt. Then he said—"Just as you please, gentlemen."
"Good afternoon, Sir,"—and the two men departed.
The Doctor then dressed and walked to the Magistrate's bungalow. The Sahib was then in his tennis suit with a racket in his hand and was preparing to bike to his Club.
