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Rh “Don't you fret yourself,” cried back Protap, “ I am not going to escape. I want to pull this woman out. How can I bear to see a woman kill herself before my eyes? My dear man you are a Hindu, have a care before you kill a Brahmin!” The sepoy lowered his gun.

At that time Shaibalini was swimming along the hindmost boat. As her eyes fell on it, she suddenly gave a start. It was the very same boat in which she had lived sometime with Foster.

For a while she kept gazing at it in a tremble. She saw in the moonlight an Englishman lying in a half recliuing posture on a small bed on the roof of the boat. The rays of the moon had fallen on his face. Shaibalini recognised Lawrence Foster and gave a loud scream.

Foster also gazed at the swimming woman for sometime and recognised Shaihalini. “There, seize her, seize her!” loudly cried Foster, “she is my mistress.” Foster was now sickly, emaciated, weak, bed-ridden and incapable of locomotion.

At the sound of his voice four or ﬁve men leapt into the water to catch Shaibalini. Protap was then far ahead of them. “Catch her, catch her,” they cried out to him, “Mr. Foster will reward you.” Protap said to himself, “I also have rewarded Mr. Foster once before, and I have a mind to reward him again.” Aloud he cried back to them, “ I will catch her, you can get out.”

They all turned back relying on his word. Foster had no idea that the man in front was Protap. His brain was yet in a muddle on account of his recent illness.