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 My poor mother came with me to a cottage; she maintained herself and me by bodily labor. None cared for the poor thing; neither could any news be got of father. Several years after, in winter, a wealthy Pathan was going to Delhi from Bengal. He was going through Benares. Arriving at the city late at night, he could not get lodgings. His wife and his babe were with him. Coming to our cottage, he begged permission to spend the night there. "None of the Hindus" said he, "consent to give me shelter. Where shall we go now with this infant? He cannot bear cold. I have not many persons with me, and there will be room enough  for us in the cottage here. I will reward you handsomely." The Pathan was hastening to Delhi on some urgent business; he had only one servant with him. My mother was poor as well as kind-hearted; either from love of gold or from compassion for the infant, she allowed the Pathan a place in our cottage. He lay in a part lighted up by a lamp, with his wife and son. In the other, we lay. The populace of Benares were then full of apprehensions for boy-kidnappers. I was then six years old; I can't tell all that happened; I relate what I have learnt from mother.

The lamp was burning at midnight. A thief entered in through a breach, which he made in the wall, and was stealing away the boy of the Pathan. I had then awaked from sleep and saw it. I set up a loud cry, which awakened all.

The wife of the Pathan not finding her child beside her, at once shrieked. The thief was then going out with the boy. The Pathan rushed on the man, drew him by the hair and snatched the boy from him. As the culprit implored hard for mercy, the Pathan let him go after cutting off one of his ears."