"The old woman is not a bad sort," my master went on musingly.
"Panchu was not sure of her caste, and would not let her touch
the water-jar, or anything at all of his. So they were
continually bickering. When she found I had no objection to her
touch, she looked after me devotedly. She is a splendid cook!
"But all remnants of Panchu's respect for me vanished! To the
last he had thought that I was at least a simple sort of person.
But here was I, risking my caste without a qualm to win over the
old woman for my purpose. Had I tried to steal a march on her by
tutoring a witness for the trial, that would have been a
different matter. Tactics must be met by tactics. But stratagem
at the expense of orthodoxy is more than he can tolerate!
"Anyhow, I must stay on a few days at Panchu's even after the
woman leaves, for Harish Kundu may be up to any kind of devilry.
He has been telling his satellites that he was content to have
furnished Panchu with an aunt, but I have gone the length of
supplying him with a father. He would like to see, now, how many
fathers of his can save him!"
"We may or may not be able to save him," I said; "but if we
should perish in the attempt to save the country from the
thousand-and-one snares--of religion, custom and selfishness--
which these people are busy spreading, we shall at least die
happy.
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