The girl put together her clothes.  Her good mother-in-law unlocked the great safe and took out the girl’s best jewels.  An Indian wedding is the occasion for a great display of clothes and jewellery, and a well-dressed and richly-adorned bow raises the credit of the mother-in-law, especially if the wedding is in the girl’s own family; so a careful selection was made.  Baby was not forgotten either.  Tiny gold bangles and chains had been showered upon him at his birth, and this was his first public appearance.

They started early, so as to arrive during the afternoon.  There was to be a ceremony the next day and many guests had arrived at the bride-groom’s house, and all watched eagerly for the two sisters.  But the hours waned and still they tarried.  Late in the evening, the old servant arrived, agitated and all mud-bespattered.

Family, guests and servants plied him with questions concerning the sisters.  Not a word would he reply.  Suspicions soon voiced themselves.  Dacoits were about.  Everyone knew of the wedding and the consequent family gathering.  Everyone knew too that the daughter was the cherished bow of a rich family.

Urged by these arguments and his own anxiety, the father threatened to skin the man alive unless he spoke.  Intimidated by his master’s anger, the servant stated that the boat had capsized and the sisters and baby were drowned.

The house of mirth and laughter was changed to one of weeping.  But the father did not accept the information in its entirety.  He called in the police and a vigorous search was made.  All the boatmen were found.  They stated they had swum ashore but could or would give no word of the ladies.

The only possible clue was given by an Englishman living in a mill on the river bank at Chinsurah.  About midnight, on the date of the disappearance of the ladies, he heard the cries of women and a child.  At first he had thought of going to see what was up.  But the sounds were coming from a thick jungle, and he argued it was impossible any one could be there in trouble, and finally thought no more of the seeming cries.

This ill-omened happening broke up the wedding party.  The marriage was cancelled.  All the preparations had been for nothing.  To this day the fate of the sisters is unknown.  The bride and bridegroom-elect were married to other parties.

A Punjabee Dacoit

In a railway train several Punjabee ladies sat on the lower berths of a second class compartment, laughing and talking gaily.  They were, with one exception, all richly dressed and each of them wore a quantity of jewels.  The exception was a capable, good-looking woman, of about twenty-five.  Her short hair, neck and arms bare of jewellery, and plain white saree, proclaimed her a widow.  But like the others she chatted merrily, and a listener would have learned from their conversation that they had been attending a wedding, and were now on their way home.  Witty remarks about the guests, criticism of the looks of the bride, and comparisons of this wedding with others, passed from one to another, and whiled away the hours of the journey as the train sped onwards.