“Didi,” they said, addressing her affectionately and respectfully by the endearing name of sister, which is a custom permitted in Bengal to the servants of every household.  In the home of her girlhood a girl is addressed as “didi” (sister) and in her father-in-law’s house as “bow” (son’s wife).  Sons of the family are addressed as “dada” (brother, strictly elder brother) and sons-in-law as “jamai”.

“Didi, fear not!  As long as there is breath in these bodies we will defend you.  If the dacoits overtake us, we will guard you.  No harm shall come to you.”

Encouraged by their presence and words, the girl made all possible speed.  But her delicate feet were unused to rough, hard roads, and, despite her will and brave efforts, she tripped and stumbled continually.  In Bengal, in the hot dry weather, the country roads are difficult to traverse.  The deep ruts of the rainy season dry up and the once muddy earth crumbles into thick heavy dust, into which the feet of the wayfarers sink.  Fast travelling is difficult even for those who are used to journeying, so the poor young lady made little headway and was soon overtaken by her pursuers.  They had not been long in discovering her flight and were soon racing after her from under the tree.  As she ran she heard their shouts, and then realised that they had caught up with her guard who were resisting them.

The poor girl ran on and on alone, and presently saw a tiny hamlet hidden among some trees.  She made for this as fast as her trembling limbs could carry her and rushed breathlessly into a small red brick-house, the door of which stood slightly ajar, crying:  “Shut the door!  Dacoits are following me!” Then, overcome with fear and exhaustion, she sank unconscious upon the floor.

The ladies of the little household ran forward on hearing her cry and shut the door promptly.  Dacoits were known and feared everywhere.  Then they tenderly ministered to the stranger.  As soon as she recovered her senses, she related to them what had befallen her and implored their protection.

The master of the house immediately despatched a messenger to a distant police outpost for aid.  Soothed and comforted, the girl eagerly hoped and prayed for the arrival of her attendants.

After some time, word was brought in that a palki was approaching.  Even in the dark the approach of a palki is made known by the rhythmic cries of the bearers.  Soon it arrived in front of the red brick-house and the bearers, halting, asked loudly if a strange lady, richly attired and decked with jewels, was within.  From an upper window the master of the house answered them, while the girl and her kindly hostess listened anxiously downstairs.  The pseudo palki-bearers next informed the listeners that they were the servants of a very wealthy man and had been conveying his daughter to her parents-in-law’s house.

“But” they boldly declared, “our master’s daughter is such a troublesome girl.  She causes us much anxiety whenever she is sent to visit her mother-in-law.  She is so unwilling to go that it is with great difficulty that we get her safely there.”