Not many years ago a young married lady was journeying alone.

It is not customary in India for young women, even if married, to go out by themselves.  The purdah system unfits them for independence.  Even when going for a short distance by palanquin or just for a carriage drive, a chaperon is necessary.

Yet occasions arise when it is imperative that they should journey, but no suitable escort can be found or spared for the purpose.  They are then obliged to go with servants.  It may seem strange that young ladies should be permitted to travel alone with servants.  But readers who know India will not be surprised, for Indians treat their servants after the patriarchal system, especially those who have served the family for generations.  Even hired attendants, like the driver in this story, are thoroughly trusted when known to the family.

The young lady was on her way to visit her father and mother.  Indian parents-in-law cannot visit at the parental home of their daughter-in-law.  Therefore bow-ma journeyed alone with her little son, a child of about five years of age.

The distance was not a long one, only from Calcutta to Durgapore, a village a few miles away from the city.  So a hackney-carriage was hired with a driver who had often before been employed by her father-in-law, and everyone felt assured bow-ma would reach her destination safely.

Her mother-in-law saw her into the carriage.  Her little boy was lifted up beside her, and, with many injunctions to drive carefully and with speed ringing in his ears, the driver whipped up his horses and they were off.

Bow-ma knew the road well.  Often had she journeyed to and fro in the early years of her married life, and even after the birth of her little son her visits to her parents had been frequent.

The carriage was close and her heavy silken saree hot to wear, so she opened the venetians and lazily watched the familiar landmarks as they passed.  She had started early so that the journey should be accomplished in day-light, and still they did not reach home.  She noted the various trees and hedges and was puzzled.  Surely, the road seemed different.  The sun, a ball of golden fire, sank to rest in a bed of many-tinted clouds, and still they had not arrived.  Bow-ma felt strangely anxious.

The carriage suddenly swerved.  To her dismay she saw they had turned into a rough and untravelled road with paddy-fields on either side.  The place seemed lonely.  It was now rapidly growing dark, for in India after sun-set Night does not long delay her coming.  A presentiment of evil clutched bow-ma’s heart.  She whispered to her little boy to ask the driver where they were and when they should arrive.  In India it is not permitted a woman to address any man save her husband, father, and brothers.

The child obeyed but the driver made no reply.  “Ask again,” whispered the mother, “he has not heard you,”