Plodding along in the darkness the Brahmachari heard suddenly in the pathway some such sound, followed by a long sigh.  The sound was muffled, nevertheless it seemed to come from a human throat, from some one in pain.  The Brahmachari stood waiting, the lightning flashed brightly; he saw something lying at the side of the road—­was it a human being?  Still he waited; the next flash convinced him that his conjecture was correct.  He called out, “Who are you lying by the roadside?” No one made reply.  Again he asked.  This time an indistinct sound of distress caught his ear.  Then the Brahmachari laid his umbrella and drinking-vessel on the ground, and extending his hands began to feel about.  Ere long he touched a soft body; then as his hand came in contact with a knot of hair he exclaimed, “Oh, Durga, it is a woman!”

Leaving umbrella and drinking-vessel, he raised the dying or senseless woman in his arms, and, leaving the road, crossed the plain towards a village; he was familiar with the neighbourhood, and could make his way through the darkness.  His frame was not powerful, yet he carried this dying creature like a child through this difficult path.  Those who are strong in goodwill to others are not sensible of bodily weakness.

Bearing the unconscious woman in his arms, the Brahmachari stopped at the door of a leaf-thatched hut at the entrance of the village, and called to one within, “Haro, child, are you at home?”

A woman replied, “Do I hear the Thakur’s voice?  When did the Thakur come?”

“But now.  Open the door quickly; I am in a great difficulty.”

Haro Mani opened the door.  The Brahmachari, bidding her light a lamp, laid his burden on the floor of the hut.  Haro lit the lamp, and bringing it near the dying woman, they both examined her carefully.  They saw that she was not old, but in the condition of her body it was difficult to guess her age.  She was extremely emaciated, and seemed struck with mortal illness.  At one time she certainly must have had beauty, but she had none now.  Her wet garments were greatly soiled, and torn in a hundred places; her wet, unbound hair was much tangled; her closed eyes deeply sunk.  She breathed, but was not conscious; she seemed near death.

Haro Mani asked:  “Who is this? where did you find her?”

The Brahmachari explained, and added, “I see she is near death, yet if we could but renew the warmth of her body she might live; do as I tell you and let us see.”

Then Haro Mani, following the Brahmachari’s directions, changed the woman’s wet clothes for dry garments, and dried her wet hair.  Then lighting a fire, they endeavoured to warm her.

The Brahmachari said:  “Probably she has been long without food; if there is milk in the house, give her a little at a time.”

Haro Mani possessed a cow, and had milk at hand; warming some, she administered it slowly.  After a while the woman opened her eyes; when Haro Mani said, “Where have you come from, mother?”