The person addressed felt certain that this must be a case of investigation into a murder, and that therefore it would not be well to give a truthful answer.  He replied, “Sir, I am but a child; I do not know as much as that.”

Nagendra perceived that unless he could meet with an educated man he would learn nothing.  There were many in the village, therefore Nagendra went to a house of superior class.  It proved to be that of Ram Kristo Rai, who, noticing the arrival of a strange gentleman, requested him to sit down.  Nagendra, inquiring for Siva Prasad Brahmachari, was informed that he had left the place.

Much dejected, Nagendra asked, “Where is he gone?”

“That I do not know; he never remains long in one place.”

“Does any one know when he will return?” asked Nagendra.

“I have some business with him, therefore I also made that inquiry, but no one can tell me.”

“How long is it since he left?”

“About a month.”

“Could any one show me the house of Haro Mani Boisnavi, of this village?”

“Haro Mani’s house stood by the roadside; but it exists no longer, it has been destroyed by fire.”

Nagendra pressed his forehead.  In a weak voice he asked, “Where is Haro Mani?”

“No one can say.  Since the night her house was burned she has fled somewhere.  Some even say that she herself set fire to it.”

In a broken voice Nagendra asked, “Did any other woman live in her house?”

“No.  In the month Sraban a stranger, falling sick, stayed in her house.  She was placed there by the Brahmachari.  I heard her name was Surja Mukhi.  She was ill of consumption; I attended her, had almost cured her.  Now—­”

Breathing hard, Nagendra repeated, “Now?”

“In the destruction of Haro Mani’s house the woman was burnt.”

Nagendra fell from his chair, striking his head severely.  The blow stunned him.  The doctor attended to his needs.

Who would live in a world so full of sorrow?  The poison tree grows in every one’s court.  Who would love? to have one’s heart torn in pieces.  Oh, Creator! why hast Thou not made this a happy world?  Thou hadst the power if Thou hadst wished to make it a world of joy!  Why is there so much sorrow in it?

When, at evening, Nagendra Natha left Madhupur in his palanquin, he said to himself—­

“Now I have lost all.  What is lost—­happiness? that was lost on the day when Surja Mukhi left home.  Then what is lost now—­hope?  So long as hope remains to man all is not lost; when hope dies, all dies.”

Now, therefore, he resolved to go to Govindpur, not with the purpose of remaining, but to arrange all his affairs and bid farewell to the house.  The zemindari, the family house, and the rest of his landed property of his own acquiring, he would make over by deed to his nephew, Satish Chandra.  The deed would need to be drawn up by a lawyer, or it would not stand.  The movable wealth he would send to Kamal Mani in Calcutta, sending Kunda Nandini there also.  A certain amount of money he would reserve for his own support in Government securities.  The account-books of the estate he would place in the hands of Srish Chandra.