e of the wealth thus dangled
before him, but he saw no reason to suppose that there was another cobra
anywhere in the garden, so he answered with the calm confidence of an
expert, "That cannot be done. The serpent will not heed any pipe now. In
its mind there is only revenge."

"Then what will it do?" said the trembling Bunia.

"If its mate died by the hand of a man, it will follow that man until
it has accomplished its purpose."

"But how will it know," asked Beharilal, "by whose hand its mate died?"

Nagoo replied with pious simplicity, "How can I tell by what means it
knows? God informs it."

"But," pleaded Beharilal, "is there no escape?--if a man goes away by
the railway or by water?"

Nagoo pondered for a moment and said, "If a man crossed the sea, the
serpent would be baulked. If he goes by railway it will not leave him.
Let him go to Madras, it will find him."

With a faltering hand the Bunia put some rupees, uncounted, into the
charmer's skinny palm, saying, "Go, make incantations. Do something.
There is great knowledge of mysteries with you"; and he hurried back
into the house.

His arrangements were very soon made. His account books, with a bundle
of bonds and hoondies and cash and his son, were put into a small cart
drawn by a pair of fast trotting bullocks, into which he himself
climbed, after looking under the cushion to see that there was no evil
beast lurking there, and got away in haste while the sun was yet hot.
The rest of the family followed with the household property, and in a
few days the house was empty and only the Malee remained in charge. Many
years have passed and the house is empty still, and the Malee, grown
grey and frail, is still in charge. He gets no wages, but he sells the
jasmine flowers and the mangoes and guavas, and he grows chillies and
brinjals, and so fills the stomachs of himself and his little grandson
and is contented. If you ask him where the Seth has gone, he replies,
"Who knows?" His debt has gone with his creditor, "gone glimmering
through the dream of things that were," and he has no desire to recall
them.

A civil or military officer from the station, taking a solitary walk,
sometimes finds himself at the Cobra Bungalow, and turns in to wander
among its old trees and unswept paths, obstructed by overgrown and
untended shrubs, and wonders how it got its name. Then he pauses at the
whitewashed shrine and notes that the god-stone has been freshly painted
red an