"What's your name
and residence?"
"Sadhu Sheikh, of Simulgachi."
"Now, do you know who I am?"
"No-o," replied Sadhu, hesitatingly.
"I am Ramani Babu's new bailiff, sent with these men to see that his
market is well attended."
Sadhu's tone completely changed. "Salam, Babu," he whined. "I did
not know who you were. Please let me pass or I shall be too late."
"Not so fast, friend," shouted the bailiff. "Once for all, are you
going to obey me or not?"
Sadhu prodded his bullocks into a lumbering canter; but the bailiff
gave a signal to his clubmen, who ran after him, dragged him out of
the cart, and thrashed him soundly. Then two of them escorted him, with
his wares, to their master's market, which was being held about three
miles away. The bailiff waited at the crossing for new arrivals. They
were not long in coming. A fishwoman, heavily laden, passed by. He
hailed her, and on learning whither she was bound, ordered his men
to drag her to their master's market, which they did, despite the
volume of abuse which she hurled at their heads. In this manner some
half a dozen deserters were captured and escorted to the old market.
The story of his tyranny spread like wildfire through neighbouring
villages, with many amplifications, of course.
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