the whole village, and not find him—that would be rare fun also.
At noon, Jaganath shut the boy up in his house, and disappeared for some time. When he came home again, Nitai worried him with questions.
No sooner was it dark than Nitai said: "Grandfather, shall we go now?"
"It isn't night yet," replied Jaganath.
A little while later the boy exclaimed: "It is night now, grandfather; come let's go."
"The village people haven't gone to bed yet," whispered Jaganath.
Nitai waited but a moment, and said: "They have gone to bed now, grandfather; I am sure they have. Let's start now."
The night advanced. Sleep began to weigh heavily on the eyelids of the poor boy, and it was a hard struggle for him to keep awake. At midnight, Jaganath caught hold of the boy's arm, and left the house, groping through the dark lanes of the sleeping village. Not a sound disturbed the stillness, except the occasional howl of a dog, when all the other dogs far and near would join in chorus, or perhaps the flapping of a night-bird, scared by the sound of human footsteps at that unusual hour.
