THE WRECK
It was most unlikely that Akshay would leave the train at any of the other stations.
Fatigued though Ramesh was, it was late before he fell asleep. Early in the morning the train reached Goalundo — the terminus at which passengers embark for Eastern Bengal — and Ramesh caught sight of Akshay hurrying towards the river-steamers, with his head and face muffled in a shawl, carrying a hand-bag. The boat which was bound for Ramesh's village would not start for some hours, but there was another at the landing-place, with steam up, whistling impatiently. "Where does this one go?" asked Ramesh.
"West," was the reply.
"How far?"
"Up to Benares if there's enough water in the river."
Ramesh at once installed Kamala in one of the cabins and hurried ashore to lay in a stock of rice and pulse, milk and plantains, for the journey. Akshay, in the meantime, had embarked on the other steamer ahead of every one else and had taken up a position from which he could survey the whole crowd. The pas- sengers who intended to embark on this vessel showed no particular haste, as she was not yet due to start; they spent the interim in washing or bathing, and some of them even cooked their food and ate it on the river- bank.
Akshay supposed that Ramesh had taken Kamala to some eating-house in the neighbourhood for breakfast, but as he did not know his way about in Goalundo he thought it safer to remain on board.
At last the whistle blew, but still there was no sign of Ramesh. The passengers began to stream on board across the swaying plank that served for a gangway. As the whistle became more insistent late-comers hur- ried on board, but still Ramesh was not to be seen either among the new arrivals or among those who had already embarked.
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