The man asked how that could have happened.
Haralal remained silent.
The man said to Haralal: "Let us go upstairs together and see where you keep your money." They went up to the room and counted the money and made a thorough search of the house.
When the mother saw this she could not contain herself any longer. She came out before the stranger and said: "Baba, what has happened?" He answered in broken Hindustani that some money had been stolen.
"Stolen!" the mother cried, "Why! How could it be stolen? Who could do such a [dastardly] thing?" Haralal said to her: "Mother, don't say a word."
The man collected the remainder of the money and told Haralal to come with him to the Manager. The mother barred the way and said:
"Sir, where are you taking my son? I have brought him up, starving and straining to do honest work. My son would never touch money belonging to others."
The Englishman, not knowing Bengali, said, "Achcha! Achcha!" Haralal told his mother not to be anxious; he would explain it all to the Manager and soon be back again. The mother entreated him, with a distressed voice,
"Baba, you haven't taken a morsel of food all morning." Haralal stepped into the carriage and drove away, and the mother sank to the ground in the anguish of her heart.
The Manager said to Haralal: "Tell me the truth. What did happen?"