'I am quite alarmed to hear it,' said the mother. Please lock him up in a room at
night, otherwise he may call in a burglar and show him round. Left alone, a burglar
might after all be less successful. It wouldn't be so bad if he at least barked. He is the
most noiseless dog I have ever seen in my life.'
The young man was extremely irritated at this. He considered it to be the most
uncharitable cynicism, but the dog justified it that very night.
Ranga lived in a hut, three miles from the town. He was a 'gang coolie'-often
employed in road-mending. Occasionally at nights he enjoyed the thrill and profit of
breaking into houses. At one o'clock that night Ranga removed the bars of a window
on the eastern side of the house and slipped in. He edged along the wall, searched
all the trunks and almirahs in the house and made a neat bundle of all the jewellery
and other valuables he could pick up.
He was just starting to go out. He had just put one foot out of the gap he had made
in the window when he saw Attila standing below, looking up expectantly. Ranga
thought his end had come. He expected the dog to bark. But not Attila. He waited
for a moment, grew tired of waiting, stood up and put his forepaws on the lap of
the burglar. He put back his ears, licked Ranga's hands and rolled his eyes. Ranga
whispered, 'I hope you aren't going to bark...'
'Don't you worry. I am not the sort,' the dog tried to say.
Just a moment. Let me get down from here,' said the burglar.
The dog obligingly took away his paws and lowered himself.
"See there,' said Ranga, pointing to the backyard, there is a cat.' Attila put up his
ears at the mention of the cat and dashed in the direction indicated. One might
easily have thought he was going to tear up a cat, but actually he didn't want to
miss the pleasure of the company of a cat if there was one.
As soon as the dog left him Ranga made a dash for the gate. Given a second more he
would have hopped over it. But the dog turned and saw what was about to happen
and in one spring was at the gate. He looked hurt. 'Is this proper?' he seemed to ask.
Do you want to shake me off?'
Attila liked his new friend so much that he wouldn't leave him alone even for a
moment. He lay before Ranga when he sat down to eat, sat on the edge of his mat
when he slept in his hut, waited patiently on the edge of the pond when Ranga went
there now and then for a wash, slept on the roadside when Ranga was at work. This
sort of companionship got on Ranga's nerves. He
implored 'Oh, dog. Leave me alone for a moment,
won't you?' Unmoved, Attila sat before him with
his eyes glued on his friend.
Attila's disappearance created a sensation in the
bungalow. 'Didn't I tell you, the mother said,
'to lock him up? Now some burglar has gone
away with him. What a shame! We can hardly
mention it to anyone.'
"You are mistaken,' replied the defender. It is
just a coincidence. He must have gone off on
his own account. If he had been here no thief
would have dared to come in...'
'Whatever it is, I don't know if we should
after all thank the thief for taking away
that dog. He may keep the jewels
as a reward for taking him away.
Shall we withdraw the police
complaint?'
He hung his heavy tail down so loosely and looked so miserable that the burglar
stroked his head, at which he revived. The burglar opened the gate and went out,
and the dog followed him. Attila's greatest ambition in life was to wander in the
streets freely. Now things seemed to be shaping up ideally,
cynicism: distrust
obligingly helpfully
implored: begged
Answers
Answered by
2
Answer:
it's a very interesting passage
Answered by
0
Answer:
to stop him from helping a burglar
Hope it's helpful to you
Similar questions