# Stories of Bengalee Life/Swift Retribution/Chapter 2

II
Babu Hara Govind was in charge of the Government Hospital of the town. He had grown old and commanded a large practice. There were two M. B's, and half-a-dozen L. M. S.'s in the town—but still Hara Govind Babu was in great request. No one else inspired so much confidence in the minds of the public as did Hara Govind Babu. He was so much sought after that he had scarcely time enough to have his meals in peace.
Babu Hara Govind had two sons—the elder, Ajay Chandra was studying for his B. A. degree at the Ripon College in Calcutta; the younger, Sushil attended the Zilla School of the town. Ajay was now at home during his summer holidays. He had recently been married and his wife was here also.
Babu Hara Govind returned home from the Hospital after ten o'clock that night.
"How is the Sahib, father?"—said Ajay Chandra as soon as his father arrived.
"Much better now. He was rather seriously hurt on the head—but he will be all right I hope. He has been handled very roughly, poor fellow."
"Served him right, father,—don't you think so? Just because he has a white complexion, he ​thinks he is the Viceroy himself. I am not sorry for him."
The Doctor Babu mused for a while. Then he said—"No doubt the Sahib acted wrongly. But five men attacking one man—was it a fair fight? I am ashamed at the conduct of my countrymen."
"I do not think,"—rejoined Ajay—"there ever can be a fair fight between an Englishman and an Indian."
"Why not, pray?"
"Because everything is unfair right through. Should there be a criminal case in connection with this matter for instance, would justice be done to such as are hauled up as accused?"
The Doctor smiled.
"I don't think much of your logic, Ajay."—he said.—"Because somebody else does what is wrong, is that any reason why I should act similarly?"
Ajay did not know how to meet this. After a little while he said—"What seems to me, father, is, that in such matters, number ought not to be the criterion for judging whether the fight has been fair or otherwise. A Bengalee is nothing but an individual in such cases. An Englishman on the other hand, is an individual, a member of the ruling race—and not infrequently, one vested ​with some amount of authority. So it follows that it would take three Bengalees to match an Englishman—or perhaps more than three."
"Do you know Ajay,"—said the Doctor, a little piqued—"that you insult your own nation by advancing this argument? An Englishman, like a Bengalee, is nothing but an individual. May be he is a member of the ruling race—may be he is the District Magistrate himself—but do you think that these considerations would lend additional strength to his muscles?"
"Not to his muscles certainly,—father; but wouldn't it help to strengthen his mind?"
The Doctor Babu felt the force of this argument. Aloud, he said,—"To a certain extent, no doubt, you are right, Ajay. But I can never bring myself to believe that one Bengalee wouldn't be a match for another man, to whatever nationality he may belong. In such cases, wouldn't there be strong influences acting on the mind of a Bengalee also? When one of us stands up determined to save his self-respect from being sullied, to protest against oppression and tyranny, to protect his mother, his sister from insult offered by any one—I am sure these considerations would lend additional strength to his honest arms."
About this time the house servant made his appearance and announced that supper was ​ready. Father and son walked into the inner apartments.