--because this unpromising specimen of manhood had
incidentally brought him and Desmond together, he held out his hand.
"'Fraid I lost my temper," he said casually, for form's sake. "But you
put my blood up."

Chandranath's fingers lay limply in his grasp.

"Still so sensitive----? Then better to clear out of India. I only
pushed that crazy girl aside. Englishmen knock and kick our people
without slightest compunction. Perhaps you are a tourist--or new to this
country?"

Words and manner set Roy's nerves on edge; but he had been imprudent
enough for one day. "I've spent seven months on the Frontier in a
cavalry Regiment," he said; "but I only came to Jaipur yesterday."

"Well, take my advice, Mr Sinclair, and leave these people alone. They
don't want Englishmen making pretence of sentimental fuss over them.
They like much better to be pushed--or even starved--by their own _jat_.
You may not believe it. But I belong to them. So I know."

Roy, who also 'belonged' in a measure, very nearly said so--but again
prudence prevailed. "I'm rash enough to disagree with you," he said
placably. "The question of non-interference, of letting ill
alone--because one's afraid or can't be bothered--isn't merely a race
question; it's a root question of human character. Some men can't pass
by on the other side. Right or wrong, it simply isn't arguable. It's a
matter of the individual conscience--the heart----"

"Conscience and heart--if not drastically disciplined by the logically
reasoning brain, propagate the majority of troubles that afflict
mankind," quoth Chandranath in the manner of one familiar with platform
oratory. "Are you stopping in Jaipur?"

"Yes. At the Residency. Mrs Leigh is Desmond's sister. Did you know?"

"That is curious. I did not know. Too much heart and conscience there
also. Mrs Leigh is thrusting her fingers into complicated issues of
which she is lamentably ignorant."

Roy, taken aback, nearly gave himself away--but not quite. "I gather she
acted with Sir Lakshman Singh's approval," was all he said.

Chandranath shrugged. "Sir Lakshman is an able but deluded man. His
dreams of social reform are obsolete. We of the new school adhere
patriotically to social and religious ordinances of the Mother. All we
agitate for is political independence." He unfurled the polysyllables,
like a flag; sublimely unaware of having stated a contradiction in
terms. "But your Sir Lakshman is of the old-fashioned
school--Engli