r of Northern India
domineers over the man in the next province, and the Behari of the
Northwest ridicules the Bengali. They are all at one on that point.
I'm giving you merely the roughest possible outlines of the facts, of
course."

Bishen Singh, his clean cut nostrils still quivering, watched the large
sweep of the whip as it traveled from the frontier, through Sindh, the
Punjab and Rajputana, till it rested by the valley of the Jumna.

"Hate--eternal and inextinguishable hate," concluded Orde, flicking the
lash of the whip across the large map from East to West as he sat down.
"Remember Canning's advice to Lord Granville, 'Never write or speak of
Indian things without looking at a map.'"

Pagett opened his eyes, Orde resumed. "And the race-hatred is only a
part of it. What's really the matter with Bisben Singh is class-hatred,
which, unfortunately, is even more intense and more widely spread.
That's one of the little drawbacks of caste, which some of your recent
English writers find an impeccable system."

The wood-carver was glad to be recalled to the business of his craft,
and his eyes shone as he received instructions for a carved wooden
doorway for Pagett, which he promised should be splendidly executed and
despatched to England in six months. It is an irrelevant detail, but in
spite of Orde's reminders, fourteen months elapsed before the work was
finished. Business over, Bishen Singh hung about, reluctant to take his
leave, and at last joining his hands and approaching Orde with bated
breath and whispering humbleness, said he had a petition to make.
Orde's face suddenly lost all trace of expression. "Speak on, Bishen
Singh," said he, and the carver in a whining tone explained that his
case against his brothers was fixed for hearing before a native judge
and--here he dropped his voice still lower till he was summarily stopped
by Orde, who sternly pointed to the gate with an emphatic Begone!

Bishen Singh, showing but little sign of discomposure, salaamed
respectfully to the friends and departed.

Pagett looked inquiry; Orde with complete recovery of his usual
urbanity, replied: "It's nothing, only the old story, he wants his case
to be tried by an English judge-they all do that-but when he began to
hint that the other side were in improper relations with the native
judge I had to shut him up. Gunga Ram, the man he wanted to make
insinuations about, may not be very bright; but he's as honest as
day-light o