he smoking-room the talk turned on occultism in the East. I declared
myself a sceptic, and George was stirred. He asked me rudely what I
knew about it, and proceeded to make a startling confession of faith.
He was cross-examined by the others, and retorted with some of his
experiences. Finding an incredulous audience, his tales became more
defiant, until he capped them all with one monstrous yarn. He
maintained that in a Hindu family of his acquaintance there had been
transmitted the secret of a drug, capable of altering a man's whole
temperament until the antidote was administered. It would turn a
coward into a bravo, a miser into a spendthrift, a rake into a fakir.
Then, having delivered his manifesto he got up abruptly and went to bed.

I followed him to his room, for something in the story had revived a
memory. By dint of much persuasion I dragged from the somnolent George
various details. The family in question were Beharis, large
landholders dwelling near the Nepal border. He had known old Ram Singh
for years, and had seen him twice since his return from England. He
got the story from him under no promise of secrecy, for the family drug
was as well known in the neighbourhood as the nine incarnations of
Krishna. He had no doubt about the truth of it, for he had positive
proof. "And others besides me," said George. "Do you remember when
Vennard had a lucid interval a couple of years ago and talked sense for
once? That was old Ram Singh's doing, for he told me about it."

Three years ago it seems the Government of India saw fit to appoint a
commission to inquire into land tenure on the Nepal border. Some of
the feudal Rajahs had been "birsing yont," like the Breadalbanes, and
the smaller zemindars were gravely disquieted. The result of the
commission was that Ram Singh had his boundaries rectified, and lost a
mile or two of country which his hard-fisted fathers had won.

I know nothing of the rights of the matter, but there can be no doubt
about Ram Singh's dissatisfaction. He appealed to the law courts, but
failed to upset the commission's finding, and the Privy Council upheld
the Indian judgment. Thereupon in a flowery and eloquent document he
laid his case before the Viceroy, and was told that the matter was
closed. Now Ram Singh came of a fighting stock, so he straightway took
ship to England to petition the Crown. He petitioned Parliament, but
his petition went into the bag behind the Speaker