ing with the straps of the great
packing case. Field, watching everything intently, asked Berrington what
he thought of it all.

"I hardly know what to think," the latter whispered. "This has been a
night of surprises--therefore you will be prepared to hear that I know
the man Bentwood well."

"You mean that you knew him in India?" Field asked.

"Yes, years ago. He was an army surgeon, and quite the cleverest man at
his profession that I ever had the privilege to meet. He might have made
a large fortune in England, but he got into some trouble and had to
leave the country. It was much the same in India. Bentwood had a
positive genius for the occult and underground. After a time very few
white people cared to associate with him and he became the companion of
the dervishes and the mullahs and all that class, whose secrets he
learned. I believe he is the only European who ever went through the
process of being buried alive. That secret was never betrayed before,
and yet yonder fellow got to the bottom of it. Also he learned all the
secret poisons that they use out yonder, and we were pretty sure that he
was mixed up in the great scandal that followed the sad death of the
Rajah of Abgalli. You recollect that?"

Field nodded. He had a fine memory for all stories of that kind.

"We always said that Bentwood was the actual culprit, and that he
experimented with certain poisons that produced quite new results. Some
said that the Rajah committed suicide. Perhaps the poison administered
to him took that form. Anyway, Bentwood disappeared, and it was
generally understood that he met his death by falling out of a boat when
shooting sea fowl. That was the story that one of his servants brought
back, but we could never ascertain how far that fellow was in his
master's pay. Anyway, a year later one of our men came back from his
long leave, saying that he had seen Bentwood at Monte Carlo, and that he
appeared to be bursting with money. Another of ours was reported to have
seen him after that, almost in rags, in London. Anyway, he is an
amazingly clever man, and perhaps one of the greatest scamps that ever
lived. Still, if we get any luck to-night, he will almost have shot his
bolt."

"I think you may safely reckon upon that," Field said drily. "It's
exceedingly lucky for me that I ran up against you in this way, Colonel.
But for that accident I should have been utterly at fault. Anyway, I
should not be here at this moment."

T