ght about their pain.

Boulte, the Engineer, Mrs. Boulte, and Captain Kurrell know this. They
are the English population of Kashima, if we except Major Vansuythen,
who is of no importance whatever, and Mrs. Vansuythen, who is the most
important of all.

You must remember, though you will not understand, that all laws weaken
in a small and hidden community where there is no public opinion. When
a man is absolutely alone in a Station he runs a certain risk of
falling into evil ways. This risk is multiplied by every addition to the
population up to twelve the Jury-number. After that, fear and consequent
restraint begin, and human action becomes less grotesquely jerky.

There was deep peace in Kashima till Mrs. Vansuythen arrived. She was a
charming woman, every one said so everywhere; and she charmed every
one. In spite of this, or, perhaps, because of this, since Fate is so
perverse, she cared only for one man, and he was Major Vansuythen. Had
she been plain or stupid, this matter would have been intelligible to
Kashima. But she was a fair woman, with very still gray eyes, the colour
of a lake just before the light of the sun touches it. No man who had
seen those eyes could, later on, explain what fashion of woman she was
to look upon. The eyes dazzled him. Her own sex said that she was 'not
bad-looking, but spoilt by pretending to be so grave.' And yet her
gravity was natural. It was not her habit to smile. She merely went
through life, looking at those who passed; and the women objected while
the men fell down and worshipped.

She knows and is deeply sorry for the evil she has done to Kashima; but
Major Vansuythen cannot understand why Mrs. Boulte does not drop in
to afternoon tea at least three times a week. 'When there are only two
women in one Station, they ought to see a great deal of each other,'
says Major Vansuythen.

Long and long before ever Mrs. Vansuythen came out of those far-away
places where there is society and amusement, Kurrell had discovered
that Mrs. Boulte was the one woman in the world for him and you dare
not blame them. Kashima was as out of the world as Heaven or the Other
Place, and the Dosehri hills kept their secret well. Boulte had no
concern in the matter. He was in camp for a fortnight at a time. He was
a hard, heavy man, and neither Mrs. Boulte nor Kurrell pitied him. They
had all Kashima and each other for their very, very own; and Kashima
was the Garden of Eden in those days. When B