very much to the surprise of any one
acquainted with the ways of their caste, are working as coolies on your
gardens, are really emissaries of the seditionists."

"By George, is that really so, Major?" asked a young planter in a doubting
tone. "We have a couple of these Bengalis on our place, and they seem such
quiet, harmless chaps."

"The Major is quite right. I know it," said one of the oldest men present.
"I confess that it didn't occur to me as strange that Brahmins should take
such low-caste work until he told me. But I have found since, as others of
us have, that these men are the secret cause of all the trouble and unrest
that we have had lately among our coolies, to whom they preach sedition and
revolution."

Several other estate managers corroborated his statement.

"But surely, sir, you don't suspect Chunerbutty of being mixed up in this?"
asked Daleham. "He's been a friend of mine for a long time. I lived with
him in London, and I'm certain he is quite loyal and pro-British."

"I know nothing of him, Daleham," replied the soldier. "But he is a Bengali
Brahmin, one of the race and caste that are responsible for most of the
sedition in India, and we must take precautions."

"I'd stake my life on him," exclaimed the boy hotly. "He's been a good
friend to me, and I'll answer for him."

Dermot did not trouble to argue the matter further with him, but said to
the company generally:

"This outrageous attempt to carry off Miss Daleham--"

"Oh, but you said yourself, sir, that the ruffians were Bhuttias," broke in
the boy, still nourishing a grievance at the mistrust of his friend.

Dermot turned to him again.

"Do Bhuttias talk to each other in Bengali? The leader gave his orders
in that language to one man--who, by the way, was the only one he spoke
to--and that man passed them on to the others in Bhutanese."

This statement caused a sensation in the company.

"By Jove, is that a fact, Dermot?" cried Payne.

"Yes. These two were the men I shot. Do Bhuttias, unless they have just
looted a garden successfully--and we know these fellows had not--carry sums
like this?" And Dermot threw on the supper-table a cloth in which coins
were wrapped. "Open that, Payne, and count the money, please."

All bent forward and watched as the planter opened the knot fastening the
cloth and poured out a stream of bright rupees, the silver coin of India
roughly equivalent to a florin. There was silence while he counted th