. He was getting on well here."

Dermot smiled grimly and touched the cord and spectacles.

"The man who wore these, who led the Bhuttias in the raid, was Narain
Dass."

These was a moment's amazed silence in the room. Then a hubbub arose, and
there was a chorus of exclamations and questions.

"Good Heavens, is it possible, Major? He appeared to be such a decent,
civil chap," exclaimed Daleham.

"His face seemed familiar to me, as he lay dead on the ground," replied
Dermot. "I couldn't place him, though, until I found the spectacles. I put
them on his nose, and then I knew him. His hair was cropped close, he was
wearing Bhuttia clothes, but it was Narain Dass, the University graduate
who was working as a coolie for a few _annas_ a day."

"And he had eight hundred and fifty rupees on him," added the young
engineer.

"Yes; and if all the Bhuttias had as much as the one shot that meant over
two thousand."

"Where did they get it?"

"Who is behind all this?"

"The seditionists, of course," said an elderly planter.

"Yes; but today it isn't a question of an isolated outrage on one
Englishwoman, nor of a few Bengali lawyers in Calcutta and their dupes
among hot-headed students and ignorant peasants," said Dermot. "It's the
biggest thing we've ever had to face yet in India. What we want to get at
is the head and brains of the conspiracy."

"What do you make of this attempt on Miss Daleham?" asked Granger. "What
was the object of it?"

"Probably just terrorism. They wanted to show that no one is secure under
our rule. It may be that Narain Dass, who had worked on this garden and
seen Miss Daleham, suggested it. They may have thought that the carrying
off of an Englishwoman would make more impression than the mere bombing of
a police officer or a magistrate--we are too used to that."

"But why employ Bhuttias?" asked Payne.

"To throw the pursuers off the track and prevent their being run down. The
search would stop if we thought they'd gone across the frontier, so they
could get away easily. When they had got Miss Daleham safely hidden away in
the labyrinths of a native bazaar, perhaps in Calcutta, they'd have let
everyone know who had carried her off."

"Who was the other fellow with Narain Dass--the chap who talked Bengali?"

"Probably a Bhuttia who knew the language was given the Brahmin as an
interpreter."

"But I say, Major," cried a planter, "who the devil were the lot that
attacked you?"

"I'm ha