cannot enter into such a compact with you or any man. Not that I'm vain enough to take it for granted that all the world is so interested in me or my forebears as to think it necessary to descant on them at every market cross, but truth and honour must be our shield and buckler," observed Mark in an earnest tone.

It was too dark for him to see the sardonic smile that crossed his companion's face, as he muttered to himself: "High-flown young fool! But I must at once annex Hester, so that I may preserve him as a useful friend in that Puranapore business. I must write to Zynool and tell him to win over the young cub, by hook or by crook, before he cuts his teeth!"

The handsome Australians were now dashing along the avenue, and halted before the broad white flight of steps of the house in Clive's Road, which in the dusk looked a genuine marble palace. Its portico of chunam pillars was gleaming like the purest white Carrara. Lamps twinkled everywhere, for its owner liked a display of light. Through the many open windows of the large dining-room one could see the dinner table, with its tall silver lamps, artistic arrangement of flowers, and elegant furnishings, round which white-robed servants flitted.

Among the gleaming pillars of the verandah stood the lady of the house clad in shimmering white, with the red water-lilies at her breast and a joyful smile on her red lips.

"Here we are," said Rayner, throwing the reins to the syce. "If Mark Cheveril, I.C.S., will honour my humble abode with his presence," he added with a histrionic air.

"A humble abode, Rayner? Say rather a palace!" said Mark, springing from the mail-phaeton.

"Well, a palace if you like," returned his host with the pride of possession in his eyes. "And there stands my princess!"

CHAPTER IV.

"I think you are most inconsiderate, Hester, to take Cheveril to that squalid suburb when he might be playing tennis with the fair Clarice at the Adyar," Mr. Rayner was saying, as his wife and their guest stood in the verandah preparing for an early morning drive.

"Except for three reasons you might call me 'inconsiderate,' Alfred," replied Hester, smiling. "First, Mark promised he would go and see Mrs. Fellowes this morning; second, he does not like tennis; and third, Royapooram isn't a squalid suburb, but one of the most picturesque military cantonments."

"Yes, it certainly looked very picturesque when it was pointed out to me from the deck of the Bokhara, with those wonderful palms dipping down it seemed into the sea. I want to make its nearer acquaintance, and I must add Mrs. Fellowes' also," said Mark, as the landau appeared, and Hester, in pretty morning apparel, took her seat in it, followed by her guest.

Her husband watched them as they drove away, then slowly returned to his darkened writing room.

"Wish they hadn't been bound for Mrs. Fellowes'," he muttered. "She affects Eurasians, I know, and Cheveril may meet some of those detestable creatures I particularly wish him to avoid. Pity I didn't give Hester a hint in time!"

Meanwhile, the landau was carrying the pair along the leafy roads towards the sea, and soon it was threading its way by the crowded First Line Beach full of bustling commercial activity. Great droves of muscular coolies were pushing loads which good British dray horses would not lightly have tackled; but the strong shiny brown limbs, made supple by frequent oilings, seemed to have no difficulty in dragging their burdens, which they did with unconscious grace, and even with cheerfulness, judging from the resonant chorus of shouts. One side of the sea front was given up to shipping in all its varieties, while the other was lined by many-hued buildings, some so evidently of the Georgian period that one did not need to glance at the date above their Greek-pillared porticos. They were intersected by higher parti-coloured buildings of chunam, and except for one or two hotels, all given up to business purposes of varying degrees of importance. Against the substantial blocks were huddled some ramshackle erections which had evidently seen better days, but which were now fast sinking into godowns for storage, their peeling façades lending picturesqueness to the street scene on which Mark was looking with keen interest.

Now the carriage was nearing the lines of the Native Infantry. Not far from them stood various detached bungalows, surrounded by compounds, where the officers sojourned, with a sprinkling of other residents who liked this suburb so near the sea. Clusters of low, thatched, mud villages, with enclosures of bamboo, where semi-nude children crawled about like sandhoppers, nestled under the groups of tall feathery palms which, Mark had noticed, seemed to dip into the sparkling waters of the ocean.

Colonel Fellowes, commanding officer of the sepoy regiment, occupied one of the pleasantest houses in Royapooram. It was a much less pretentious abode than the Rayner's house in Clive's Road, for the suburb was old and unfashionable, but its compound wore a snug social air which made it look more like a home garden, Mark thought, as he followed Hester to the house.

Mrs. Fellowes was specially delighted to see her young friend as a proof that she had not suffered from her slip on the treacherous steps of the tank. She welcomed Mark with cordiality, introducing him to her husband, a tall spare man of bony frame with a simple earnest face, bronzed by the suns of many hot weathers on Indian plains where he had trained his sepoys and loved them like children.

"Yes, the Colonel and I like to think of our bungalow as a cottage with roses looking in at the window," Mrs. Fellowes was saying, as Mark, with the keen eye of the new-comer, commented on the home-like attributes of the bungalow with its trellised verandah, where creepers twined their graceful tendrils, and roses and wisteria climbed up its amber-coloured walls and pillars. "But I hope we shan't make the mistake of some Anglo-Indians and try to reproduce it at home."

"I believe you are right, Mrs. Fellowes," returned Mark. "My father's people happen to live in Shropshire, not far from Styche Hall, Clive's birthplace, and I always regretted he should have replaced the old black-timbered house by a mansion with verandahs."

"Yes," said Colonel Fellowes, who had joined them, "I once made a pilgrimage to see that house—Clive being one of my heroes. We should have worshipped that simple black-timbered house if it had still been extant. All the same, the present one isn't the gorgeous palace Macaulay would have us believe. Poor Clive, he was much maligned, as many of the makers of India have been! What would the Carnatic, for instance, be now, but for Clive? A tiger jungle—only the tigers two-footed instead of four, and tearing each other to bits!"

"The result has been good, certainly," replied Mark, "but are you sure it was not the hungry mouth of the rapacious West, craving for pepper and cardamoms, and hankering after the fabled gold and gems of Hindustan, that brought the white men? Remember he came as a suppliant trader to these shores and first begged for crumbs!"

"Granted!" returned Colonel Fellowes. "Just as the Israelites came to the land of Canaan—sent by the same Hand. Depend upon it the hosts of our forefathers were the hosts of God, as Kingsley says. But talking of reproducing chunam palaces at home, I was amused to hear Rayner saying the other day at the Club that he had got a plan of his house in Clive's Road, and meant to reproduce it in Belgravia! 'First catch the standing room,' said I. He's an ambitious young fellow that, and a pushing one! I wish his ambition would take the form of giving his wife a good mount. I told him of a perfect one to be had at Waller's stables, but he wouldn't hear of it."

"But Mrs. Rayner used to be a keen horsewoman," said Mark, recalling vividly some pleasant rides in Worcestershire lanes.

"Well, strange as it may seem, he has an unaccountable prejudice against riding,