"Yes, charity begins at home, as I try to remind the Collector sometimes when he turns a deaf ear to my petitions for the town," rejoined the doctor, who stood by his side. He was a short man with broad shoulders, though hollow-chested, and with an eager face, deep set eyes, and high cheek-bones--a typical Celt, thought Mark, glancing at him, noting the air of feverish energy with which he spoke, and contrasting it with Samptor's Saxon calm. "I tell you what it is--our Collector is too fond of the far-away bits of his district, and inclined to belittle his nearest plot--our teeming town down there." "Is your work in the town, Dr. Campbell?" asked Mark. "He does plenty there, anyhow. Morning, noon, and night he's at work among the Puranapore people," interrupted Mr. Samptor, looking down with a kindly smile upon the eager little man. "As District Surgeon my work is ostensibly among the English, but you see, Mr. Cheveril, what a little flock we have here since they've taken our regiment away. Of course I'd be delighted to have the chance of attending this big man here, but he never even sneezes; 'so what I do?' as the servants say. I try my hand at a little work among the Indians, and have got a dispensary in the heart of the town." "Ah, thereby hangs a tale, doesn't it, Dr. Campbell?" broke in Mrs. Samptor, always with ears alert. "I'll tell you how it is, Mr. Cheveril, this man spends his time, his money, and himself in fact, over these ungrateful black creatures. Came here for an easy post because his health wasn't good, and does more work than any other doctor on the plains of India!" "All Mrs. Samptor's embroidery, I hope you understand," said Dr. Campbell, smiling. "Well, if it were English folk he was helping I shouldn't so much mind, but these treacherous, seditious natives, I cannot away with! And there are such swarms of them, I try to suggest to the doctor that his time would be well occupied in helping to get rid of scores." "Hardly a doctor's point of view, Mrs. Samptor! Unfortunately there is too much of that among the people themselves. The mortality is awful, even when there is no epidemic or plague, not to speak of their own feuds, which are decimating at times." "The balance of power seems always wavering between the Hindus and Mahomedans in the most curious way," remarked Mr. Meakin, the young engineer. "Which is uppermost just now? Which is your jail full of at the present moment, Samptor?" "That's an official question the jailer may not be disposed to answer," said the doctor. "However, I happen to know too well who has the upper hand--and why"; and the doctor began pulling his black moustache furiously. "Come now, Campbell, we must not talk shop with the new Assistant on the very evening of his arrival," returned Samptor. "If I thought the Collector would dose him well with it in office hours I would forbear, but----" The doctor shook his head doubtfully.