There was an arena at Baroda where elephants, tigers and lions had fought in former days to amuse the court, and in front of this old arena, Malar Rao built a palace. It was exquisitely finished and very costly, and at the main entrance there were two guns of solid gold, mounted on silver carriages. Not far from the city there was an ancient idol, and at its shrine the Gaikwar built a splendid temple. Those who know about these things say that though it is modern, its workmanship is as wonderful as that of the famous old temples of the land. As Colonel Phayre saw all this, and far, far more, his heart was hot within him, for he knew that the Gaikwar was building all these things with money that he had stolen from his people by taking bribes and by cruel taxes. But the Englishman did not see that he could prevent it, until he heard of the pearl and diamond rug. The jewellers of India searched for three years in order to get the gems that were needed for it and for the pillows, and when at last all were finished the Gaikwar made arrangements to give them as a gift to one of his favourites. When Colonel Phayre heard that the woven jewels, the cost of which had been wrung from the people, were to be given away, he refused to allow it. He said that the jewels belonged to the state of Baroda, and were not Malar Rao’s to give. Now the Gaikwar had set his heart on giving this present to his favourite, and he was so enraged that nothing was too wild for him to attempt. He asked to see Colonel Phayre, and with every show of friendship he invited him to drink his health. The cup of pomola juice was handed to the guest, but an instinctive feeling of suspicion warned the Englishman, and he refused to drink. And it was well, for in the cup there was the dust of diamonds. Once before the Gaikwar had served his end by ground jewel dust. He had killed his brother so, and had ruled in his stead. When he was brought to trial, this and many other things were found out, for his brother was not the only man whom he had killed unjustly. When he was condemned, the widow of the brother whom he had poisoned was asked to adopt a son, to be the ruler of Baroda, and the boy whom she chose grew up to be a clever and an able man. He has changed the whole life of the state, for he thinks of his people, and seeks to give them many things to make life brighter and easier for them. And as Baroda is called the “garden of India,” the children who live there enjoy much of what is happiest in Hindu life. Famine scarcely ever comes there, for the Nerbudda river waters the valley, and the rain clouds that cross the ocean are never spent ere they reach it.