Mr. Hartley would not hear of this arrangement. He knew the character of Mr. Thole, and that he would be far more likely to listen to an elderly man, of whom he had seen something, than to two young missionaries who were to him utter strangers. Mr. Hartley felt that the matter might need delicate handling. Mr. Thole was one of those Government officers who pride themselves on being strictly just. The commissioner could not endure the imputation of favouring a countryman, above all if that countryman happened to be engaged in mission work, with which Mr. Thole had not the slightest sympathy. The official’s justice, like ambition, thus sometimes overleaped itself, and fell on the other side; and Mr. Thole actually showed no small tendency to partiality, from the very dread of being considered partial. Mr. Thole looked upon evangelistic efforts as a waste of money, if not an actual means of disturbing the public peace. To the commissioner it was a matter of indifference whether India were Hindu, Mohammedan, or Christian; but he was very anxious to do his duty to Government, very desirous that his district should be regarded as the most quiet and prosperous in the land. Mr. Hartley knew that to bring his frank, impetuous, and not always discreet Robin into contact with a calm, cold man of the world might utterly defeat his own desire to make Mr. Thole act in a delicate, difficult matter. The missionary therefore decided that Harold and himself should go in search of Mr. Thole, and lay before him the case of Premi. The only point conceded was that the expedition should be postponed to a later hour in the day. Six miles was a short distance, and Patwal could easily be reached before sunset. After a brief rest, Mr. Hartley on his tattu and Harold on foot were on their way to the commissioner’s encampment, to seek his aid in instituting inquiries regarding the nationality of Premi. Without the weight of his authority, it would be impossible to make inquiries at all. After watching from the veranda the departure of Mr. Hartley and her husband, Alicia, accompanied by Robin, returned to the room in which they had left the Kashmiri. Kripá Dé was not to venture out of the house, lest he should be seen by any one who might betray to his family the secret of his being amongst Christians. Alicia was struck by the anxious, thoughtful expression on the convert’s fair young face. He was seated on the floor, with his hand pressed over his eyes. “What are you thinking of, Kripá Dé?” asked Robin, taking his place on the mat beside him, so as to be on a friendly level with his companion.