Then indeed a flush rose to the Kashmiri’s pale cheek, and he looked perplexed and troubled. Kripá Dé had indeed received the Christian faith in all sincerity; but brought up as he had been in an atmosphere of falsehood, he could hardly be expected to have that abhorrence of a sin which he, hardly recognized to be one which was a characteristic of the English youth. Robin translated Kripá Dé’s words to Alicia, who was more indulgent to the weakness of the convert. “Do you not think,” she observed, “that in some cases it may be pardonable to deceive, such as this, for instance, where life itself may be at stake, or the safety of a soul?” “Surely such deceit comes from want of faith,” replied Robin. “Can we believe that He who created the universe, and called the dead from their graves, cannot save bodies or souls without our trying to help Him by breaking His laws?” “But what is to be done now?” cried Alicia, looking distressed. “It is of such importance for us to gain information regarding Premi, and only Kripá Dé can procure it. What is to be done?” she repeated more earnestly, as Robin gave no immediate reply. “Kripá Dé must _not_ go back to the fort,” replied Robin with decision. “If he go, he will assuredly be questioned; he may even be asked whether he has eaten with us and broken his caste. Caste is all nonsense to us; but to Hindus, and specially Brahmins, to eat with Christians is a far worse crime than slandering or stealing. If Kripá Dé be thus questioned, he will be tempted to lie; and if he do not lie—” “He will be imprisoned, perhaps murdered,” cried Alicia. “Likely enough,” was the rejoinder. “So we must keep him under our eye.” “And poor Premi, what is to become of her?” “Do you not think that the Lord cares for the poor young widow at least as much as we do?” said Robin. “My father has gone to try to procure a Government warrant for Premi to be produced in court. All that we can do, at least so it seems to me now, is for us to pray that he may succeed.” Very earnest prayer was offered, both in English and in Urdu—in the latter for the sake of Kripá Dé, who could not otherwise have joined in or have understood the petitions offered up. In the evening, when alone with the convert, Robin tried to impress on Kripá Dé the necessity under which every real Christian lies to speak the truth always, and to fear nothing but sin. “If you do not hate falsehood,” said the young evangelist, “where is the proof that you love Him who is the Truth as well as the Life?” “Did I not give proof of my love for Christ,” replied the Kashmiri, “when for His sake I threw away my Brahminical thread?” Robin was not yet sufficiently versed in Hindu customs to understand the full force of this simple appeal. “Was it then such an overwhelming trial to part with a thread?” he inquired.