Guided by him the visitors explored the entire factory--saw the mills grinding the cane, saw the black sugar in liquid form, the refining processes, the furnaces; last of all, the loaf sugar in blue paper caps, ready for departure. Then they inspected the distillery, and the gigantic casks of rum--intended for the use of the army. Mr. Lepell was an enthusiast, and harangued his guests eloquently--"Sugar" was his text--then he gave them a long object-lesson in machinery; finally, they climbed up a winding, spiral staircase, and stood on the flat roof of the factory, and surveyed the whole country--a dead level, with nothing to break the monotony but an occasional village or mango tope. "Oh, what a sea of cultivation and crops!" exclaimed Verona. "Yes," assented Mr. Lepell; "India is agriculture, agriculture is India. All around you see the cane; it is a good year. The chief industry here, of course, is sugar. There are scores of private mills." "What are they like?" some one asked. "Oh, primitive affairs--a rude wheel, an ox driven round and round to crush the cane; then there is a hole in the floor, and a furnace to boil the stuff into goor, or treacle." "I suppose the people are very well off," said Verona, turning to Mr. Salwey. "They ought to be," he replied; "the cultivators pay about fifteen rupees an acre for cane, which in a good season produces two or three hundred rupees' worth of juice; but they are all in debt to the money-lenders." "How is that?" "Well, you see they have no savings or capital; they live hand to mouth. For a marriage, a birth or a funeral, they must spend largely; it is a tradition handed down for centuries; they borrow money on the coming crop, say two hundred rupees--that is fifteen pounds. For this the money-lender takes as interest, one anna per rupee per month, which is seventy per cent.; it runs up like the celebrated nail in the horse's shoe! The unfortunate ryot soon finds that the interest has trebled the original debt; in a short time the account will show that all the money due from his harvest, does not half cover the first advance! and still the interest on the debt rolls on month after month. The cultivator who once pawns his crop never gets out of the money-lender's power, but the money-lender allows him enough grain to keep the wretched man alive--who, sooner than be turned from his paternal home, becomes his bond slave for life." "Is it not dreadful?" Verona exclaimed. "Yes; the usurer makes enormous profits, and allows the other just what keeps soul and body together. He is careful not to kill the goose who lays the golden eggs--his manner is always most kind and sympathetic! The old story of burying money in a pot is dying out; usury has taken its place. Most of the money paid down in that office," and he nodded to the building below, "goes to them." "Can it not be prevented in some way, Mr. Salwey?"