It was she, who for twenty long years had been the chief usurer in Rajahpore; she it was, who had lent money, taken bonds, charged huge interest, extorted pitilessly, ground down the faces of the poor, and was very wealthy. It seemed inconceivable, but it was proved beyond doubt that Rosa Chandos was no other than the notorious "Saloo." Her husband lived too much with his splendid dreams, his books, and his opium (alas! for those little black pills), to realise who Saloo was; for, as he had repeatedly assured Mr. Lepell, he had nothing to do with soucars now. His monthly salary he handed to his wife; and Rosa, his wife, was a notorious usurer! At first he declared that it was impossible--for one thing, she had no capital. "She had a large amount of capital, secured in her mother's name, in the Bank of Bengal, as well as shares in half the good things in India. She had impressed deeds and papers which did not belong to her, and she must relinquish them at once, or her office would be searched. We will wait here, Chandos," said Mr. Lepell, "and you can talk to your wife about it. These papers are the property of zemindars, her debtors; she has come by them illegally. If they are not given up, there will be a row. Salwey and I wish to manage this thing quietly, for the sake of you and your family, and that is one reason why Brian rode out here before dark and came first to me, so as to disarm any notice; but he has a search warrant in his pocket." "God knows, I have gone through many things in my life," declared Mr. Chandos, with dignity, "and I have been brought low in the world; my wife has her faults, but she is no money-lender, that is certain." It was also certain that Mrs. Chandos happened to be in a peculiarly bad temper that evening; she had had a quarrel with Dominga; and although she adored Dom, they had their little differences. Dom was the only creature who dared to withstand her mother, and their disputes were terrible. Beginning in the ordinary every-day English tongue, as the altercation waxed in fury, they passed into shrill Hindustani, from that to "Gali" (abuse), and to hear the pair when the battle was raging an outsider would have supposed them to be a couple of mad grass cutters! Mrs. Chandos was walking about the dining-room in a highly-strung condition, when her breath was almost taken away by her husband entering the room and demanding "the keys of her office!" At such an impudent request, she simply laughed in his face. "Give them at once, Rosa," he said, with astonishing decision, "and clear your character; there are terrible charges against you. If what the police say is true, you have covered us all with shame and disgrace."