"That made me very ratty, sir," said the Bengali. "What! should I tell tales out of school? But when those fearful bounders threatened to roast me at my own fire I reflected that it could not be your wish, nor the wish of your excellent progenitor, that a failed B.A. of Calcutta University should be roast joint for the sake of a quantity of villainous saltpetre, et cetera, and therefore I owned up. But while the banditti were gloating and slapping their backs I took French leave by the back door, and lo! ensconced behind the barn was Coja, who like me had saved his bacon." From their hiding-place they watched the proceedings of the enemy. They first of all carried all the rifles out of the bungalow; then from the little outhouse adjoining it they brought all the ammunition and all the "trade." The place had been stripped bare, as the Bengali found when he examined it after the men had gone. The negroes had then shouldered the loot under the direction of three Swahilis who had guns, and when they had marched off, the Swahilis had kindled a fire in the little space between the floor of the bungalow and the ground. Then they had hurried off after the rest. As soon as they had disappeared, Coja and the Bengali emerged from their hiding-places, and extinguished the fire with water from the rain-water tank near the dairy. Very little damage had been done, the incendiaries having been in such haste to overtake the rest of their party that they had not waited to ensure a good blaze. In the first shock of hearing this bad news both John and Ferrier used such language as might have been expected of them. It was only too clear now that the sheep-stealing had been a mere blind, cunningly devised to decoy them from the farm while the real raid was effected. To John it was a disaster. When he hurried into the outhouses and bungalow and found that rifles, ammunition, and every bundle of "trade" were gone, he felt that ruin stared him in the face. It is not surprising that, tired out after his long day’s work, he saw things even blacker than they were. There was still a balance at the bank, Cousin Sylvia having insisted on paying all the expenses of Mr. Halliday’s tour; though if John drew upon that there would be little or no reserve in case the second year’s working turned out unprofitable. Meanwhile the actual loss was heavy, and the inconvenience perhaps greater, for without the "trade" he could not pay the labourers from the village, and what with the lack of wages and the damage to their employer’s prestige, John foresaw a refusal to work any more.