"H'm, h'm," said the archdeacon. "Of course there's something in what you say. Slow and sure. Things may be going too fast, and, as I say, I'm entirely for putting down violence and illegality with a strong hand. And after all, my dear Sir, when you say we're the superior race you imply a duty. Even in secular matters we must spread the light. I believe--devoutly--I am not ashamed to say so--that we are. We're reaching the people there, it's the cause of the unrest, we set them an example. They desire to follow. Surely, surely we should help to guide their feet. I don't speak without a certain knowledge. I take a great interest, I may even say that I play my small part, in the work of one of our great missionary societies. I see our young men, many of them risen from the people, educated often, and highly educated (I venture to think), in Board Schools. I see them go out full of high ideals to live among those poor people. And I see them when they come back and tell me their tales honestly, unostentatiously. It is always the same, a message of hope and comfort. We are getting at the people, by example, by our lives, by our conduct. They respect us." I heard a sort of groan, and then, quite loud, these strange words: "Kasimutal Rameswaramvaraiyil terintavan." "I beg your pardon," said the Archdeacon, turning to the interrupter. "I beg yours. Tamil, Tamil proverb. Came into my mind. Spoke without thinking. Beg yours." "Not at all. Very interesting. You've lived in India? Would you mind my asking you for a translation?" "It means 'he knows everything between Benares and Rameswaram.' Last time I heard it, an old Tamil, seventy or eighty years old, perhaps--he looked a hundred--used it of one of your young men. The young man, by the bye, had been a year and a half in India. D'you understand?" "Well, I'm not sure I do: I've heard, of course, of Benares, but Rameswaram, I don't seem to remember the name." I laughed; I could not help it; the little Anglo-Indian looked so fierce. "Ah!" he said, "you don't recollect the name. Well, it's pretty famous out there. Great temple--Hindu--right at the southern tip of India. Benares, you know, is up north. The old Tamil meant that your friend knew everything in India after a year and a half: he didn't, you know, after seventy, after seven thousand years. Perhaps you also don't recollect that the Tamils are Dravidians? They've been there since the beginning of time, before we came, or the Dutch or Portuguese or the Muhammadans, or our cousins, the other Aryans. Uncivilized, black? Perhaps, but, if they're black, after all it's _their_ suns, through thousands of years, that have blackened them. They ought to know, if anyone does: but they don't, they don't pretend to. But you two gentlemen, you seem to know everything between Kasimutal--that's Benares--and Rameswaram, without having seen the sun at all."