“Really!” he replied, “I had almost forgotten what I was going to tell you. It must have been about three or four o’clock in the morning or just before day break, as we were watching the cattle as I went along the gully, I came near running into a man. I saw at a glance that he was a European and recognized him as Mr. Smith the young magistrate.” “Smith!” I thought, “that name Smith, have I come across it again?” “And then?” I asked. He continued. “I said, ‘Good morning Mr. Smith,’ but he made no reply and slipped away as quickly as he could. I was much surprised, as it was very strange for a European to be there in that stinking gully at that time of night. It was bad enough for me, but then I had a little business there. I asked one of the servants close by who that was? ‘That is Smith Sahib,’ said he. ‘Smith Sahib!’ I exclaimed, ‘What can he be doing here at this time of night?’ The servant coolly answered, ‘The sahib has an aurat over in that muhalla there and comes to see her at night.’ You cannot hide anything from these natives.” As my friend was evidently in a gossiping mood, I checked him by asking: “Do you know anything more?” “Yes,” said he. “One night, I was aroused by a native saying that some one in the muhalla was taken with the cholera, and they wanted me to come at once. They always come to me when they are in trouble, and I am such an old fool that I always help them, so I quickly dressed and taking some cholera mixture, went to the sick man and he was soon greatly relieved. While standing by him, as he was lying on a charpoy in front of his house, I saw Mr. Smith”—“Smith again!” I groaned inwardly—“come in by the little door in the back wall and go up the narrow stairs to the upper rooms at the corner. I knew him well, yet I asked ‘Who is that Sahib?’ And they replied, ‘Smith Sahib, his woman is up there.’” My friend halted a little and I started him by asking, “And then? Did you learn nothing more?” “Yes,” said he. “Some time after, it may have been a couple of years, when the famine came, the muhalla people being in great distress sent for me and I went. A number of the poor wretches had died, really starved to death, and there were others who could barely stand alone, living skeletons, an awful sight! Strange isn’t it that with all our boasted civilization, philanthropy and religion, yet human beings die for want of work and the coarsest food to eat?” I became fidgety, thinking he was about to give me an address on political economy or religion, which at any other time I would gladly have heard, so I pulled my check rein again, “And then?” He took to the track immediately.