"That was in the bad-water shop where I played when we came here. The boy who would not sell me the mynah for six annas told me that a one-eyed man had come there and drunk the bad waters and gone mad. He broke bedsteads. They hit him with a bamboo till he fell senseless, and, fearing he was dead, they nursed him on milk like a little baba. When I was playing first with the cow's child I asked Beshakl if he were that man, and he said no. But I knew, because many wood-cutters asked him whether his head were whole now." "But why," I interrupted, "did Beshakl tell lies?" "Oh! he is a low-caste man, and desired consideration. Now he is a witness in a great law-case, and men will go to the jailkhana on his account. It was to give trouble and obtain notice." "Was it all lies?" said Strickland, "Ask him," said Adam, cheerily, through the mango-juice. Strickland passed through the door; there was a howl of despair in the servants' quarters up the hill, and he returned with the one-eyed groom. "Now," said Strickland, "it is known. Declare!" "Beshakl," said Adam, while the man gasped. "Imam Din has caught four men, and there are some more at Peshawur. Bus! Bus! Bus! Tell about the mare and how she rolled." "Thou didst get drunk by the wayside, and didst make a false case to cover it. Speak!" Like many other men, Strickland, in possession of a few facts, was irresistible. The groom groaned. "I - I did not get drunk - till - till - Protector of the Poor, the mare rolled." "All horses roll at Dhunnera. The road is too narrow before that, and they smell where the other horses have rolled. This the bullock-drivers told me when they came there," said Adam. "She rolled. The saddle was cut, and the curb-chain was lost." "See!" said Adam, tugging a curb-chain from his pocket. "That woman in the shop gave it to me for a love-gift. Beshakl said it was not his when I showed it. But I knew." "Then they in the grog-shop, knowing that I was the servant of the Presence, said that unless I drank and spent money they would tell." "A lie. A lie," said Strickland. "Son of an owl, speak truth now at least." "Then I was afraid because I had lost the curb-chain, so I cut the saddle across and about." "She did not roll, then?" said Strickland, bewildered and very angry. "It was the curb-chain that was lost. That was the beginning of all. I cut the saddle to look as though she had rolled, and went to drink in the shop. I drank, and there was a fray. The rest I have forgotten, till I was recovered." "And the mare the while? What of the mare?" The man looked at Strickland, and collapsed. "I will speak truth. She bore fagots for a wood-cutter for a week." "Oh, poor Diamond!" said Mrs. Strickland. "And Beshaki was paid four annas for her hire three days ago by the wood-cutter's brother, who is the left-hand man of the jhampanis here," said Adam, in a loud and joyful voice. "We all knew. We all knew. I and all the servants."