The Colonel clenched his teeth half-way through the first oath he had ever allowed himself in the presence of ladies. He was not an unusually egoistical man, but his first thought was one of unutterable gratitude that in the moment of strong temptation his wife had held an obstinate hand on the purse-strings. The first person to speak was Mrs. Cary. She leaned half-way across the table. "And my money?" she said thickly and unsteadily. "Where's my money? Where's my money? Tell me that!" Travers shrugged his shoulders. "I fear it has gone the way of mine and of the other share-holders'," he said. "Nor can I hold out any hopes of its coming back. The expenses of the mine have been terribly heavy, the workmen have been extremely well paid--extremely well paid." There was a distinct note of reproach in his voice, though he looked at no one. Mrs. Cary sat down in her seat. It was a pitiful and almost terrible sight to see her, all the florid, vulgar ostentation and sleek content dashed out of her, leaving her with pasty cheeks and horror-stricken, staring eyes to face the ruined future. Mrs. Berry burst into ever-ready tears. "Oh!" she sobbed. "What will my husband say! I told him it was such a good thing--it isn't my fault. What will he say!" The sharp, wailing tones broke through Mrs. Cary's momentary paralysis. She sat up and brought her fat clenched fist down with a bang upon the table. "You!" she half screamed at the Rajah. "You--you black swindler--you thief--it's you who have done it--you who have ruined us all with your wicked schemes. You baited us with this clubhouse--you pretended you wanted to do us such a lot of good, didn't you? And all the time you meant to feather your own nest with diamonds and the Lord knows what. Give us back our money, you heathen swindler! For you aren't a Christian! You pretended that, too, just as a blind--" Her flow of frightful coarse invectives came to an abrupt end. Colonel Carmichael, who knew now why his presence had been required, leaned forward and pushed her firmly down in her seat. "For Heaven's sake, Mrs. Cary, hold your tongue!" he expostulated, in a rapid, emphatic undertone. "You don't know what you are saying. You are not in England. A little more of that sort of thing, and our lives aren't worth an hour's purchase." "I don't care," she retorted, with all the headlong brutality of her origin. "It's true what I say! It's true!"