"I am here to report all things to Colonel Antony, Maharaj-ji, not one side of the case only." The Rajah's eyes were flashing, and Gerrard waited for an outburst of anger, but none came. "But how did your Highness learn of the man's visit?" he asked. "From whom but from Dwarika Nath? I looked to hear of it from my friend, but I waited in vain." "I did not desire to be the means of the man's death," said Gerrard, rather lamely. "And why does not my friend tell me that Dwarika Nath offered to conceal the matter in return for a gift?" "Your Highness does not mean to say that Dwarika Nath confessed that?" cried Gerrard. Partab Singh enjoyed his astonishment for a moment. "Nay," he said softly, "the whole matter was recounted to me by one whom I can trust, who was on the watch from the beginning to the end, so that when Dwarika Nath, with many protestations of fidelity and condolence, made known to me the treachery of my friend, I was able to remind him that he had been willing to cover that treachery for money. For this he has received due punishment." Gerrard remained silent a moment, Dwarika Nath's interview with him in his tent, and the expulsion of the disgraced Diwan from the city, jostling one another in his mind. Then quite another thought came upper-most. "So you set spies on me in my own tent, Maharaj-ji!" he cried indignantly. "And you call me your friend!" "The wise man calls no one friend whom he has not tested when they are apart as well as when they are together," was the calm reply. "Do I not honour my friend by enabling the lustre of his character to shine forth even when he believes himself alone?" "I said these walls seemed to have eyes!" muttered Gerrard. "I suppose your Highness's spies are here also?" "You are watched from morning to night, and again from night to morning," said the Rajah with pride. "Even on your sacred day, when you worshipped your God in the company of the half-breed physician, my eyes were upon you." Gerrard moved angrily. Among the verbal counsels with which Colonel Antony supplemented his official instructions to his assistants, there was one which invariably occurred; "I make no suggestion as to your action when alone, though you are acquainted with my own practice. But when there is even one other Christian within reach, it is my earnest entreaty that you will invite him to join with you on Sundays in the worship of God. Believe me, this will bring you no discredit among the heathen, but rather the contrary." The "one other Christian" in this case was Moraes, who regarded compliance with the invitation as an additional sin to be confessed and expiated on his return home, and Gerrard felt a natural resentment at the thought of the curious eyes that had watched the proceedings. He rose abruptly. "Since you trust me so little, Maharaj-ji, I had better go. Have I your leave to depart?"