Considering that the magistrate in question, being more or less in feudal relations with the Thakoors of Dhurmkote, had strained many a point in favour of their extravagance, the acquaintance was indisputable; yet the Rana-_sahib's salaam_ was of the curtest compatible with courtesy to the introducer, and he drew Jack Raymond aside to continue in a lower voice-- 'They want me to be ready in ten minutes, and that means ruin; for some fool set fire to a bit of my best set piece, and 'twill take twenty to repair.' 'But why not begin with something else?' suggested his hearer. The Thakoor's face was a study in triumph and disappointment. 'Because it is a welcome to the Lât-_sahib_, and a welcome must come first. And it is new also--a welcome in roman candles and sulphur stars; my reputation is in it.' 'Then why not show it as it is, and explain the accident?' The Thakoor looked uncertain. 'That might be. How would it look, think you, _sahib_, "God," then a blank--for that is where the damage comes in--"our new Lieutenant-Governor"? Would it be understanded, think you? Would it look well--in Roman candles and sulphur stars?' 'God blank--that is where the damage lies,' repeated Jack Raymond thoughtfully, and then he laughed. He had to recover himself, however, hastily at the old man's bewildered face, and say gravely, 'I don't think it _would_ look very well, Rana-_sahib_, especially in Roman candles and sulphur stars.' Here another laugh obtruded itself, and he added as a cover to it, 'But I can tell you what I _can_ do for you--refreshments. I know _they_ are ready. I'll go off now and get the "roastbeef" sounded.' The old chieftain stood looking after him as he went off enthusiastically. 'May the gods keep him! that is a man,' he said aloud to himself. 'If all the _sahibs_ were as he, a friend----' 'India would be the happier. She needs such friends,' said Chris Davenant suddenly. He had been trying to make up his mind ever since the meeting at Hâfiz Ahmad's house, to take some decided step towards organising a real party of progress. To do this in a way that would ensure confidence with both the Government and the people, it was necessary to secure some men of real influence; and the Thakoor was one. His word went far, both West and East; and fate had placed him within earshot. So Chris had spoken; his heart, to tell truth, in his mouth, as the old man turned scowling. But something in the young one's face, perhaps a look of his dead father, perhaps its own inherent goodness, made the Thakoor, instead of ignoring the remark, say curtly-- 'I see it not. What friends does India need?' Then Chris pulled himself together for speech, and the old man listened, first contemptuously, then with tolerance. 'Thou speakest well,' he said, nodding approval. 'And as thou sayest, the people need leaders, not _baboos_. Come to my house some day, and----'