On the same afternoon as Hester was enjoying the many-sided pleasures of her day at Ennore, Alfred Rayner was stepping from the train at the trim little railway station of Puranapore. He looked less brisk than ordinarily, and did not seem disposed to claim the simultaneous attentions of all the native officials in his usual self-assertive manner, but stood glancing up and down the platform with an undecided air. In fact the green flag had been waved, and the train by which he had arrived had started on its onward way, but still he seemed in no hurry to proceed. Presently the station-master approached him, and salaaming, inquired which Dorai he was on his way to visit, no carriage having appeared from the English cantonment.

Mr. Rayner was in a very uncommunicative mood. He did not disclaim any purpose of visiting one of the English residents, nor did he indicate whither he was bound. Suddenly he picked up his bag, for on second thoughts he had dismissed his dressing-boy at the Madras station, and strode off on foot, much to the surprise of the station-master, who was a comparative stranger and did not even know him by sight. The scowling Hindu ticket-collector quickly enlightened him.

"That's La'yer Rayner that done bobbery about that mosque," he remarked, and proceeded to denounce the barrister in no flattering terms, prophesying that he had reappeared to hatch fresh mischief with the plotting Zynool.

The object of these unfavourable comments was meanwhile making his way among the narrow crowded streets of the old town, and in one of the unloveliest of these he stood glancing up at a house, the front aspect of which was little more than a blank wall, its peeling chunam giving it a dreary, weather-stained appearance. Its few slits of windows looked down on the street like pairs of suspicious eyes, and its low door seemed as if it could not admit anyone of even average stature, though it gave daily ingress and egress to the ponderous figure of Zynool Sahib. At this low portal Mr. Rayner stood, tentatively looking up at the narrow windows.

"Perhaps I should have wired to announce my coming! One never knows whether an impromptu descent or not is best with these beggars. If I had warned Zynool, it would only have given him a loophole for escape if he had a mind for any reason to dodge me. His letter showed he was mad over his failure to annex that idiot, Cheveril, and he seemed actually to blame me for it!"

He had ample time for his soliloquy while he waited for a response to his knock. At length he heard the withdrawing of heavy bolts within and the door was opened. On his inquiry if Zynool Sahib was at home, a suspicious-looking servant led him along a dark, narrow passage from which he passed into a courtyard ablaze with sunshine and gay with flowering shrubs. In the centre a fountain played and goldfish disported themselves in its sparkling basin. Rows of windows with leaded panes of glass looked into the court, some of these were being hurriedly closed now, though the visitor was able to catch a glimpse of moving forms within and even of faces peering furtively down upon him.

"The harem, of course," muttered Mr. Rayner, with a scornful smile. "No, ladies, you need not fear, I'll not peep, I've no wish to anger your lord and master!"

After a little pause another servant appeared; he was evidently of a higher grade, for he pushed the other aside rudely, saying:

"Your honour will follow me! The Sahib will see!"

The visitor was led along more passages and finally shown into a large room furnished entirely after English fashions of an unrefined sort. The badly stuffed sofa and chairs covered with crimson plush looked most uninviting. On the floor was spread a crude coloured Brussels carpet, while lovely Persian rugs lay huddled on the verandah outside. The only ornament in the room was a huge musical box.

"So this is Zynool's idea of comfort! I wonder what Hester would think of this," muttered Mr. Rayner, flinging his sun-topee on the garish plush table-cloth, its neutral colour giving a relieving touch which he noted almost with comfort as he seated himself on the hard sofa. He had never before penetrated into Zynool's home, having most frequently arranged meetings with him in Madras, or, when business necessitated a visit to Puranapore, Zynool had always directed him to a room near the railway station which seemed at his disposal.

Presently the heavy curtain at the other end of the room from which he had entered was pushed aside by a fat brown hand bedecked with sparkling rings, and the master of the house stood before him, making less deferential salaam than usual, and with a frown on his face. Rayner also discerned from a certain flicker of his eyelids which half covered his beady eyes that Zynool was not in the best of tempers.

"Worse luck for me," he groaned inwardly.

"You give your humble slave one surprise, La'yer Rayner," said Zynool, licking his coarse red lips, as he disposed his heavy person on the edge of one of the plush-covered chairs. "No chit, no wire, no nossing!" he jerked, looking querulously at his visitor as he spoke.

"Upon my word, Zynool, I ought to apologise for my coming upon you in this unceremonious manner," returned Mr. Rayner, assuming his most conciliatory tone, "but we're such friends, you and I, I thought I might risk an impromptu visit. What a beautiful room you have here—quite English, I declare!"

"Ha, it pleases your Honour then!" said Zynool, visibly brightening. "This apartment has just been lately furnished all from Oakes & Company, Madras,—all perfect English—Oakes' man done assure. The carpet too, is it not a beautee?" he added, casting an admiring glance on the hideous tints.

"Perfectly lovely—such good taste! A lucky man you are, Sahib, to be able to order all these things—and to pay for them too!"

Here Mr. Rayner gave an ostentatious sigh which, however, was lost on his host, who seized the opportunity of giving vent to a rankling grievance.

"Yes, it was in your humble slave's heart to invite your friend, the new Assistant-Collector, to come and have coffee in this lovelee English room, and also to bestow many favours on that young man till he scorned me in such wise as I made known to your Honour in my chit. I expressed to your ear how his treatment was like hot charcoal thrown in my face."

"Yes, very ungrateful on Cheveril's part! But you must bear in mind, Sahib, that he's only a griffin, not an old diplomat like you. You may find him more promising next time. You and he and I will be drinking coffee together in this beautiful room, yet—take my word for it," said Mr. Rayner, in an encouraging tone as he eyed the Mahomedan closely.

"Nevere," replied Zynool, with a groan. "That one is not like Dorai Printer. I take measure of that young man, veree quick. No favour for your humble slave in that compound."

"Oh, you never can tell! And now I'll make a confidant of you, Zynool. That young man is a very particular friend of my lady. He will be coming to see us in Madras very soon. I shall not fail to tell him what a splendid fellow you are, and what a loyal servant of the Empire, and of the lovely English room you have here," Rayner continued, keeping his eye on the heavy face to watch the effect of his words, for he had a matter important to transact which had brought him to Puranapore, though it was not pressing legal business as he had indicated to his wife.

"The young man is a friend of your lady, say you? That is good! Then, La'yer Rayner, the road is straight. Your mem-sahib must doubtless do your Honour's will?" suggested Zynool, with an ugly leer.

Not having an evasive reply ready on the tip of his tongue, Rayner again applied himself to admiring his gaudy surroundings, though he almost regretted his recurring to the topic, when Zynool began to rub his fat hands gleefully, saying:

"But this is not the only English room I have on my premises. Come and see!" and drawing aside the portiÈre he disclosed a bedroom, where a shiny new brass bedstead of the commonest order stood, surrounded by the regulation furnishings. "This, too, all from Oakes & Company, Madras, quite English and veree costlee"; and he rubbed his hands in childish glee as he gazed about on his possessions.

"By Jove, what a grand bed, I've a mind to repose on it," exclaimed Rayner, with well-simulated admiration.

"And would your Honour realee do your humble slave the joy of taking repose on thatt bed this veree night? If so, all can be arranged and quicklee too," cried Zynool with enthusiasm.

Mr. Rayner was considerably taken aback by the proposal to sleep in a native house. He had intended to travel a station or two down the line when he had finished his business with the Mussulman, and put up at the bungalow of a bachelor friend. But this eager offer of hospitality was not to be lightly refused, following as it did Zynool's irate mood, and he decided that prudence demanded a gracious compliance with the request.

Zynool, obviously delighted with the success of his suggestion, hurried off, all importance, to make arrangements for the entertainment of the English guest. The news instantly circulated from basement to house-top that the English sahib was to honour the house of his client, though half-an-hour previously his arrival had seemed to incense its master, and make confusion throughout the household.

Mr. Rayner's relations with the Mussulman had been of more than two years' standing. In fact Zynool Sahib had been one of the young barrister's earliest clients, and owing to Rayner's astuteness and daring he had been piloted round at least one ugly corner. If the truth must be told, since then the lawyer had more than once thrust his client into hot water. The pair had taken shares together in various doubtful ventures, at Rayner's instigation, encouraged by high interest, and had been markedly unsuccessful, so that when Zynool informed him that a really good investment was going a-begging in the shape of a piece of land in Puranapore, Rayner lent a ready ear. The land being the property of a Hindu, Zynool explained that he must keep entirely in the background, but was eager, for reasons of his own, to aid the purchase by underhand methods. The result was that the land in question became the property of Alfred Rayner, to pass shortly after into the hands of the Moslem community for double the price which the lawyer gave for it. Thus the mosque which was now such a bone of contention came into being, growing with the rapidity of Jack's beanstalk. Before the Hindus began to realise what a perpetual source of annoyance it was likely to prove, the Mahomedans were shouting their morning and evening prayer-calls from its jerry-built minaret. Zynool rubbed his fat hands with joy at the success of his plot to snub the Hindus, while Rayner's bag of rupees for the price of the site was a godsend to him, and had tided him through many months. But these ill-gotten gains had all melted away during the past season's extravagances. More serious still, the shares, which had seemed so promising, were threatening to pay no further dividends, and calls were looming in the distance. It was this black outlook which had brought the young lawyer to the house of the Mahomedan this afternoon, not indeed to announce to his client the threatened failure of their joint investments—that, he decided, must be kept in the dark—but to see whether he could negotiate a much needed loan on easier terms than those of the Madras soukars. He considered it therefore worth the odiousness of being condemned to spend an evening in the crimson plush drawing-room and the discomfort of a night in the shining brass bedstead, if he could work his host up to that pitch of smiling compliance which would make his request an easier task than it seemed likely to be during the first few minutes of his call.

It was, however, with the cheque for five thousand rupees in his pocket-book, albeit with even a greater loss of self-respect than his dealings with the wily Mussulman had hitherto engendered, that Alfred Rayner stepped out at the low doorway in the weather-stained wall next morning. His host had ordered his gaudy little chariot to be in readiness to drive him to the railway station. It waited now as Zynool stood salaaming on the narrow pavement.

As Mr. Rayner was stepping into the carriage he caught sight of two Englishmen passing along the head of the street. They walked slowly. One was a short, broad-shouldered man, who was endeavouring to hold a white-covered umbrella over the head of his younger and taller companion as they laughed and chatted together.

"There goes Dr. Campbell, mine enemee," said Zynool, with a fierce scowl, "and the osser is that haughtee young man. What a pity he did not see your Honour at the house of your humble slave here," he added, with an air of disappointment.

Rayner had retreated into the depths of the bandy before he ventured to make any reply.

"So that's Dr. Campbell, is it? Not a very formidable looking person! I should say, Zynool, that you're a match for that little man with the hollow chest," he said, with a careless laugh as he settled himself among the cushions, while Zynool's dark face filled the window.

Rayner was longing to ask him the question which he was anxiously asking himself. "Had Mark caught sight of him at the Mussulman's door?" He fervently hoped not, and made an absent, formal salaam as he took leave of his host.

He congratulated himself that the two gentlemen, being on foot, were probably going to the dispensary while their carriage waited near, and that there would be no risk of his meeting them. He was therefore not a little chagrined when the first person he saw standing on the platform was the Assistant-Collector.

Perceiving that an encounter was inevitable, Rayner went forward with a gracious smile.

"Who would have thought of seeing you here, Cheveril!"

"Why, I should rather say, who would have thought of seeing you at our little Puranapore," responded Mark, with that direct look in his eye which had already annoyed Rayner more than once.

"To a dead certainty he saw me at Zynool's door," thought Rayner, who replied lightly, "Business, sir, business! Trying to get that fellow Zynool to pay up what he owes me. He happened to be one of my Puranapore clients before my last furlough. We barristers don't always get paid in advance, I assure you!"

Mark recalled with discomfort Mr. Worsley's remark as to Zynool having been helped by a "shady pleader," but he was glad to dismiss the topic for the present by polite enquiries after Mrs. Rayner.

"Oh, Hester is as fit as a fiddle! Going in for no end of dissipation, and still keeps her English roses," her husband replied briskly. "Come and see for yourself, Cheveril! My wife was a bit disappointed that you declined all our invitations."

"Please tell Mrs. Rayner that I have not been a day absent since I joined, or I should have taken a run to Madras to see my friends there."

"Yes, I believe the Collector is rather of the slave-driving order. Between touring and office work he grinds his subs. pretty hard—so Printer used to tell me."

"That's not a fair representation by any means," said Mark quickly. "Touring and office work are both in the day's routine, and I like both."

"Lucky man," said the lawyer, with more honest conviction than his words generally implied as he glanced half enviously, half admiringly, at the strong, reliant face of the young civilian which told of faithful days and peaceful nights.

"Oh, by the way, Rayner, let me introduce you to our doctor! He is taking a run to Madras to see a case he has in the hospital there. You'll enjoy Campbell's talk. He's an awfully bright fellow," Mark added, thinking that such an acquaintance might be salutary for this shifty looking man. He was glancing round in search of the doctor whom he saw talking to a Hindu official.

"Oh, thanks, no," replied Rayner, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I've got a brief to study in the train. I must deny myself the pleasure of Dr. Campbell's acquaintance."

He was about to hurry off to take his seat when he remembered that he had made no definite arrangement concerning the suggested visit to Clive's Road. "You'll come and put up with us for Christmas, of course, Cheveril? It will be Hester's first Christmas here as well as yours—jolly to spend it together! Shall I tell her of the pleasure in store?"

"I'm certainly counting on seeing Mrs. Rayner then. Do please say so with all kind words from me. But I shall be putting up at the Club. Mr. Worsley has asked me to be his guest there, and to help him to entertain a friend he expects to arrive then."

"Ah, well, one must keep on the right side of one's chief, of course. You're a shrewd man, Cheveril! I'll be able to assure your friend Hester that you're shaping-in beautifully. At all events you'll give us one evening at Clive's Road?"

Mark cordially assented and turned away to make a parting salute to the doctor as the train was moving off.