A STORY OF CATTLE YA BOWRINGIANA 39 



Hilario — he allowed himself the title and a most aristocratic 

 surname — was returning to his native village, through which 

 Oversluys must pass ; there to remain, as he admitted cheer- 

 fully, until his friends at the capital had suppressed certain 

 proceedings at law. These friends, it appeared, were dames 

 of high position, and the proceedings related to a serious 

 deficiency in his accounts as clerk in the Financial Depart- 

 ment. But it was all great fun. Don Hilario could not 

 think of his appearance in the dock without peals of laughter. 

 No apprehension marred his enjoyment. Those great per- 

 sonages named, of the female sex, would take very good care 

 he was not prosecuted — or they had best look out. In short, 

 we recognise the type of a cynical half-caste Don Juan. 



As they journeyed on together, Don Hilario noticed the 

 orchids, which were simply slung across the mules. He 

 knew, of course, that such weeds are valued in Europe ; 

 every child in those realms is familiar with collectors nowa- 

 days. ' Ah ! ' said he, ' those are poor things compared with 

 the great bushes on the roof of our church.' 



Oversluys was roused at once. Since Roezl made the 

 discovery, fifteen years before, every one had come to know 

 that rarities may be expected on an Indian church. The 

 pious aborigines collect any orchid of exceptional beauty 

 which they notice in the woods and carefully replant it on 

 the sacred building. It was the custom of their heathen 

 forefathers. 



' Are there any white ones among them ^ ' Oversluys 

 asked. An albino form of Cattleya Bowringiana had never 

 been heard of, but he thought it might exist. And if so the 

 roof of an Indian church would be the place to look for such 

 a treasure. 



' As many white as red ! I say, what will you give for 

 a dozen ? ' 



This was a difficult question under any circumstances, 



