VENGEANCE OF JHAPOO THE GOND 253 



all fast, squatted, on his hams, the figure of a little black 

 G6nd a hill aborigine from Central India. Twisted up 

 into the lank black hair was a ragged piece of once dark- 

 red cloth. Another piece of coarse cotton, grey with dirt, 

 encircled the loins. For the rest he was naked. The arms 

 were supported naturally on the knees ; one hand depended 

 slack-jointed, loose-wristed, after the manner of those 

 restful dusky peoples, the other was half-raised, with out- 

 stretched fingers, as if to compel a sudden attention and 

 silence. And the eyes ! Dark brown, yellow-stained, and 

 bloodshot, altogether dissipated in appearance, they gazed 

 out from that long-dead face with such a marvellous light, 

 such an expectant confident alertness, as betokened, to- 

 gether with the half-parted lips, a sense of absolute con- 

 viction, and an unshakable confidence of exultant success. 

 Never have I seen their like ! 



Old Mulligatawny's attitude had undergone a change, 

 and a soft expression had stolen over his rugged features. 



" My poor old Jhdpoo ! " he muttered. " I shall never 

 see you again ! " and he laid a hand sorrowfully on the bare 

 bronze shoulder of the stuffed man. 



" God rest his soul ! " he added affectionately, gazing at 

 the figure in the chest for several minutes. Then 



"Come, Alastair!" he jerked out. "Stand back!" 

 There was a creaking rush as the lid descended sharply ; 

 a clang ; a last whiff of that Eastern redolence ; and the 

 chest lay there before us, its secret hidden : lay there as 

 it had lain so long. Ancient and interesting no doubt, 

 but a box ; nothing more. 



I glanced round. Abdul Ghani, too, had disappeared. 



"It is a long time, Alastair," said the Colonel, settling 

 himself in his chair, " since I started on my career as an 

 ensign in the good old ' John Company's ' service ; but I 

 can remember it all well and vividly. I was always 



