A MONSTROUS RUMOUR 143 



the old butler informed us that it was on account 

 of a new bridge that they had heard was to be 

 built over the river; and that to strengthen the 

 foundations, several heads were required, to be 

 buried under the bricks. 



We all fell back in our chairs, stupefied. We 

 seemed suddenly to have been transported from this 

 prosaic twentieth century, with its roast shoulders 

 of mutton on our plates, and its Marechal Neil 

 Eoses in front of us, and the native band in the 

 distance playing most expressively Mascagni's 

 Cavalleria Rusticana, back to some far-distant, 

 wild, weird times when such deeds are said to 

 have been possible. 



"And can you," I asked, "possibly believe that 

 such a thing could be allowed in any country of 

 ours? For it is our country, isn't it?" 



"Yes," he admitted, "it is your honour's 

 country, and I do not think it can be true; but 

 this is what every one is saying." Poor old man. 

 I could see he half believed it, but was most 

 anxious not to give offence. 



"But," I said, "there is no bridge about to be 

 built, and we are quite sure there is no Government 



