They brought back to him, in an instant, the sense of his own personal powerlessness. Gripped on either side by East and West, what could he do? In the afternoon a frock-coat! In the evening the Swâmi with his question! How should he, how could he answer it? How could he condemn Naraini to a living death? How could he give up the past with its good and evil, the future with its evil and its good? Putting himself aside, for the truth's sake, what ought he to do? God! how powerless he was! Mai Kâli's widespread arms seemed to close on him, to choke him.

Till suddenly, a swift vitality came back to him, as a whistle--mellow as a blackbird's--made itself heard behind him. He turned with a smile, with a sense of relief, knowing it was Jân-Ali-shân.

It was. Jân-Ali-shân coming to feed the monkeys. Jân-Ali-shân looking marvellously spruce, alert, self-respecting, seeing that most of his night's rest had been on a brick stair!

'Mornin', sir!' he said, touching his cap decorously; but his hand lingered to hide a smile, as he added with deep concern, 'Ain't lost nothin' more o' your wardrobe to-day, sir, I hope?' Then his recollections got the better of his politeness, and the laugh came openly. 'Beg pardin, sir, I'm sure, but wen I think o' 'ole 'Oneyman and them pants--oh! Lordy Lord!'

The recollection, however, brought more than amusement to poor Chris, who, in truth, felt as if he had lost everything. It brought a sense of grateful comradeship, and there was quite a tremble in his voice, a mist in his eyes, as he said, 'It's all very well to laugh, but you saved my life that day, Ellison; you know you did. I've often thought of it since----'

The memory of kindness received was almost too much for him, he paused, unable to go on.

John Ellison looked the other way as he sat down at a respectful distance, and began to scatter sugar-drops to the monkeys. Then he cleared his throat elaborately.

'Like as you saved me, I expect, sir, from breaking my neck over them blamed stairs last night, sir. One good turn deserves another, as the sayin' is, so we're about quits. Not,' he went on, as if to make a diversion, 'that I was, so to speak, onnecessary drunk, sir, for it was a case o' gettin' tight or killin' a chap as cut me out, fair an' square, with my fancy. So, it bein' fair an' square, I chose the better part an' drowned my sor'rers in the flowin' bowl. It's surprisin',' he continued, with the affable defiance with which he always alluded to his own lapses from grace, 'wot a teeny drop o' whisky will drown 'em; don't it, sir?' As he scattered the sugar-drops he sang the chorus of a drinking-song with great gusto.

They were an odd couple those two, the alien feeding the sacred monkeys, the native watching him silently, and both conscious of a bond of fellowship between them.

'I suppose so,' replied Chris, after such a lapse of time that the remark seemed almost irrelevant, 'but I never tried it. I'm a teetotaller.'