Macgregor had been advised, by telegraph, to arrest the Syce at

once.

In an hour came a reply that the fellow was nowhere to be found! He had absconded, taking one of Johnny Smithers' nags with him. But the Colonel added that he had arrested the telegraphic operator, the afore-mentioned half-caste, and had him safely guarded.

It was under stress of imprisonment that this intelligent individual disclosed the fact that, when he was about starting from Delhi to join the force at Bijni, he had been offered a bribe by some person unknown-he was an Englishman, the man said-to send a telegram from the camp announcing our total defeat. 'On, ever so much money,' the dolt said, expressively grinning.

'Then-then why on earth didn't you acquaint me with the fact?' he was asked by furious Colonel Macgregor.

'Because I refused the money, excellency,' he replied, evidently quite proud of his unexampled honesty.

'Refused! I should think you did,' roared the Colonel; if I had caught you telegraphing that I had been defeated, by George, sir, I'd have had you court-martialed on the spot.'

As might

Further inquiries failed to elicit from this witness any valuable particulars as to the appearance, &c., of the briber. have been expected, the latter did not drop a hint that he was 'travelling,' so to speak, on behalf of persons interested in a gold mine. And there is really no positive proof, even down to the present day, as to the object with which those mendacious Bhutan hillmen rode into Bijni and told their disturbing tale. But, bearing in mind the rascally character of the Syce, his gold 'earnings' in a region where he could not have come by the money honestly, we looked with suspicion-to say the least of it--on the undoubted fact that one or two notorious market-riggers in Calcutta and London were known to have made thousands in buying transactions connected with the shares of the Great Dhirsuti Gold Mining Company,' just at the moment when the adverse news had been received. The Government also thought the circumstances remarkable enough to order a strict inquiry.

Nothing came of it, however. The speculators soon re-sold their shares, pocketed the profits, and the company has long since gone into hopeless liquidation. Neither Johnny Smithers nor myself ever been gratified by setting eyes on that Syce again, and-truth to say-we don't much expect to.

H. F. LESTER.

F

66

A Story of the Sea.

О, the cruel climbing Sea,

Oh, the breakers on the lee,

And oh for the bitter shining reef!

There's a howling in the wind

That follows fast behind,

And the spray makes each man blind,

As we drive ashore, and no hope of relief.

We are dead men, my mates,

Though many a lass awaits

Her lover watching yonder from the strand.

All's in vain; sit ye down!

Why, a very country clown,

With his hands and face grimed brown,

Would be still at such a time, not unmanned!

There is nothing we can do,

Save say a prayer or two.

We're a wild lot, lads, but perhaps

There is Someone up above

Who will pity us who rove,

Take care of each man's love,

And succour other poor seafaring chaps.