us for his associates must abide by the consequences."
The scoundrel was preaching philosophy to the great man! And, dear reader, was he very wrong?
"But our connection has ceased," rejoined Mathur, angrily; "you know it well enough. Why do you seek me at this stormy hour?"
"Because," said the sardar, mournfully, "because this is the only hour when I can dare come out now. The police are after us, as you know."
"Then, why not rid Radhaganj of your presence at once?"
"You were not wont to speak thus to us, Baboo," said the sardar, with a slight touch of his old manner, "when these days had not come over us. Think as you may, I am come to convince you that we have a better memory than you suppose of those whom we serve, or those who serve us."
"What do you mean?" asked Mathur.
"You do not see with me tonight, one who used to follow me as my shadow," answered the sardar with a shade of melancholy.
"Yes—where is that man? Bhiku you call him, I believe?"
"In the hands of the police."
Mathur was startled. "Nothing worse?" asked he, tremblingly.
"Alas! yes!" replied the sardar in a desponding tone. "He has confessed."
"Confessed what?" asked Mathur with furious anxiety.
