She dreamed for the twentieth time of the god in the golden dust, and
woke refreshed to feed loathsome black children, scores of them,
wastrels picked up by the wayside, their bones almost breaking their
skin, terrible and covered with sores.

Scott was not allowed to leave his cart work, but his letter was duly
forwarded to the Government, and he had the consolation, not rare in
India, of knowing that another man was reaping where he had sown.
That also was discipline profitable to the soul.

'He's much too good to waste on canals,' said Jimmy. 'Any one can
oversee coolies. You needn't be angry, William: he can--but I need my
pearl among bullock-drivers, and I've transferred him to the Khanda
district, where he'll have it all to do over again. He should be
marching now.'

'He's _not_ a coolie,' said William furiously. 'He ought to be doing
his regulation work.'

'He's the best man in his service, and that's saying a good deal; but
if you _must_ use razors to cut grindstones, why, I prefer the best
cutlery.'

'Isn't it almost time we saw him again?' said Mrs. Jim. 'I'm sure the
poor boy hasn't had a respectable meal for a month. He probably sits
on a cart and eats sardines with his fingers.'

'All in good time, dear. Duty before decency--wasn't it Mr. Chucks
said that?'