“But I should think the confounded natives would steal everything they got their hands on.”

“What would be the use, sir?  They couldn’t dispose of a single gem on the island, and nothing is taken away from here except in the company’s chests.  Besides, my lord, these people are not thieves.  They are absolutely honest.  Smugglers have tried to bribe them, and the smugglers have never lived to tell of it.  They may kill people occasionally, but they are quite honest, believe me.  And, in any event, are they not a part of the great corporation?  They have their share in the working of the mines and in the profits.  Mr. Wyckholme and Mr. Skaggs were honest with them and they have been just as honest in return.”

“Sounds very attractive,” muttered Deppingham sceptically.

“I should think they’d be terribly tempted,” said Lady Agnes.  “They look so wretchedly poor.”

“They are a bit out at the knees,” said her husband, with a great laugh.

“My lady,” said Bowles, “there are but four poor men on the island:  myself and the three Englishmen who operate the bank.  There isn’t a poor man, woman or child among the natives.  This is truly a land of rich men.  The superintendent of the mines is a white man—­a German—­and the three foremen are Boers.  They work on shares just as the natives do and save even more, I think.  The clerical force is entirely native.  There were but ten white men here before you came, including two Greeks.  There are no beggars.  Perhaps you noticed that no one was asking for alms as you came up.”

“’Gad, I should say we did,” exclaimed Deppingham ruefully.  “There wasn’t even a finger held out to us.  But is this a holiday on the island?”

“A holiday, my lord?”

“Yes.  No one seems to be at work.”

“Oh?  I see.  Being part owners the natives have decided that four hours constitutes a day’s work.  They pay themselves accordingly, as it were.  No one works after midday, sir.”

“I say, wouldn’t this be a paradise for the English workingman?” said Deppingham.  “That’s the kind of a day’s labor they’d like.  Do you mean to say that these fellows trudge eight miles to work every morning and back again at noon?”

“Certainly not, sir.  They ride their thoroughbred horses to work and ride them back again.  It’s much better than omnibuses or horse cars, I’d say, sir—­as I remember them.”

“You take my breath away,” said the other, lapsing into a stunned silence.

The road had become so steep and laborious by this time that Bowles was very glad to forego the pleasure of talking.  He fell back, with Mr. Saunders, and ultimately both of them climbed into the already overloaded second cart, adding much to the brown man’s burden.  After regaining his breath to some extent, the obliging Mr. Bowles, now being among what he called the lower classes, surreptitiously removed the tight-fitting red jacket, and proceeded to give the inquisitive lawyer’s clerk all the late news of the island.