Violet shuddered.

“Oh, do you think he has ever eaten any human being?” she asked, gazing with loathing at the huge reptile.

“Judging from the way he stalked you I should think he has,” answered Raymond.  “Hullo! here comes one of the camel-drivers with some of the villagers.  They’ll be able to tell us about him.”

On the rim of the basin appeared a group of natives moving in their direction.  Suddenly they caught sight of the crocodile, stopped and pointed to it and began to talk excitedly.  One of the local peasants ran back shouting.  The rest hurried down for a closer view of the reptile.  A chorus of wonder rose from them as they stood round it.  The Mahommedan camel-driver exclaimed in Hindustani: 

“Ahre, bhai!  Kiya janwar!  Pukka shaitan! (Ah, brother!  What an animal!  A veritable devil!)”

As the villagers spoke only the dialect of the State, Raymond used this man as interpreter and questioned them about the crocodile.  They asserted that it had inhabited the tank for many years—­hundreds, said one man.  It had, to their certain knowledge, killed several women incautiously bathing or drawing water from the tank.  As women are not valued highly by the poorer Hindus this did not make the mugger very unpopular.  But early in that very year it had committed the awful crime of dragging under water and devouring a Brahmini bull, an animal devoted to the Gods and held sacrosanct.

By this time the crocodile had breathed its last.  Raymond measured it roughly and found it to be over twelve feet in length.  The peasants turned the great body on its back.  Wargrave saw that the skin underneath was too thick to be made into leather, so he bade them cut the belly open.  The stomach contained many shells of freshwater crabs and crayfish, as well as a surprising amount of large pebbles, either taken for digestive purposes or swallowed when the fish were being scooped up off the bottom.  But further search resulted in the finding of several heavy brass or copper anklets and armlets, such as are worn by Indian women.  Some had evidently been a long time in the reptile’s interior.

When the camels had come and the party was preparing to mount and start back home, a crowd of villagers, led by their old priest, bore down upon them.  Learning that Frank was the slayer of the sacrilegious crocodile the holy man hung a garland of marigolds round his neck and through the interpreter offered him the thanks of gods and men for his good deed.  And to a chorus of blessings and compliments he rode away with his companions.

So ended the incident—­apparently.  But consequences undreamed of by any of the actors in it flowed from it.  For imperceptibly it brought a change into the relations between Mrs. Norton and Wargrave and eventually altered them completely.  At first it merely seemed to strengthen their friendship and increase the feeling of intimacy.  To Violet—­they were Violet and Frank to each other now—­the saving of her life constituted a bond that could never be severed.  He had preserved her from a horrible death and she owed Wargrave more than gratitude.