, are you?" said Shafto, taking a seat and feeling at a complete
loss what he was to say and how he was to handle this novel situation.

"I thought," resumed the _pongye_, "that I'd like to offer ye an
explanation of the way I happened to be in that 'ere accident."

"Yes," assented his host; "I suppose this," pointing to his yellow gown
with his stick, "is a fancy dress, for, of course, you are not a real
_pongye_?"

"Troth, I am so," he rejoined with indignant emphasis; "I've been
properly initiated--I know Burmese and the Pali language, and can
intone a chant with anyone."

"All the same, you're an Irishman and your speech bewrayeth you. I
wonder you are not kicked out."

"Is it kick me out? No fear! For besides being well respected and
well liked, I'm a magician."

"Oh, come, that's all rot!" exclaimed Shafto impatiently.

"'Tis not," he rejoined in a vigorously defensive tone; "and 'tis
little ye know. This is a queer country; the people are terribly
superstitious and weak in themselves, on account of _nats_ and bad
spirits."

"Oh, that I can believe," replied Shafto; "your pals in the _gharry_
could tell you something about bad spirits."

"Wait now and I'll explain," said the _pongye_, with an intimate
gesture of his great bony hand.

"Sometimes I've a sort of ache to be mixing up with European
soldiers--even if it's only for a couple of hours." After a pause he
added in a thoughtful tone, "For ye see I was wance a soldier meself."

"What!"

"It's the pure truth I'm tellin' ye--a corporal, with two good-conduct
stripes; the other week Paddy Nolan had drink taken, and nothin' would
please him but that he must drive, so he turned off the _garriwan_ and
made a cruel bad hand of it--as you saw for yourself! They were a
couple of raw new ponies, come down out of last drove, and unused to
trams and motors, and frightened dancing mad; only for you heading them
off, we were all as dead as mutton."

"But how did you get into the Burmese priesthood?" inquired Shafto with
abrupt irrelevance.

"It was like this, sorr, I'm country-born; me father was a sergeant in
the Irish Rifles, me mother was a half-caste--an Anglo-Indian from
Ceylon--so I'm half Irish, quarter Cingalese. I was left an orphan
when I was seven years old and educated at the Lawrence Asylum. I
always had a wonderful twist for languages; it came as easy as
breathing to me to talk Tamil or Telugu. Well, when I was close on
eighteen I e