the
discomfort of his victim. Many more than a hundred sabred gentlemen
pressed round to "do themselves the honor," as they expressed it, of
paying Cunningham a compliment. They rode up like knights in armor in
the lists, and saluted like heralds bringing tribute and allegiance.

"Salaam, Chota-Cunnigan!"

"Salaam, sahib!"

"Bohut salaam, bahadur!"

The Generals, the High-Court judges, and Commissioners on the club
veranda sat unhonored, while a boy of twenty-two received obeisance from
men whose respect a king might envy. No Rajput ever lived who was not
sure that his salute was worth more than tribute; he can be polite on
all occasions, and what he thinks mere politeness would be considered
overacting in the West, but his respect and his salute he keeps for his
equals or his betters--and they must be men indeed.

The coterie of high officials sat indignation-bound for ten palpitating
minutes, until the General remembered that it was his escort that was
waiting for him. He had ordered it an hour too soon, for the express
sweet purpose of keeping Cunningham waiting in the sun, but it dawned
now on his apoplectic consciousness that his engagement was most urgent.
He descended in a pompous hurry, mounted and demanded why--by all the
gods of India--the escort was not lined up to receive him. A minute
later, after a loudly administered reprimand that was meant as much for
the swarm of Rajputs as for the indignant Cunningham, he rode off with
the escort clattering behind him.

But on the club veranda, when the Rajputs with Mahommed Gunga had
dispersed, the big wigs sat and talked the matter over very thoroughly.

"It's no use blinking matters," said the senior man present, using a
huge handkerchief to wave the flies away from the polished dome which
rose between two side wisps of gray hair. "They're going to lionize him
while he's here, so we'd better move him on."

"But where?"

"I've got it! There's a letter in from Everton at Abu, saying he needs
a man badly to go to Howrah and act resident there--says he hasn't heard
from the missionaries and isn't satisfied--wants a man without too much
authority to go there and keep an eye on things in general. Howrah's a
hell of a place from all accounts."

"But that 'ud be promotion!"

"Can't be helped. No excuse for reducing him, so far as I've heard. The
trouble is the cub has done too dashed well. We've got to promote him if
we want to be rid of him."

They talked