tsar in an "intermediate"
compartment, and he spent the four-hour journey in abusing them as
fluently as his knowledge of the vernaculars allowed.

At Umritsar he was bundled out on the platform into the arms of a
Corporal and two men of the ---- Regiment. Golightly drew himself up
and tried to carry off matters jauntily. He did not feel too jaunty in
handcuffs, with four constables behind him, and the blood from the
cut on his forehead stiffening on his left cheek. The Corporal was not
jocular either. Golightly got as far as--"This is a very absurd mistake,
my men," when the Corporal told him to "stow his lip" and come along.
Golightly did not want to come along. He desired to stop and explain.
He explained very well indeed, until the Corporal cut in with:--"YOU
a orficer! It's the like o' YOU as brings disgrace on the likes of US.
Bloom-in' fine orficer you are! I know your regiment. The Rogue's
March is the quickstep where you come from. You're a black shame to the
Service."

Golightly kept his temper, and began explaining all over again from the
beginning. Then he was marched out of the rain into the refreshment-room
and told not to make a qualified fool of himself. The men were going to
run him up to Fort Govindghar. And "running up" is a performance almost
as undignified as the Frog March.

Golightly was nearly hysterical with rage and the chill and the mistake
and the handcuffs and the headache that the cut on his forehead had
given him. He really laid himself out to express what was in his mind.
When he had quite finished and his throat was feeling dry, one of the
men said:--"I've 'eard a few beggars in the click blind, stiff and crack
on a bit; but I've never 'eard any one to touch this 'ere 'orficer.'"
They were not angry with him. They rather admired him. They had some
beer at the refreshment-room, and offered Golightly some too, because
he had "swore won'erful." They asked him to tell them all about the
adventures of Private John Binkle while he was loose on the countryside;
and that made Golightly wilder than ever. If he had kept his wits about
him he would have kept quiet until an officer came; but he attempted to
run.

Now the butt of a Martini in the small of your back hurts a great deal,
and rotten, rain-soaked khaki tears easily when two men are jerking at
your collar.

Golightly rose from the floor feeling very sick and giddy, with his
shirt ripped open all down his breast and nearly all down hi