" he says, as soon as he has
become articulate. "That's the man I want, behind the 'Daily
Sunderbund.' If it wasn't for this dam toe, I'd go across and ask him.
No, don't you go. Send one of these dam jumpin' frogs--idlin' about!"
He requisitions a passing waiter, gripping him by the arm to give
him instructions. "Just--you--touch the General's arm, and ketch his
attention. Say Major Roper." And he liquidates his obligations to
a great deal of asthmatic cough, while the jumping frog does his
bidding.

The General (who is now Lord Pellew of Cutch, by-the-bye) came with
an amiable smile from behind the journal, and ended a succession
of good-evening nods to newcomers by casting an anchor opposite
the Major. The latter, having by now taken the surest steps towards
bringing the whole room into his confidence, stated the case he sought
confirmation for.

Oh yes, certainly; the General was in Umballa in '80; remembered the
young lady quite well, and the row between Penderfield and his wife
about her. As for Penderfield, everybody remembered _him_! _De mortuis
nil_, etc.--of course, of course. For all that, he was one of the
damnedest scoundrels that ever deserved to be turned out of the
service. Ought to have been cashiered long ago. Good job he's gone to
the devil! Yes, he was quite sure he was remembering the right girl.
No, no, he wasn't thinking of Daisy Neversedge--no, nor of little Miss
Wrennick: same sort of story, but he wasn't thinking of them at all.
Only the name wasn't either Rayner or Verschoyle. General Pellew stood
thoughtfully feeling about in a memory at fault, and looking at an
unlighted cigar he rolled in his fingers, as though it might help if
caressed. Then he had a flash of illumination. "Rosalind Graythorpe,"
he said.

There we had it, sure enough! The Major see-sawed in the air with
a finger of sudden corroboration. "Rosalind Graythorpe," he repeated
triumphantly, and then again, "Ros-a-lind Graythorpe," dwelling on the
syllables, and driving the name home, as it were, to the apprehension
of all within hearing. It was so necessary to a complete confidence
that every one should know whom he was holding his tongue about. Where
would be the merit of discretion else? But the enjoyment of details
should be _sotto voce_. The General dropped his voice to a good
sample, suggesting a like course to the more demonstrative secrecy
of the Major.

"I remember the whole story quite well," said he. "The girl wa