nk linin' wrapped round me most graceful, the music
thunderin' like kettledrums, an' a could draft blowin' round my bare
legs. By this hand that did ut, I was Krishna tootlin' on the
flute--the god that the rig'mental chaplain talks about. A sweet sight
I must ha' looked. I knew my eyes were big, and my face was wax-white,
an' at the worst I must ha' looked like a ghost. But they took me for
the livin' god. The music stopped, and the women were dead dumb, an' I
crooked my legs like a shepherd on a china basin, an' I did the
ghost-waggle with my feet as I had done ut at the rig'mental theatre
many times, an' I slid acrost the width av that temple in front av the
she-god tootlin' on the beer bottle.'

'Wot did you toot?' demanded Ortheris the practical.

[Illustration: 'I was Krishna tootlin' on the flute.'--P. 176.]

'Me? Oh!' Mulvaney sprang up, suiting the action to the word, and
sliding gravely in front of us, a dilapidated but imposing deity in
the half light. 'I sang--

'Only say
You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan.
Don't say nay,
Charmin' Judy Callaghan.

I didn't know me own voice when I sang. An' oh! 'twas pitiful to see
the women. The darlin's were down on their faces. Whin I passed the
last wan I cud see her poor little fingers workin' one in another as
if she wanted to touch my feet. So I dhrew the tail av this pink
overcoat over her head for the greater honour, an' I slid into the
dhark on the other side av the temple, and fetched up in the arms av a
big fat priest. All I wanted was to get away clear. So I tuk him by
his greasy throat an' shut the speech out av him. "Out!" sez I. "Which
way, ye fat heathen?"--"Oh!" sez he. "Man," sez I. "White man, soldier
man, common soldier man. Where in the name av confusion is the back
door?" The women in the temple were still on their faces, an' a young
priest was holdin' out his arms above their heads.

'"This way," sez my fat friend, duckin' behind a big bull-god an'
divin' into a passage. Thin I remimbered that I must ha' made the
miraculous reputation av that temple for the next fifty years. "Not
so fast," I sez, an' I held out both my hands wid a wink. That ould
thief smiled like a father. I tuk him by the back av the neck in case
he should be wishful to put a knife into me unbeknowst, an' I ran him
up an' down the passage twice to collect his sensibilities! "Be
quiet," sez he, in English. "Now you talk sense," I sez. "Fwhat'll you
give me for the