mes's witticisms, of course, and in vile taste,
as usual."

"His taste is his own affair; what I mind are his abominable practical
jokes. Do you know that he said this same thing to the Colonel, but
put it as though I had approved, or even proposed, the arrangement?"

"The Colonel is a little apt to jump to conclusions, when they involve
the depravity of other people," suggested Charteris. "It's just
possible that he misunderstood his brother."

"Then I wish to goodness they would adopt some means of communication
that left no room for misunderstanding. There Antony sent for me, and
reviled me as if I had been a criminal of the deepest dye; said that
Granthistan would stink in the nostrils of all India if these marriages
with native women continued, and threatened to send me back to Bengal
unless I gave up all thoughts of it at once."

"Alas, poor Hal! And what did you do?"

"Told him that I had got pretty well accustomed by this time to be
reprimanded for everything I did, but when it came to being jawed for
things I had no thought of doing, and wouldn't do for all the wealth of
Delhi, I was hanged if I would stand it. Then I handed in my
resignation on the spot."

"And what did he do?"

"Begged my pardon, like a man and a gentleman and a Christian as he is,
dear old fellow! Asked me as a favour to withdraw my resignation, and
shook hands."

"Well, you have got on his soft side, and no mistake! But what had
riled him? Who were your predecessors in iniquity?"

"Oh, you haven't heard. Remember Horry Arbuthnot, big dashing fellow
in the Cavalry? He has been and gone and married the daughter of old
Murid-ud-din of Bala."

"You don't say so! How on earth did he manage it?"

"Why, he was sent up to help Tika Singh in pacifying the hill
tracts--or rather, to keep him from perpetrating a massacre and calling
it pacification--and Murid-ud-din's widow and family had taken refuge
there. I don't know how the trick was done, but I daresay Tika Singh
had a finger in the pie. He had taken a fancy to Arbuthnot, and may
have wished to get a hold over him--at any rate, the bold Horace made
definite proposals. Then the thing came to Antony's ears--Tika Singh
may have had a hand in that too--and the fat was in the fire. He sent
up orders--to Tika Singh, mind you--to send Arbuthnot down under arrest
forthwith, and so nip his matrimonial project in the bud. Now it so
happened--the course of true love running sm