blocked by the snow. His report was simply
amazin'. Von Lennaert tore his hair over it at first, and then he
gasped, 'Who the dooce is this unknown Warren Hastings? He must be
slain. He must be slain officially! The Viceroy'll never stand it. It's
unheard of. He must be slain by his Excellency in person. Order him up
here and pitch in a stinger.' Well, I sent him no end of an official
stinger, and I pitched in an unofficial telegram at the same time."

"You!" This with amazement from the Infant, for Abanazar resembled
nothing so much as a fluffy Persian cat.

"Yes--me," said Abanazar. "'Twasn't much, but after what you've said,
Dicky, it was rather a coincidence, because I wired:

"'Aladdin now has got his wife,
Your Emperor is appeased.
I think you'd better come to life:
We hope you've all been pleased.'

"Funny how that old song came up in my head. That was fairly
non-committal and encouragin'. The only flaw was that his Emperor
wasn't appeased by very long chalks. Stalky extricated himself from his
mountain fastnesses and leafed up to Simla at his leisure, to be offered
up on the horns of the altar."

"But," I began, "surely the Commander-in-Chief is the proper--"

"His Excellency had an idea that if he blew up one single junior
captain--same as King used to blow us up--he was holdin' the reins
of empire, and, of course, as long as he had that idea, Von Lennaert
encouraged him. I'm not sure Von Lennaert didn't put that notion into
his head."

"They've changed the breed, then, since my time," I said.

"P'r'aps. Stalky was sent up for his wiggin' like a bad little boy. I've
reason to believe that His Excellency's hair stood on end. He walked
into Stalky for one hour--Stalky at attention in the middle of the
floor, and (so he vowed) Von Lennaert pretending to soothe down His
Excellency's topknot in dumb show in the background. Stalky didn't dare
to look up, or he'd have laughed."

"Now, wherefore was Stalky not broken publicly?" said the Infant, with a
large and luminous leer.

"Ah, wherefore?" said Abanazar. "To give him a chance to retrieve his
blasted career, and not to break his father's heart. Stalky hadn't a
father, but that didn't matter. He behaved like a--like the Sanawar
Orphan Asylum, and His Excellency graciously spared him. Then he came
round to my office and sat opposite me for ten minutes, puffing out his
nostrils. Then he said, 'Pussy, if I thought that basket-hanger--'"

"Hah!