mitted no
ceremony of the purifications, and when all was done Baynes Sahib's
revolver was thrown down from the housetop, together with three rupees
twelve annas; and order was given for its return by post.'

'And what befell the two younger brethren who were not in the service?'
the Havildar-Major asked.

'Doubtless they too are dead, but since they were not in the Regiment
their honour concerns themselves only. So far as _we_ were touched, see
how correctly we came out of the matter! I think the King should be
told; for where could you match such a tale except among us Sikhs? _Sri
wah guru ji ki Khalsa! Sri wah guru ji ki futteh!_' said the
Regimental Chaplain.

'Would three rupees twelve annas pay for the used cartridges?' said the
Havildar-Major.

'Attar Singh knew the just price. All Baynes Sahib's gear was in his
charge. They expended one tin box of fifty cartouches, lacking two which
were returned. As I said--as I say--the arrangement was made not with
heat nor blasphemies as a Mussulman would have made it; not with cries
nor caperings as an idolater would have made it; but conformably to the
ritual and doctrine of the Sikhs. Hear you! _"Though hundreds of
amusements are offered to a child it cannot live without milk. If a man
be divorced from his soul and his soul's desire he certainly will not
stop to play upon the road, but he will make haste with his
pilgrimage_." That is written. I rejoice in my disciples.'

'True! True! Correct! Correct!' said the Subadar-Major. There was a
long, easy silence. One heard a water-wheel creaking somewhere and the
nearer sound of meal being ground in a quern.

'But he--' the Chaplain pointed a scornful chin at the
Havildar-Major--'_he_ has been so long in England that--'

'Let the lad alone,' said his uncle. 'He was but two months there, and
he was chosen for good cause.'

Theoretically, all Sikhs are equal. Practically, there are differences,
as none know better than well-born, land-owning folk, or long-descended
chaplains from Amritsar.

'Hast thou heard anything in England to match my tale?' the Chaplain
sneered.

'I saw more than I could understand, so I have locked up my stories in
my own mouth,' the Havildar-Major replied meekly.

'Stories? What stories? I know all the stories about England,' said the
Chaplain. 'I know that _terains_ run underneath their bazaars there, and
as for their streets stinking with _mota kahars_, only this morning I
was nearly kill