is the superior bearer that young
Chinn brought with him fleeing across country with his bundle?"
He stepped into the verandah, and shouted after the man--a typical
new-joined subaltern's servant who speaks English and cheats in
proportion.

"What is it?" he called.

"Plenty bad man here. I going, sar," was the reply. "Have taken Sahib's
keys, and say will shoot."

"Doocid lucid--doocid convincin'. How those up-country thieves can leg
it! He has been badly frightened by some one." The Major strolled to his
quarters to dress for mess.

Young Chinn, walking like a man in a dream, had fetched a compass
round the entire cantonment before going to his own tiny cottage. The
captain's quarters, in which he had been born, delayed him for a little;
then he looked at the well on the parade-ground, where he had sat of
evenings with his nurse, and at the ten-by-fourteen church, where the
officers went to service if a chaplain of any official creed happened to
come along. It seemed very small as compared with the gigantic buildings
he used to stare up at, but it was the same place.

From time to time he passed a knot of silent soldiers, who saluted.
They might have been the very men who had carried him on their backs
when he was in his first knickerbockers. A faint light burned in his
room, and, as he entered, hands clasped his feet, and a voice murmured
from the floor.

"Who is it?" said young Chinn, not knowing he spoke in the Bhil tongue.

"I bore you in my arms, Sahib, when I was a strong man and you were
a small one--crying, crying, crying! I am your servant, as I was your
father's before you. We are all your servants."

Young Chinn could not trust himself to reply, and the voice went on:

"I have taken your keys from that fat foreigner, and sent him away; and
the studs are in the shirt for mess. Who should know, if I do not know?
And so the baby has become a man, and forgets his nurse; but my nephew
shall make a good servant, or I will beat him twice a day."

Then there rose up, with a rattle, as straight as a Bhil arrow, a little
white-haired wizened ape of a man, with medals and orders on his tunic,
stammering, saluting, and trembling. Behind him a young and wiry Bhil,
in uniform, was taking the trees out of Chinn's mess-boots.

Chinn's eyes were full of tears. The old man held out his keys.

"Foreigners are bad people. He will never come back again. We are all
servants of your father's son. Has the Sahib forgo