"Then what is your scheme? your proposed campaign? Surely you won't advertise in the press, and have every filthy European loafer claiming a beloved nephew, and howling on his neck?"
"Certainly not," replied Mallender, who looked a little nettled; "I consulted a firm of smart lawyers, as our own old stick-in-the-muds were dead against my trip, and they put me on to a private enquiry firm of the name of Jaffer, who live in the City of Hyderabad in the Deccan."
"By George, they must do a great business! The city is full of the bad characters of every nation, people, and tongue. Well, go on."
"And Jaffer and Co. believe they can help me; and say that a good many men disappear in India much in the same way; but, of course, they don't know it is not my Uncle I expect to find—I'm afraid you look upon me as a lunatic?"
"No, no. I see that you feel the claims of kinship as keenly as I do myself; but you are wrong in starting on this crazy quest. If your Uncle is alive—I believe he has gone native. Take my advice," and he looked full into Mallender's grave face, "let sleeping dogs lie."
"Not this sleeping dog!" rejoined the young man, with unexpected energy. "The clever brute who murdered my Uncle draws his money and forges his name!"
"Well, well, Geoffrey, the weather is far too muggy for argument, we must agree to differ. One thing is certain; you cannot go up-country as ignorant as a new-born Europe babe; you must give us a couple of months at least—till we start for the Neilgherries."
"It's most awfully kind of you; and I'd like to stay with you for a few weeks and learn a little experience."
"Then that's settled," said Colonel Tallboys aloud. To himself: "Fan will easily keep this headstrong fellow amused, perhaps entangle him in a matrimonial engagement, and drive this lunacy out of his head."
"Just one word more, my dear boy. For God's sake, don't let a soul know of your real reason for your trip to this country. If it ever got out, you'd be the laughing-stock of all Madras!"