“Is wrapped up in the regiment, its past glories, its present fitness, and its future exploits. ‘James,’ as we call him, is as hard as flint, and as tough as boot leather; the orderly room and parade ground are his real home; he looks black on married couples and, if possible, hurls them to the depot. If a subaltern were to adventure on matrimony, all I can say is, that I would be sorry for him—and if I were to turn up with a pretty sister I expect it would be a case of a court-martial!”
“What a narrow-minded, detestable tyrant!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, but very civil in civil life; he plays a good game of billiards, and is prominent in square dances with ‘Burra mems.’ Apart from soldiering he is delightfully tame, and will, so to speak, eat out of your hand.”
“What is a Burra mem?” I inquired.
“You will know soon enough when you get east of Suez.”
“Ah, if I ever do, perhaps you will see that my presentiment will come true, and that we shall be together always.”
“No such luck,” rejoined Ronnie. “Even if I do succeed in transplanting you I am afraid it will be a case of ‘so near and yet so far,’ though, of course, wherever you may be I shall fly to see you. Now I am off to write a scorcher to Uncle Horace.”
“It is awfully good of you, Ronnie, but I am afraid you will find you have only wasted your time and a penny stamp,” I replied as I followed him into “The Roost.” Nevertheless, in spite of my dismal forebodings, that night I lay awake for hours thinking over Ronnie’s plan, and when at last I fell asleep I dreamt of India.
CHAPTER III
A MEETING ON THE MARSHES
Trains from the station nearest to Beke ran at inconceivably inconvenient hours; for instance, a quarter to eight in the morning, and half-past four in the afternoon, the latter wandering into London about midnight. Ronnie, of course, departed by the first, and I took leave of him in the front hall with copious tears (the professor, in a plaid dressing-gown, and with dishevelled locks, peering over the banisters).