It is not necessary to remind the reader that all this lacquer of good breeding covered a very coarse and vulgar nature. In manner he was charming,—his approach, his address, his conversation were all perfect; he knew well when to be silent,—when to concur by a smile with what he was not expected to confirm by a word,—when to seem suddenly confronted with a new conviction, and how to yield assent as though coerced to what he would rather have resisted. In a word, he was perfect in all the training of those superb poodles who fetch and carry for their masters, that they may have the recompense of snarling at all the rest of mankind.
As there are heaven-born doctors, lawyers, divines, and engineers, so are there men specially created for the antechamber, and Sewell was one of them.
The old Judge had given orders for a liberal breakfast. He deemed a soldier's appetite would be a hearty one, and he meant to treat him hospitably. The table was therefore very generously spread, and Sewell looked approvingly at the fare, and ventured on a few words of compliment on the ample preparations before him.
“It is the only real breakfast-table I have seen since I left Calcutta,” said he, smiling graciously.
“You do me honor, sir,” replied the old man, who was not quite sure whether or not he felt pleased to be complimented on a mere domestic incident.
Sewell saw the hitch at once, and resumed: “I remember an observation Lord Commorton made me when I joined his staff in India. I happened to make some remark on a breakfast set out pretty much like this, and he said, 'Bear in mind, Captain Sewell, that when a man who holds a high function sits down to a well-served breakfast, it means that he has already completed the really important work of the day. The full head means the empty stomach.'”
“His Excellency was right, sir; had he always been inspired with sentiments of equal wisdom, we should never have been involved in that unhappy Cantankankarabad war.”
“It was a very disastrous affair, indeed,” sighed Sewell; “I was through the whole of it.”
“When I first heard of the project,” continued the Judge, “I remarked to a friend who was with me,—one of the leading men at the Bar,—'This campaign will tarnish our arms, and imperil our hold on India. The hill-tribes are eminently warlike, and however specious in their promises to us, their fidelity to their chiefs has never been shaken.'”
“If your judgment had been listened to, it would have saved us a heavy reverse, and saved me a very painful wound; both bones were fractured here,” said Sewell, showing his wrist.