Lying is lying, whatever explanations and excuses may be made respecting it, and I am afraid it must be admitted that Tinling, if he began by a mere harmless device for giving a new turn to the game, ended by telling some very unmistakable lies.
Now he found himself in a most delicate position: what if an attack by Red Indians should really be quite possible? Mr. Lambert Jolliffe had certainly not seemed to see anything incredible in the former visit, and, though Clarence had not a very high opinion of his abilities, he was grown up, and was not likely to be misinformed on such a point as that—at all events, he was the best person to consult just then. As he expected, he found him under the big ilex on his back, with his after-breakfast pipe, no longer alight, between his lips.
'Mr. Jolliffe; I say, Mr. Jolliffe,' began Clarence.
Lambert Jolliffe sat up, and fixed his glass in one drowsy eye. 'Hullo, Sir Garnet—I beg your pardon, Lord Wolseley, I mean. You ought to hear what they're saying at the War Office, I can tell you!'
Praise is sweet, even when we do not deserve it, and Clarence felt a thrill of satisfaction at this somewhat vague tribute.
'I wanted to ask you,' he said, 'should you say that Red Indians were—well, common in England?'
'You have asked me a straightforward question, and I'll give you a straightforward answer,' was the reply. 'Till quite lately I should say they were absolutely unknown in this country.'
Clarence's face brightened; he felt quite fond of Uncle Lambert, and began to think him a particularly well-informed and entertaining person.
'Yes,' continued Uncle Lambert, thoughtfully, 'I must confess I thought it a little unlikely at first that you should have been annoyed by Red Indians; but, of course, when I remembered the Earl's Court Show, I saw at once that it was quite possible.' Clarence felt a cold qualm. He had, as we already know, seen Buffalo Bill's wonderful show, which, indeed, was responsible for much of his recent military enthusiasm. But till that moment, curiously enough, it had not occurred to him to connect the mysterious Wah Na Sa Pash Boo with the denizens of the Wild West whom he had seen careering about the immense arena at Earl's Court.
'Do you mean,' he said, with an effort, 'that you thought some of Buffalo Bill's Indians had managed to escape?'