"Of course you must, Bullen. When a man performs brave deeds, he must be expected to be patted on the back--metaphorically, at any rate--by the ladies. So you have got to go through it all and, as I have sent word round that I shall bring you to my bungalow, you will be able to get it all over at once."
"Well, sir, I suppose I must do it, though I would much rather not. Still, as you say, it were best to get it all over at once."
Six ladies were gathered at the bungalow, as Lisle entered with the colonel. All rose as they entered, and pressed round him, shaking his hand.
"I have come to tell you how pleased we all were," the colonel's wife said, "to hear that you had returned, and how eager we have all been to learn how it has come about. We think it very unkind of you to stay so long in the mess room, when you must have known that we are all on thorns to hear about it. I can assure you that we have missed you terribly, since the regiment returned, and we are awfully glad to have you back again.
"Now, please tell us all about it. We know, of course, how you got Colonel Houghton off, and remained to die; and how proud all the regiment has been of your exploit; so you can start and tell us how it was that you escaped from being cut to mince-meat."
Lisle again went through the story.
"Why did you not return at once, when the chief who captured you said that you were his guest? Was there not some fair young Afridi, who held you in her chains?"
Lisle laughed.
"I can assure you that it was no feminine attractions that kept me. There were some fifteen or twenty girls and, like everyone else, they were very kind to me but, so far as I was able to judge, not one of them was prettier, or I should rather say less ugly, than the rest; although several of them had very good features, and were doubtless considered lovely by the men. Certainly there was none whom an Englishman would look at twice.
"Poor things, most of the work of the village is left to them. They went out to cut grass, fed the cattle, gathered firewood, and ground the corn; and I have no doubt that they are now all occupied with the work of tilling the little patches of fertile ground beyond the village.