“And he will not,” said Hulton, “for the Rajah is firmer about our holding everything than ever.”
“They’re a shifty, treacherous lot, doctor,” continued Wyatt. “Hulton is quite right, and I’m always looking—metaphorically, of course—at the edge and point of my sword and the primings of my pistols. Some day or other the Ranee will go into a tantrum, and we shall be having a wholesale poisoning, or something worse.”
“Shame!” cried Dick indignantly. “It is an insult to a noble lady. Every one must exonerate her from that piece of treachery.”
“Well done, Pepper-castor!” said Wyatt, laughing. “Hark at the chivalrous young paladin.”
“I should be ashamed to harbour such thoughts,” said Dick indignantly.
“Good boy!” said Wyatt. “But you are no judge. The pet of the Rajah and special favourite of the Ranee is one-sided in his ideas.”
“Don’t shout, Wyatt,” said Hulton. “Walls have ears, they say.”
“All right; I take the hint,” replied Wyatt.
“It would have been better if you had never spoken as you did, Wyatt,” said Dick. “Her highness has always been most kind to you.”
“Yes, my son, she has; but it has always seemed to me like the affection of a tigress. I keep on my guard for the moment when she may bite or scratch.”