“The Sahib Wyatt’s hookah,” he said, and the man went off without a sound.
“What a wonderful gift the doctor has!” said Wyatt, smiling. “That is exactly what I wanted to make me as amiable as ever. Dick, my son, forgive me if I have been too hard.”
“Oh, I know you by heart,” said Dick: “but it hurts me to hear the Ranee abused.”
“Then we will not hurt you, my son,” said Wyatt. “Ah, here is the hubble-bubble; now I shall be at rest.”
The next minute he was leaning back placidly smoking invisible vapour through the long, snake-like tube, and as the attendant disappeared, he watched the doctor putting back the rings he had handed round for inspection.
“No, Doctor,” he said; “you must not be coaxed away. I agree with Hulton; the Rajah’s offer is tempting, and the Ranee is grateful, but we are aliens, and the people here are not to be trusted. The time might come when things went wrong, and I for one should feel troubled to think that we had left here a good, true man surrounded by enemies.”
“But he surrounds himself with friends,” said Dick.
“Tries to,” said Hulton gravely; “but to hundreds nothing can balance the fact that he is an Englishman and an infidel. Then, too, he is a doctor, whose ideas are in direct opposition to those of the native medical men.”
“Let me bring the debate to a close,” said the doctor quietly. “I am very comfortable here, and thoroughly enjoy my present life, and so long as matters go smoothly I should be sorry to give it up.”
“Sybarite!” said Wyatt.