“What!” cried Glyn laughing. “Why, English boys dare do anything. What did Slegge say this morning?”
“Slegge is what you call a blackguard,” cried Singh angrily.
“Well, he isn’t nice certainly,” said Glyn; “but he’d begin at you again directly, and chaff, and say that you ought to ride on the elephant.”
“Well,” said the boy, “and that would be my place if there were a howdah. Of course I shouldn’t ride on the great brute’s neck.”
“Yes, in India; but can’t you recollect that you are still in England?”
“Of course I can,” cried the boy, with flashing eyes; “but I can’t forget that I am a prince.”
“Now, look here,” said Glyn, “what did dad say to you when the Doctor left us with him in the drawing-room? I mean before father went away. Have you forgotten?”
“Of course not. He said, ‘Never mind about being a prince. Be content with the rank of an English gentleman till you go back to your own country.’ And that’s what I am going to do.”
“Well done,” cried Glyn merrily. “Then, now, put this thing away; you don’t want it. But stop a moment. I never had a close look at it before.”
“No; the Colonel told me to keep it locked up and not to go showing it about so as to tempt some budmash to steal it.”