“Got any more of these cigars, Harley?” said Chumbley, quietly. “I like ’em.”
“For Heaven’s sake do hold your tongue, Chumbley!” cried the captain. “I never did see a fellow so cool and indifferent.”
“Why not?” replied Chumbley, in his slow drawl. “There’s nothing wrong, only that the Rajah has been to Perowne’s this morning to propose for the fair Helen, and he has come away with a flea in his ear.”
“What?” cried Captain Hilton.
“How did you know?” exclaimed the Resident, turning upon Chumbley, sharply.
“Guessed it—knew it would come from what I saw last night. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that is it,” replied the Resident, frowning slightly.
“The insolence—the consummate ignorant audacity!” cried the captain, his face flushing with anger. “The dog! I’ll horsewhip him till he begs for mercy!”
“You will do nothing of the kind, Hilton,” said the Resident quietly.
“But it is insufferable,” cried Hilton. “An ignorant, brown-skinned savage to pretend to place himself on a level with gentlemen, and then to dare to propose for an English lady’s hand!”