“Stitch in time saves nine,” said the Major emphatically. “Why not nip the thing in the bud?”
“Why not?” continued Archie, who, now he was started, gained confidence every minute and did not seem disposed to stop.
“Why not what?” said the Major.
“Have a grand parade, sir. There’s the Queen’s Birthday next week.”
“Yes,” said Sir Charles.
“Eh?” grunted the Major. “Grand parade? You mean make a bit of a show? Full review order, and the band?”
“I’d finish off with that, sir,” said Archie; “but I’d have every man out, and get up a thoroughly good sham-fight, burn plenty of powder, make everything as real as could be, and after plenty of firing and evolution, form in line and deliver a regular good charge.”
“Yes,” said the Major, “there’s something in that. But what’s the good of doing it with only the people of the campong to look on?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do it shabbily, sir. I think, in honour of Her Majesty’s birthday, Sir Charles ought to give a big banquet here, and invite both Rajah Suleiman and Rajah Hamet to come in force with their followers, and after the sham-fight have it all arranged that their people shall be well feasted.”
“But the expense—the expense, sir!” cried Sir Charles.