“Hear that, Archie?” said the Major, chuckling. “He’s coming round.”
“Well, yes, on further thought,” said the Resident, “if such a fête were made of the matter it would be a great attraction, and must impress not only the followers of the two Rajahs, but the inhabitants of every campong within reach. But I am afraid—”
“I’m not,” said the Major.
“I was going to say, of the expense.”
“Oh, hang the expense! as I said before,” cried the Major. “Let’s do it well, and think about the cost later on. I say that these people, bloodthirsty as they are, quarrelsome, and generally spoiling for a fight, are such children at heart that they would be delighted, and believe more than ever in the followers of her they call the Great White Queen. Now, Sir Charles, are you with me?”
“Yes, Major,” said the Resident, “I must confess that I am.”
“Settled,” said the Major, drawing himself up. “The Queen’s Birthday, then. We haven’t much time to spare.—What’s that?” he continued, as Sir Charles left the Major’s quarters, where the above discussion had taken place. “What’s that you say—it might be dangerous to bring the followers of those two fellows together, seeing what enemies they are? I never thought of that, Maine.”
“You see, they began using their krises, sir, that night of the mess dinner.”
“Humph! Yes. Then they were hanging about with nothing to do but growl at each other. Oh, I don’t think we need study that, my lad. You see, their attention will be taken up—plenty to see, plenty to eat and drink—and we shall have all our lads under arms and prepared for any little émeute. Oh no, my lad, we won’t seek clouds where there are none. All the same, we’ll be prepared.”