"And you're going back to India?" said Obed.
"Yes."
"I should think you'd rather stay home--among your friends."
"Well--I don't know," said Lord Chetwynde, with assumed indifference. "The fact is, life in India unfits one for life in England. We get new tastes and acquire new habits. I never yet saw a returned Indian who could be content. For my part, I'm too young yet to go in for being a returned Indian; and so after I finished my business I applied for a reappointment."
"There's a good deal in what you say," remarked Obed. "Your British island is contracted. A man who has lived in a country like India feels this. We Americans, accustomed as we are to the unlimited atmosphere of a boundless continent, always feel depressed in a country like England. There is in your country, Sir, a physical and also a moral constraint which, to a free, republican, continental American, is suffocating. And hence my dislike to the mother country."
They walked on together chatting about numerous things. Obed referred once more to India.
"It's queer," said he; "your British Empire is so tremendous that it seems to cover the earth. After I left the States it seemed to me that I couldn't go any where without seeing the British flag. There was Australia, a continent in itself; and Hong Kong; and India, another continent; and Aden, and Malta. You have a small country too, not much larger than New York State."
"Well," said Lord Chetwynde, with a smile, "we once owned a great deal more, you know. We had colonies that were worth all the rest. Unfortunately those colonies took it into their heads to set up for themselves, and started that independent nation of the Stars and Stripes that you belong to. If it hadn't been for that abominable Stamp Act, and other acts equally abominable, you and I might now be under the same flag, belonging to an empire which might set the whole united world at defiance. It's a pity it was not so. The only hope now left is that our countries may always be good friends, as they are now, as you and I are--as we always are, whenever we meet under such circumstances as those which occurred when you and I became acquainted. 'Blood is thicker than water,' said old Tatnall, when he sent his Yankee sailors to help Admiral Hope; and the same sentiment is still in the mind of every true Englishman whenever he sees an American of the right sort."
"Them's my sentiments," said Obed, heartily. "And although I don't generally hanker after Britishers, yet I have a kind of respect for the old country, in spite of its narrowness and contraction, and all the more when I see that it can turn out men like you."
After a short stroll the two seated themselves in a quiet sequestered place, and had a long conversation. Obed informed him of the many events which had occurred since their last meeting. The news about Black Bill was received by Lord Chetwynde with deep surprise, and he had a strong hope that this might lead to the capture of Gualtier. Little did he suspect the close connection which he had had with the principals in this crime.