"What!" exclaimed Amber in amaze.
"Yes, sir," affirmed Doggott respectfully. "I'm a bit too old to chynge my w'ys; a valet I've been all my life and a valet I'll die, sir. It's too lyte to think of anything else."
"But with this money, Doggott—"
"Beg pardon, sir, but I know; I could live easy like a gentleman if I liked—but I wouldn't be a gentleman, so what's the use of that? I could go 'ome and buy me a public-'ouse; but that wouldn't do neither. I'd not be 'appy; if you'll pardon my s'ying so, I've associated too long with gentlemen and gentlemen's gentlemen to feel at ease, so to speak, with the kind that 'angs round publics. So the w'y I look at it, there's naught for me but go on valeting until I'm too old; after that the money'll be a comfort, I dares'y…. Don't you think so, sir?" "I believe you're right, Doggott; only, your common-sense surprises me. But it makes it easier in a way…." Amber fell thoughtful again.
"'Ow's that, sir—if I m'y ask?"
"This way," said Amber: "Before he died, Mr. Rutton asked me to do him a service. I agreed. He suggested that I take you with me."
"I'm ready, sir," interrupted Doggott eagerly. "There's no gentleman
I'd like to valet for better than yourself."
"But there will be dangers, Doggott—I don't know precisely what. That's the rub: we'll have to travel half-way round the world and face unknown perils. If Mr. Rutton were right about it, we'll be lucky to get away with our lives."
"I'll go, sir; it was 'is wish. I'll go with you to India, Mr. Amber."
"Very well…." Amber spoke abstractedly, reviewing his plans. "But," he enquired suddenly, "I didn't mention India. How did you know——?"