"In the native quarter," said Dick, playing with his fork.
Something in his tone caught Paul's attention again. He looked more closely at the visitor. "Were you doing missionary work?" he asked.
Childers shook his head. "No," he said; "indeed, on the contrary, I went to learn."
"The language?" persisted Paul, still at sea.
"I learnt that at Cambridge years ago," said Childers.
"You don't say so. Did you take Oriental Languages, or whatever they call it?"
"No. The fact is, Mr. Kestern, I learnt it from Indian students, and I was out in India studying Indian religious mysticism."
"Oh!" said Paul, and glanced swiftly again at Leather. He understood at last. Little as he knew of the subject (though he had heard Father Vassall speak of it), he knew that a man who studied Indian mysticism, and the Rev. Herbert Leather, C.M.S., Benares, would not have much in common. Leather could play most games and preach a "downright" Gospel sermon, but the Apostles were the only mystics in whom he believed and he would not have called them by that title. Even less than Dick was he metaphysical, and even more than Paul at his worst was he dogmatic.
He spoke now. "As a matter of fact we are having a bit of an argument, Kestern," he said. "Mr. Childers seems to believe in Hinduism."
"I never said that, Mr. Leather," put in Childers.