“Here he comes,” said Georgia, as Stratford entered somewhat hurriedly and cast a hasty glance round the room; “but if you ever venture to ask him to interpret me, Dick, why, beware!”
“I should never think of doing it in cold blood. It might be too much for his brain. What’s the matter, Stratford?” he asked, raising his voice. “You’re not late.”
“The Chief not down yet?” asked Stratford, looking round again and making sure that Sir Dugald and Lady Haigh were the only members of the party who were missing. It was the first time that the two invalids had been allowed to join the rest at dinner, and the servants were obviously unhappy at the delay.
“No,” said Fitz; “the poor old chap is so thin after his illness that Lady Haigh is making Chanda Lal pad his dress-clothes a bit to keep him from looking quite so like a scarecrow.”
“I wish you would have the goodness to confine your jokes to other people, Anstruther, and not go sharpening your wit on the Chief,” said Stratford, irritably. “Look here, all of you—there was something I particularly wanted to say when I got you all together, and this is just the chance. I beg and entreat you all not to allude after to-day—even in private letters or in talking to friends—to the way in which I managed to get the treaty signed.”
“Why, Stratford, there was nothing to be ashamed of!” cried Dick. “It was one of the finest things I ever heard of.”
“You don’t see what I am driving at. At present the Chief has got it into his head that the sudden change in the King’s attitude was entirely due to the discovery by independent means of Fath-ud-Din’s treachery, and the consequent promotion of Jahan Beg. He thinks that I happened on the spot exactly at the right moment and got the treaty signed without a bit of trouble, and I want him to go on thinking so.”
“But do you mean to say you don’t want him to know that it was all through you that the old fraud was unmasked, and that you went to the Palace for the sake of rescuing Miss Keeling, and at the risk of your life? What on earth is your reason?”
“I should have thought you would have seen it at once. I want the Chief to get the full credit for this piece of work.”
“But this is nonsense!” cried Dick. “Why should the Chief get the credit for what you did? He is the last man in the world to wish to wear borrowed plumes.”