“That’ll do,” said Mr Crayne curtly, interrupting the hurried monologue. “I didn’t ask you for a lecture. Can you tell me the exact membership of the order at the present time, or anything else that is practical?”
“I—I’m afraid not, sir. There are no means of ascertaining such facts as that, I fear. But I believe an important book has been published in Germany dealing with the sect, if you would permit me to order it for you——”
“No, I won’t. What good is a German book to any civilised man? You are always ready to stock my library with books you want to read. You can go back to your grinding, sir.”
The secretary departed with alacrity, and Mr Crayne turned to his nephew—
“We see that the sect has always been willing to accept European recruits, at any rate, which looks promising. The murder part of the business has been dropped, apparently, or I should scarcely be sitting here, after Keeling’s letters to me. Well, I shall pay a flying visit to Alibad, and thresh the matter out. Must give the man a chance to justify himself, though he’ll be clever to do it. If he offers to pay back the money, I may have to let him retire and lose himself. If not, there must be an inquiry. You’ll be prepared to give evidence, of course?”
“It’s an awkward thing to witness against one’s commanding officer, sir.”
“What, trying to back out of it, eh? What d’ye mean, sir? I’ll have your blood if you fail me.”
“I could not remain in the regiment after it, sir.”
“Oho, you want to get something out of me, eh? Well, other regiments won’t exactly compete for your services, either. It must be something extra-regimental, then. What about the languages? I hear you used to knock about among the niggers when you were down at the coast. Do any good with it? Like to go to Gamara?”
“In what capacity, sir?”