"The Colonel is a little apt to jump to conclusions, when they involve the depravity of other people," suggested Charteris. "It's just possible that he misunderstood his brother."
"Then I wish to goodness they would adopt some means of communication that left no room for misunderstanding. There Antony sent for me, and reviled me as if I had been a criminal of the deepest dye; said that Granthistan would stink in the nostrils of all India if these marriages with native women continued, and threatened to send me back to Bengal unless I gave up all thoughts of it at once."
"Alas, poor Hal! And what did you do?"
"Told him that I had got pretty well accustomed by this time to be reprimanded for everything I did, but when it came to being jawed for things I had no thought of doing, and wouldn't do for all the wealth of Delhi, I was hanged if I would stand it. Then I handed in my resignation on the spot."
"And what did he do?"
"Begged my pardon, like a man and a gentleman and a Christian as he is, dear old fellow! Asked me as a favour to withdraw my resignation, and shook hands."
"Well, you have got on his soft side, and no mistake! But what had riled him? Who were your predecessors in iniquity?"
"Oh, you haven't heard. Remember Horry Arbuthnot, big dashing fellow in the Cavalry? He has been and gone and married the daughter of old Murid-ud-din of Bala."
"You don't say so! How on earth did he manage it?"
"Why, he was sent up to help Tika Singh in pacifying the hill tracts—or rather, to keep him from perpetrating a massacre and calling it pacification—and Murid-ud-din's widow and family had taken refuge there. I don't know how the trick was done, but I daresay Tika Singh had a finger in the pie. He had taken a fancy to Arbuthnot, and may have wished to get a hold over him—at any rate, the bold Horace made definite proposals. Then the thing came to Antony's ears—Tika Singh may have had a hand in that too—and the fat was in the fire. He sent up orders—to Tika Singh, mind you—to send Arbuthnot down under arrest forthwith, and so nip his matrimonial project in the bud. Now it so happened—the course of true love running smooth for once—that Antony's letter reached Tika Singh on the eve of a great festival, and of course he couldn't possibly open it. But he took a squint inside, or the messenger told him the drift of it, or something, and by some most regrettable leakage the contents got to Arbuthnot's ears. The fellow is like you, Bob; he don't let the grass grow under his feet. He married the lady that night by Mohammedan rites under the auspices of her mother, who was highly in favour of the match, and they set off post-haste for Gajnipur. Another remarkable coincidence—only the day before Tika Singh had given Arbuthnot a duplicate of his own signet, which would carry him anywhere in Bala. Antony's orders had been confidential, so that they got to Gajnipur and were married by the Padri there before the truth got out."