“Not so very old, sahib. I was a young man when Cunnigan-bahadur raised a regiment and licked the half of Rajputana into shape with it. Not too old, sahib, to wish there were another Cunnigan to ride with!”
“Well, Mahommed Gunga, you're closer to your wish than you suppose! Young Cunningham's gazetted, and probably just about starting on his way out here via the Cape of Good Hope. He should be here in three or four months at the outside.”
“You mean that, sahib?”
“Wish I didn't! The puppy will arrive here with altogether swollen notions of his own importance and what is due his father's son. He's been captain of his college at home, and that won't lessen his sense of self-esteem either. I can foresee trouble with that boy!”
“Sahib, there is a service I could render!”
The Rajput spoke with a strangely constrained voice all of a sudden, but the Commissioner did not notice it; he was too busy pulling on a wool-lined jacket to ward off the evening chill.
“Well, risaldar—what then?”
“I think that I could teach the son of Cunnigan-bahadur to be worth his salt.”
“If you'll teach him to be properly respectful to his betters I'll be grateful to you, Mahommed Gunga.”
“Then, sahib, I shall have certain license allowed me in the matter?”