‘Of course,’ said William; and she grew pinker and pinker and statelier and more stately, as she strode back to her tent, fanning herself vigorously with the saucer.
There were shrill lamentations through the camp when the elder children saw their nurse move off without them. Faiz Ullah unbent so far as to jest with the policemen, and Scott turned purple with shame because Hawkins, already in the saddle, roared.
A child escaped from the care of Mrs. Jim, and, running like a rabbit, clung to Scott’s boot, William pursuing with long, easy strides.
‘I will not go—I will not go!’ shrieked the child, twining his feet round Scott’s ankle. ’They will kill me here. I do not know these people.’
‘I say,’ said Scott, in broken Tamil, ’I say, she will do you no harm. Go with her and be well fed.’
‘Come!’ said William, panting, with a wrathful glance at Scott, who stood helpless and, as it were, hamstrung.
‘Go back,’ said Scott quickly to William. ’I’ll send the little chap over in a minute.’
The tone of authority had its effect, but in a way Scott did not exactly intend. The boy loosened his grasp, and said with gravity, ‘I did not know the woman was thine. I will go.’ Then he cried to his companions, a mob of three-, four-, and five-year-olds waiting on the success of his venture ere they stampeded: ’Go back and eat. It is our man’s woman. She will obey his orders.’
Jim collapsed where he sat; Faiz Ullah and the two policemen grinned; and Scott’s orders to the cartmen flew like hail.
’That is the custom of the Sahibs when truth is told in their presence,’ said Faiz Ullah. ’The time comes that I must seek new service. Young wives, especially such as speak our language and have knowledge of the ways of the Police, make great trouble for honest butlers in the matter of weekly accounts.’
What William thought of it all she did not say, but when her brother, ten days later, came to camp for orders, and heard of Scott’s performances, he said, laughing: ’Well, that settles it. He’ll be Bakri Scott to the end of his days’ (Bakri, in the northern vernacular, means a goat). ’What a lark! I’d have given a month’s pay to have seen him nursing famine babies. I fed some with conjee [rice-water], but that was all right.’
‘It’s perfectly disgusting,’ said his sister, with blazing eyes. ’A man does something like—like that—and all you other men think of is to give him an absurd nickname, and then you laugh and think it’s funny.’
‘Ah,’ said Mrs. Jim, sympathetically.
’Well, _ you_ can’t talk, William. You christened little Miss Demby the Button-quail last cold weather; you know you did. India’s the land of nicknames.’
That’s different,’ William replied. ’She was only a girl, and she hadn’t done anything except walk like a quail, and she does. But it isn’t fair to make fun of a man.’