‘I do not quite understand,’ said Mr Bennett.  ’He probably brought them on purpose.  It may be a begging trick of some kind.’

’I never saw a beggar less anxious to stay with his company, then.  There’s the makings of a gay mystery here.  Ye believe in Providence, Bennett?’

‘I hope so.’

’Well, I believe in miracles, so it comes to the same thing.  Powers of Darkness!  Kimball O’Hara!  And his son!  But then he’s a native, and I saw Kimball married myself to Annie Shott.  How long have you had these things, boy?’

‘Ever since I was a little baby.’

Father Victor stepped forward quickly and opened the front of Kim’s upper garment.  ’You see, Bennett, he’s not very black.  What’s your name?’

‘Kim.’

‘Or Kimball?’

‘Perhaps.  Will you let me go away?’

‘What else?’

‘They call me Kim Rishti ke.  That is Kim of the Rishti.’

‘What is that — “Rishti"?’

‘Eye-rishti — that was the Regiment — my father’s.’

‘Irish — oh, I see.’

‘Yess.  That was how my father told me.  My father, he has lived.’

‘Has lived where?’

‘Has lived.  Of course he is dead — gone-out.’

‘Oh!  That’s your abrupt way of putting it, is it?’

Bennett interrupted.  ’It is possible I have done the boy an injustice.  He is certainly white, though evidently neglected.  I am sure I must have bruised him.  I do not think spirits -’

’Get him a glass of sherry, then, and let him squat on the cot.  Now, Kim,’ continued Father Victor, ’no one is going to hurt you.  Drink that down and tell us about yourself.  The truth, if you’ve no objection.’

Kim coughed a little as he put down the empty glass, and considered.  This seemed a time for caution and fancy.  Small boys who prowl about camps are generally turned out after a whipping.  But he had received no stripes; the amulet was evidently working in his favour, and it looked as though the Umballa horoscope and the few words that he could remember of his father’s maunderings fitted in most miraculously.  Else why did the fat padre seem so impressed, and why the glass of hot yellow drink from the lean one?

’My father, he is dead in Lahore city since I was very little.  The woman, she kept kabarri shop near where the hire-carriages are.’  Kim began with a plunge, not quite sure how far the truth would serve him.

‘Your mother?’

‘No!’ — with a gesture of disgust.  ’She went out when I was born.  My father, he got these papers from the Jadoo-Gher what do you call that?’ (Bennett nodded) ’because he was in good-standing.  What do you call that?’ (again Bennett nodded).  ’My father told me that.  He said, too, and also the Brahmin who made the drawing in the dust at Umballa two days ago, he said, that I shall find a Red Bull on a green field and that the Bull shall help me.’