“Show your manners!”

Once more he waved his stern exactly once.

“Give it to him, ma’am.”

Tess touched the bone with her foot, and the dog took it away, scaring Chamu along the veranda in front of him.

“Why don’t you ever call him by name, Tom?”

“Bad for him, ma’am.  When I say, ‘Here, you!’ or whistle, he obeys quick as lightning.  But if I say, ‘Trotters!’ which his name is, he knows he’s got to do his own thinking, and keeps his distance till he’s sure what’s wanted.  A dog’s like an enlisted man, ma’am; ought to be taught to jump at the word of command and never think for himself until you call him out of the ranks by name.  Trotters understands me perfectly.”

“Speaking of names,” said Tess, “I’d like to introduce you to my guest, Tom, but I’m afraid—­”

“You may call me Gunga Singh,” said a quiet voice full of amusement, and Tom Tripe started.  He turned about in his chair and for the first time looked the third member of the party in the face.

“Hoity-toity!  Well, I’m jiggered!  Dash my drink and dinner, it’s the princess!”

He rose and saluted cavalierly, jocularly, yet with a deference one could not doubt, showing tobacco-darkened teeth in a smile of almost paternal indulgence.

“So the Princess Yasmini is Gunga Singh this morning, eh?  And here’s Tom Tripe riding up-hill and down-dale, laming his horse and sweating through a clean tunic—­with a threat in his ear and a reward promised that he’ll never see a smell of—­while the princess is smoking cigarettes—­”

“In very good company!”

“In good company, aye; but not out of mischief, I’ll be bound!  Naughty, naughty!” he said, wagging a finger at her.  “Your ladyship’ll get caught one of these days, and where will Tom Tripe be then?  I’ve got my job to keep, you know.  Friendship’s friendship and respect’s respect, but duty’s what I’m paid to do.  Here’s me, drill-master of the maharajah’s troops and a pension coming to me consequent on good behavior, with orders to set a guard over you, miss, and prevent your going and coming without his highness’ leave.  And here’s you giving the guard the slip!  Somebody tipped his highness off, and I wish you’d heard what’s going to happen to me unless I find you!”

“You can’t find me, Tom Tripe!  I’m not Yasmini today; I’m Gunga Singh!”

“Tut-tut, Your Ladyship; that won’t do!  I swore on my Bible oath to the maharajah that I left you day before yesterday closely guarded in the palace across the river.  He felt easy for the first time for a week.  Now, because they’re afraid for their skins, the guard all swear by Krishna you were never in there, and that I’ve been bribed!  How did you get out of the grounds, miss?”

“Climbed the wall.”

“I might have remembered you’re as active as a cat!  Next time I’ll mount a double guard on the wall, so they’ll tumble off and break their necks if they fall asleep.  But there are no boats, for I saw to it, and the bridge is watched.  How did you cross the river?”