"Well, well, it can't be helped. When I was in India, I moved from one place to another, and I had pitched my tent in a certain spot. I had a native servant. I forget what his real name was, and it does not matter. I always called him Alec. He was a curious fellow, and the other servants stood in awe of him. They thought that he saw ghosts and had familiar dealings with the spiritual world. He was honest as natives go. He would not allow anyone else to rob me; but, of course, he filched things of mine himself. We are accustomed to that, and think nothing of it. But it was a satisfaction that he kept the fingers of the others off my property. Well, one night, when, as I have informed you, my tent was pitched on a spot I considered eminently convenient, I slept very uncomfortably. It was as though a centipede were crawling over me. Next morning I spoke to Alec, and told him my experiences, and bade him search well my mattress and the floor of my tent. A Hindu's face is impassive, but I thought I detected in his eyes a twinkle of understanding. Nevertheless I did not give it much thought. Next night it was as bad, and in the morning I found my panjams slit from head to foot. I called Alec to me and held up the garment, and said how uncomfortable I had been. 'Ah! sahib,' said he, 'that is the doings of Abdulhamid, the blood-thirsty scoundrel!'" "Excuse me," I interrupted. "Did he mean the present Sultan of Turkey?" "No, quite another, of the same name." "I beg your pardon," I said. "But when you mentioned him as a blood-thirsty scoundrel, I supposed it must be he." "It was not he. It was another. Call him, if you like, the other Abdul. But to proceed with my story." "One inquiry more," said I. "Surely Abdulhamid cannot be a Hindu name?" "I did not say that it was," retorted the major with a touch of asperity in his tone. "He was doubtless a Mohammedan." "But the name is rather Turkish or Arabic." "I am not responsible for that; I was not his godfathers and godmothers at his baptism. I am merely repeating what Alec told me. If you are so captious, I shall shut up and relate no more." "Do not take umbrage," said I. "I surely have a right to test the quality of the material I take in, out of which my wings are to be evolved. Go ahead; I will interrupt no further." "Very well, then, let that be understood between us. Are you caking?" "Slowly," I replied. "The sun is hot; I am drying up on one side of my body." "I think that we had best shift sides of the boat," said the major. "It is the same with me." Accordingly, with caution, we crossed over, and each took the seat on the gunwale lately occupied by the other. "There," said Donelly. "How goes the enemy? My watch got smothered in the mud, and has stopped." "Mine," I explained, "is plastered into my waistcoat pocket, and I cannot get at it without messing my fingers, and there is no more claret left for a wash; the whisky is all inside us."