"Then you may take it for certain that a portion of your history is connected with Calcutta or some other Indian port," he said. "You've told me a good deal, and you said that it was certain that you could speak a few words of the language. A chap couldn't imagine all this. To me it is utterly strange. The bright streets, the dust, the water-carriers, the stall-holders in the bazaar, elephants and horses with their bright saddlery. It is totally different from England. To my mind it is certain that you were born out here. It was natural for you to forget a great deal when you were absent from the country, but the first sight of old familiar scenes brings back recollections." Could it be so? Did he really and truly remember Calcutta in some vague uncertain way? Owen asked himself that question again and again. He shut his eyes and let his mind carry him back to the days, not so very long ago, when he was a child of four or five. "I can see a big house, something like this," he said to himself, "with native servants all about, and a white lady. There was a black woman too, an ayah or nurse, I suppose, and an officer who was very tall. They ran to me and lifted me in their arms. Then there was a ship--yes, yes, I can see it here. It tossed up and down and I was ill. Then--I can only recall the postchaise galloping along the road, and old Mrs. Jones's honest face." He gave vent to a sigh, a somewhat unusual thing with Owen, and opened his eyes to find the Major standing over him. "In pain?" he asked curtly. "No, sir. Thinking only." "What! Tired of India already? Wanting to get home again?" He smiled in a bantering manner as he stared at our hero. "No, sir. But--well, I was thinking of the time when I was a youngster--I mean when I was about five years of age. You may have heard my story, sir?" The Major nodded sympathetically. "We all knew it," he said gravely. "We believe that you were sent home, and that some rascal had a reason for disposing of you. Some day, never fear, the mystery will be cleared up. Wicked tricks like that fail very often." "Then I was thinking of that time, and I swear that this town, or a very similar one, is familiar to me. I think I can, very vaguely, remember my mother and father, and certainly I can recollect the house. When I am able to walk I shall search for it." "Then you will have little time," came the prompt answer, "for soldiers have to put their private business aside, my boy, and you will be no exception. His Majesty and the Honourable Company, otherwise John Company, will require your services. In fact they need them now. You must get well as rapidly as possible." Owen and Jack both expressed astonishment, for they had heard no rumour of expected or impending trouble. But then they had only been ashore a very few hours.