Between himself and the Roman Catholic chaplain of the Irish contingent lay, as Bennett believed, an unbridgeable gulf, but it was noticeable that whenever the Church of England dealt with a human problem she was likely to call in the Church of Rome. Bennett's official abhorrence of the Scarlet Woman and all her ways was only equalled by his private respect for Father Victor. 'A thief talking English is it? Let's look at his charm. No, it's not a scapular, Bennett.' He held out his hand. 'But have we any right to open it? A sound whipping--' 'I did not thieve,' protested Kim. 'You have hit me kicks all over my body. Now give me my charm and I will go away.' 'Not quite so fast; we'll look first,' said Father Victor, leisurely rolling out poor Kimball O'Hara's 'ne varietur' parchment, his clearance-certificate, and Kim's baptismal certificate. On this last O'Hara--with some confused idea that he was doing wonders for his son--had scrawled scores of times: 'Look after the boy. Please look after the boy,'--signing his name and regimental number in full. 'Powers of Darkness below!' said Father Victor, passing all over to Mr. Bennett. 'Do you know what these things are?' 'Yes,' said Kim. 'They are mine, and I want to go away.' '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.'