"My wigs, but you’ve had a time of it. Mutiny and all! Dash my buttons, here’s a tale for the ladies! Let me look at you. Yes, you’ll do now, and faith you’re a pretty fellow. And Dick Burke’s son! You’ve got his nose to a T; no nonsense about that. Now you’re ready to make your bow to Mr. Bourchier. He’s been a coursing match with Colonel Clive and Mr. Watson[#] up Malabar Hill, and we’ll catch him before he sits down to supper. How do you feel inside, by the way? Ready for a decent meal after the Pirate’s hog’s wash, eh?" [#] It was customary to use the title Mr. in speaking to or of both naval and military officers. "I’m quite comfortable inside," said Desmond smiling, "but, to tell you the truth, Mr. Johnson, I feel mighty uneasy outside. After six months of the dhoti these breeches and things seem just like bandages." "It en’t the first time you’ve been swaddled, if you had a mother. Well now, if you’re ready. What! That rascal gashed you? Tuts! ’tis a scratch. Can’t wait to doctor that. Come on." The two made their way into the fort enclosure, and walked rapidly to Government House in the centre. In answer to Mr. Johnson the darwan[#] at the door said that the Governor would not return that night. After the coursing match he was giving a supper party at his country house at Parel. [#] Doorkeeper. "That’s a nuisance. But we can’t have any nonsense. The Governor’s a bit of an autocrat; too much starch in his shirt, I say; but we’ll go out to Parel and beard him, by Jove! ’Tis only five miles out, and we’ll drive there in under an hour." Turning away he hurried out past the tank-house on to the Green, and by good luck found an empty shigram[#] waiting to be hired. Desmond mounted the vehicle with no little curiosity. These great beasts with their strange humps would surely not cover five miles in less than an hour. But he was undeceived when they started. The two sturdy oxen trotted along at a good pace in obedience to the driver’s goad, and the shigram rattled across Bombay Green, past the church and the whitewashed houses of the English merchants, their oyster-shell windows already lit up; and in some forty-five minutes entered a long avenue leading to Mr. Bourchier’s country house. Twice during the course of the journey Desmond was interested to see the shigramwallah[#] pull his team up, dismount, and, going to their heads, insert his hand in their mouths. [#] Carriage like a palanquin on wheels. [#] Wallah is a personal affix, denoting a close connexion between the person and the thing described by the main word. Shigramwallah thus=carriage-driver. "What does he do that for?" he asked. "To clear their throats, to be sure. When the beasts go at this pace they make a terrible lot of foam, and if he didn’t swab it out they’d choke, and no nonsense. Well, here we are. Dash my wig, won’t his Excellency open his eyes!"