"Not in the least. I'd rather be with the Guides than any corps. With all respect to your sepoys of the 193rd, they've neither the stamina nor the resource of our fellows." "H'm! you're welcome to them. Eh, Paterson?" "I agree with you, Ted. Have you ever seen Colonel Nicholson, Lieutenant Spencer?" "Jan Nikkulseyn? Rather. I sha'n't forget the first time I met him. It was south of Peshawur, close to the border, where a gang of Afghan labourers were making a road, protected by a half-company of sepoys under an English subaltern, for it was in a wild district. It was just after the rains, and a bullock-cart had stuck fast in the deep mud; and the bullocks, not having the grit of a horse, wouldn't make any efforts. I happened to be riding past with a couple of troopers. A big fellow standing by in civilian dress had taken his coat off and put his shoulder to the wheel, but they couldn't move it. This civilian, whom I took to be the man in charge of the work, then asked the lieutenant and the sepoys to lend a hand. But the sepoys coolly informed him that they had enlisted to fight, not to do menial work, and the officer said: "'It's no business of mine. I'm here to protect the road-makers, not to do their work.' "I dismounted, and so did one of my two men. The other, Hafiz Khan, bent down and whispered: "'I go to get help, Lieutenant Sahib'; and before I could stop him he was galloping away. Well, we two turned the scale--though the big civilian was worth us both--and at last we got the cart out and trotted away. A mile or two farther on we saw Hafiz Khan waiting for us, and when I slanged him for not staying to help us, he replied: "'But he once threatened to hang me, Lieutenant Sahib, and Jan Nikkulseyn never breaks his word'. "'Who?' I asked, quite taken aback. "'Jan Nikkulseyn. I am not afraid of a little pushing and pulling, but of Jan Nikkulseyn are we all afraid.' "The civilian was Colonel Nicholson. Hafiz Khan had been engaged in two or three raids before he had enlisted, and, bold as they are, there's not a Pathan along the border dare look Nicholson between the eyes." "And what became of the lieutenant?" asked Ted. "He applied for an important appointment at Peshawur a month later. He found out his mistake then, and felt sorry he'd ever been born." A clatter of hoofs interrupted their talk, and Ted ran to the outer door to admit his brother. Captain Russell was quiet and grave, for his happy days had come to an end, and to-morrow the dull routine of regimental work would begin again. He was evidently little inclined for conversation, and before long the four officers passed off into the adjoining bedrooms.