In spite of his caustic humour the Major's passion for the Regiment, to which he had given his life, steadfastly refusing all those staff-appointments for which he was so admirably fitted, was genuine as it was profound. Because of it, his much-tried brother officers, who loved him deeply if they feared him not a little, forgave him all. And if he was sadly unorthodox in many respects, as for instance that he was not a hard and fast Conservative, he was jealously orthodox in others as in that contempt for politicians which is almost an obsession amongst the men of his profession, perhaps because to them it falls to pay the price of the mistakes of their masters at Westminster. The Major and his wife were in brief distinguished from their kind by the fact that they were mentally alive, sympathetic, keen, and knowledgeable. They had passed most of their lives in the East, and were of the few of their fellow-countrymen who had made the most of the opportunities vouchsafed to them. Indeed it was said in the Regiment that what the pair didn't know about India was not worth knowing. Once at a halt on a route-march Ernie saw the Major, standing gaunt and helmeted in the shade of a banyan tree, take a pace out into the road. A native, carrying two sealed pitchers slung from the ends of a bamboo, was padding down the road in the dust between the ranks of the soldiers who had fallen out. The Major spoke to him, then turned to Ernie who was standing by. "See that man, Caspar," he said quietly. "He's a pilgrim. He's tramped all the way from Hardwar, the source of the Ganges, to get holy water--seven hundred miles. What about that for faith?" "Fine, sir," said Ernie, with quiet enthusiasm. "In the days of Chaucer we used to do the same kind of thing in England," continued the Major. "Ever read the 'Canterbury Tales'?" "Dad's read em to me, sir--in bits like." The Major moved away. Close by a group of officers, whose faces clearly showed how profoundly they disapproved of this conversation, were sprawling in the shade. _That was the way to lose caste with the men_. Amongst them was a last-joined lad, chubby still; the other was Mr. Royal of Ernie's company. "What did the Major say he was?" asked the Boy keenly. "I don't know what the Major said he was," answered Mr. Royal coolly. "And between ourselves I don't greatly care. _I_ know what he was. And if you'll ask me prettily I might impart my information." "What was he?" asked the Boy. "He was a coolie," said Mr. Royal. "India's full of them. In fact they're the dominant class." "I thought he looked something a bit out of the ordinary," said the snubbed Boy. "Did you?" retorted Mr. Royal. "I thought myself he looked as if he wanted kicking. And as I've got five years' service to your three months it may be presumed that I'm right." CHAPTER XX ERNIE IN INDIA