'I expect so,' answered the police-officer, then he paused. 'It is likely to be a troublesome case, sir,' he continued, turning to Sir George, 'for she claims to belong to the Nawâb s house. And as if that wasn't enough, it seems that one of the soldiers knocked a man down. Just knocked him down as one would anybody, you know. He seemed none the worse for half an hour, when he suddenly went out. Spleen, of course. I wonder when Tommy will remember that half the natives about him ought to be in glass cases!' Sir George Arbuthnot frowned too. 'It is most unfortunate; especially just now. These women are really----' he paused and looked apologetically at his wife. 'However, we shall have no more of this sort of thing. Both regiments go out to Morâdki as soon as we can get the carriage together. We settled that finally. The desert will do them good!' CHAPTER XI THE SPIRIT OF KINGS AND SLAVES Jerry Arbuthnot, in his smart little riding-suit, was seated on the top step of John Ellison's tomb, his pony, meanwhile, held by a syce, trying to snatch a bite of long grass growing close to the bottom one. Between the two, forming a pyramid of which the child's dainty little figure made the apex, were several other figures. First of all, bareheaded, eminently respectable in a clean suit of drill, was Jân-Ali-shân, seated sideways a step below, his face towards Jerry. Below again--crouched up knees and elbows--was Budlu the caretaker, his eyes on Jân-Ali-shân's; and beside him, resplendent in red coat and gold lace, the Mohammedan _chuprassi_ told off to accompany his little master on his morning rides. For the dew still lay heavy on the grass, like hoar-frost, so that the hoopoes, hopping over it in the search for food, left greener trails behind them to lattice the grey glisten. 'Then,' came the child's clear, high voice, 'you are quite the most youngest hero of the lot--sir.' He hesitated over the title; finally gave it, palpably, as a tribute to the heroism, perhaps to the name. Jân-Ali-shân brushed a faint speck of dust from his white drill. 'That is so, sir. I was but a two month when I done the job, an' that don't leave much margin for honest competition. It runs to a mono-polly; that's what it do, sir, a regular mono-polly.' He tailed off into 'Polly, my Polly; she is so jolly. The jolliest craft in the world!' which he carolled cheerfully, making the hoopoes cock their crests and hold their heads on one side to listen. Jerry sate looking at them thoughtfully. 'I was afwaid you must be, 'cos, you see, it's such ages ago,' he said at last, argumentatively. 'Ages an' ages. I wasn't even near borned then. How much older'n me d'you s'ppose you are, sir?'