"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
{it was customary to use the title Mr. in speaking to or of both naval
and military officers} 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 pig's wash, eh?"
"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 inclosure, and walked rapidly to the
Government House in the center. In answer to Mr. Johnson the darwan
{doorkeeper} 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 Parell.
"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
Parell and beard him, by Jove! 'Tis only five miles out, and we'll drive
there in under an hour.
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