Major Warrener was in uniform, having just come up from the orderly-room.
He was a tall, soldierly figure, inclining to stoutness. His general
expression was that of cheeriness and good temper; but he was looking, as
he drove up, grave and serious. His brow cleared, however, as his eye fell
upon the group in the veranda.

"Ah! Dunlop, brought the news about the boar, eh?"

"You will take us with you?" the girls asked in a breath.

"Oh, yes, you shall go; I will drive you myself. I am getting too heavy
for pig-sticking, especially with such responsibilities as you about.
There, I will get out of this uniform; it's hot for the time of year. What
are you drinking? nothing? Boy, bring some soda and brandy!"

Then, producing his cigar-case, he took a cheroot.

"Ag-low!" he shouted, and a native servant ran up with a piece of red-hot
charcoal held in a little pair of tongs.

"There, sit down and make yourselves comfortable till I come back."

The lads, finding that their society was not particularly required,
strolled off to the stables, where Ned entered into a conversation with
the _syces_ as to the distance to Meanwerrie and the direction in which
that village lay. Like all Anglo-Indian children brought up in India, the
boys had, when they left India, spoken the language fluently. They had
almost entirely forgotten it during their stay in England, but it speedily
came back again, and Ned, at the end of three months' work, found that he