It was just a wild angry song of the rebels!

ELIZABETH.

Don't you see, child? The tiger was the n.o.blest of beasts for them; there was nothing else so royal and terrible. They meant that he was n.o.bler than the n.o.blest! [_She speaks with quiet emotion._

CARLYON.

Exactly! Exactly! And they happened to be fond of snakes, so they said I was like one! [_Satirically._

ELIZABETH.

Of course they only saw him as a deadly fighter; that was as much as they could understand! They never dreamed of the heights and depths----

CARLYON.

_You_ would have made me one of your invalid fowls, Elizabeth, wouldn't you? Hullo, has one of them been biting you?

[_Pointing to her hand in the handkerchief._

VERA.

Why, Elizabeth!

ELIZABETH.

Oh, it's nothing at all.

VERA.

Let me see. [ELIZABETH _tries to put her off_.] No, I _will_ see! Why, it is right to the bone both sides! That creature ought really----

ELIZABETH.

[_With mild annoyance._] Dear me, Vera, it's really nothing at all! The chicken I put in was frightened and lay still, so the poor fellow wouldn't look at it. So I just put my hand in and was stirring the chicken up----

CARLYON.

And he swooped upon you! Go away at once, Elizabeth; and never say I'm like those eagles again!

[ADENE _opens the door for_ ELIZABETH.

ELIZABETH.

[_To_ VERA.] No, you shan't come with me, dear! I am quite ashamed, Mr.

Adene, to make such a fuss!

ADENE.

My dear lady, it is the absence of fuss that strikes me! [_Exit_ ELIZABETH.] Well, if I had had my hand bitten right through by a Himalayan eagle----

VERA.

It's a frightful bite!

CARLYON.

[_Carelessly._] Oh, that's Elizabeth all over! It is true, though, in the main, what she was saying. The thing those people care for is fighting-power. They like a conqueror to enjoy his conquering, the trampling and slaughtering and all the rest of it.

ADENE.

What did they make of your hospitals and your care for the wounded?

CARLYON.

Didn't like it! Too inconsistent altogether!

VERA.

In fact, Mr. Adene, if you want to be popular in Bhojal, get a certificate from a clergyman stating that you are a professional robber, and have burnt alive all your female relations!

ADENE.

Well, you've rather staggered me. But I can't give up Bhojal. It is my work.

CARLYON.

[_Rises._] You young people and your work! I suppose I am growing decrepit. I would sooner keep a whole skin than even know about the dialects. It is to be the dialects? Or is it the history?--of Bhojal.

[_Near_ ADENE.

ADENE.

History first.

CARLYON.

Ah well, there isn't any! So even the dialects are more important.

Forgive me, Adene! I am far from depreciating your work, but you're like Vera. She thinks the world would stand still if a particular medical treatise were not ready by November, and you---- Ah, I prefer to take things easily! [_Goes towards door. To_ VERA _who follows him_.] Mr.

Adene may have letters to write. You'll ring when he wants to be shown his room.

[ADENE _rises. Exit_ CARLYON; VERA _goes with him to the door_.

VERA.

Shall I ring now? Post at six.

ADENE.

Not unless you wish to be rid of me. I suppose this is the medical treatise?