"Here you, sir," said a familiar voice, as a figure came up through the darkness. "Where's Major Sandars--at the officers' quarters or the residency? Do you hear? Why don't you speak?"

"That path leads to the officers' quarters, Mr Robert Roberts, and the other leads, as you well know, to the residency. Now go and find out for yourself, and don't air your salt-junk bl.u.s.ter on sh.o.r.e."

"Salt-junk bl.u.s.ter be bothered," said Bob sharply. "How the d.i.c.kens was I to know it was you standing stuck-up against that tree like two tent poles in a roll of canva.s.s? Here, I've come from the skipper to see if the major's got any spare leggings, for fear of the n.o.ble captain getting any thorns in his legs."

"Hang the captain!" growled Tom.

"Hang the major, then!" said Bob sharply.

"You may hang them both, if you like," said Tom.

"I should like to kris them all over, till they looked like skewered chickens ready for the spit," said Bob. "I say, ain't it an awful shame?"

"Shame, yes," said Tom Long, slightly mollified by his companion's sympathy. "I don't see why one of us two should be left out of the party. It isn't much pleasure we get."

"No," said Bob sharply; "but I think if one of us was to go it ought to have been this young person."

"Well, but you are going, aren't you?" said Tom Long.

"Not I," said Bob. "I'm second officer on board HMS 'Startler' till they come back, that's all."

"But, my dear Bob, I thought you were going. Old d.i.c.k, who was ash.o.r.e an hour ago, told me you were."

"Then old d.i.c.k told you a cram," said Bob. "He said you were going, though."

"I'll kick old d.i.c.k first time I see him," cried Tom Long. "I'm not going. Smithers and I are to be in charge of the fort."

"You are not going?" cried Bob incredulously.

"No!"

"Oh, I am glad."

"Thanky," said Tom.

"No, I don't mean that," said Bob. "I mean I'm glad I'm not going, now you are not."

"I say, Bob, do you mean that?" said Tom Long excitedly, and dropping all his stiffness.

"Of course I do," said Bob. "What's the fun of going without a friend?"

"Bob, you're a regular little brick," said Tom Long. "Shake hands.

'Pon my word I shall end by liking you."

Bob shook hands, and laughed.

"Oh, I say, though," he exclaimed. "Poor old Ali! Won't he be cut up, just?"

"Yes, he won't like it," said Tom Long thoughtfully. "And he was to have a big elephant all ready for us."

"Yes," said Bob. "But I say, I wonder we haven't heard from him since that day he was here."

"Yes, he might have sent a message of some kind."

"He's been up the country with a b.u.t.terfly net to catch an elephant for us," said Bob, laughing.

"And now he'll have it all to himself," said Tom.

"I'll bet half a rupee that he don't," said Bob.

"Oh, yes, he will," said Tom. "I rather like him, though. He isn't a bad sort of n.i.g.g.e.r."

"Don't call the fellows _n.i.g.g.e.rs_," said Bob impatiently; "they don't like it."

"Then they mustn't call us _giaours_ and _dogs_," said Tom impatiently.

"Look here," cried Bob, "I must go on after these leggings for the skipper; but, I say, Tom, as I said before, I'll bet half a rupee that Ali don't go to the hunt when he finds we are to stay."

"Stuff!"

"Well, it may be stuff; but you see if he don't stop behind, and, as soon as they are all off, come across here."

"I wish he would," said Tom. "It'll be dull enough."

"If he does, we'll have a good turn at the fish," said Bob. "Good night, if I don't see you again."

"I say," said Bob, turning round and speaking out of the darkness.

"Well?"

"I don't wish 'em any harm; but I hope they won't see a blessed tiger all the time they're away."

"So do I," said Tom. "Good night!"

"Good night!" And Bob found the major; borrowed the pair of canvas leggings, with which he returned to the boat, and was rowed back to the corvette, where he had the pleasure of going over the captain's shooting gear, and helping him to fill his cartridge cases, and the like.

"You'll have to go on a trip yourself Roberts, by-and-by," said the captain.

"Thank-ye, sir," said Bob. "When, sir, please?"

"When the soreness about rescuing those slave girls has worn off, Master Bob Roberts," said the captain, smiling. "I can't afford to have one of my most promising young officers krissed."

"All soft soap and flam," said Bob to himself, as he went out on deck.

"Promising officer, indeed. Well, he's a promising officer, and I'll keep him to his promise, too; and old Ali, and Tom, and I will have another day to ourselves."

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.