The captain's quarters, in which he had been born, delayed him for
a little; then he looked at the well on the parade-ground, where
he had sat of evenings with his nurse, and at the ten-by-fourteen
church, where the officers went to service if a chaplain of any
official creed happened to come along. It seemed very small as
compared with the gigantic buildings he used to stare up at, but
it was the same place.
>From time to time he passed a knot of silent soldiers, who saluted.
They might have been the very men who had carried him on their
backs when he was in his first knickerbockers. A faint light
burned in his room, and, as he entered, hands clasped his feet,
and a voice murmured from the floor.
"Who is it?" said young Chinn, not knowing he spoke in the Bhil
tongue.
"I bore you in my arms, Sahib, when I was a strong man and you
were a small one - crying, crying, crying! I am your servant,
as I was your father's before you. We are all your servants."
Young Chinn could not trust himself to reply, and the voice went
on:
"I have taken your keys from that fat foreigner, and sent him
away; and the studs are in the shirt for mess.
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