Page:Quartette - Kipling (1885).djvu/105

 applause, as professional story-tellers do, caught my eye, and straightway collapsed. There was a moment's awkward silence, and the red-whiskered man muttered something to the effect that he had "forgotten the rest;" thereby sacrificing a reputation as a good story-teller which he had sedulously built up for six seasons past. I blessed him from the bottom of my heart and—went on with my fish.

In the fulness of time that dinner came to an end; and, with genuine regret, I tore myself away from Kitty as certain as I was of my own existence that It would be waiting for me outside the door. The red-whiskered man, who had been introduced as Dr. Heatherlegh of Simla, volunteered to bear me company as far as our roads lay together, and I accepted his offer with gratitude. My instinct had not deceived me. It lay in readiness in the Mall, and in what seemed devilish mockery of our ways, with a lighted head-lamp. The red-whiskered man went to the point at once, in a manner that showed he had been thinking over it all dinner time: "I say, Pansay, what the deuce was the matter with you this evening on the Elysium road?" The suddenness of the question wrenched an answer from me before I was aware. "That!" said I, pointing to It. "That may be either D. T. or eyes for aught I know. Now you don't liquor. I saw as much at dinner, so it can't be D. T. There's is [sic] nothing whatever where you're pointing, though you're sweating and trembling with fright like a scared pony. Therefore, I conclude that it's eyes. And I understand all about them. Come along home with me. I'm on the Blessington lower road." To my intense delight the 'rickshaw instead of waiting for us kept about twenty yards ahead—and this too whether we walked, trotted, or cantered. In the course of that long night ride I had told my companion as much as I have told you here.

"Well, you've spoiled one of the best tales I've ever laid tongue to," said he. "But I'll forgive you for the sake of what you've gone through. Now come along home and do what I tell you; and when I've cured you, young man, let this be a lesson to you to steer clear of women and indigestible food till the day of your death." The 'rickshaw kept steady in front; and my red-whiskered friend seemed to derive great pleasure from my account of its exact whereabouts. "Eyes, Pansay—all eyes. Eyes, Brain, and Stomach; and the greatest of these three is Stomach. You've too much