Vice, the
Queen," and Little Mildred from the bottom of the table answered, "The
Queen, God bless her!" and the big spurs clanked as the big men heaved
themselves up and drank the Queen, upon whose pay they were falsely
supposed to pay their mess bills. That sacrament of the mess never
grows old, and never ceases to bring a lump into the throat of the
listener wherever he be, by land or by sea. Dirkovitch rose with his
"brothers glorious," but he could not understand. No one but an
officer can understand what the toast means; and the bulk have more
sentiment than comprehension. It all comes to the same in the end, as
the enemy said when he was wriggling on a lance point. Immediately
after the little silence that follows on the ceremony there entered
the native officer who had played for the Lushkar team. He could not
of course eat with the alien, but he came in at dessert, all six feet
of him, with the blue-and-silver turban atop, and the big black
top-boots below. The mess rose joyously as he thrust forward the hilt
of his saber, in token of fealty, for the colonel of the White Hussars
to touch, and dropped into a vacant chair amid shouts of "_Rung ho_!
Hira Singh!" (which being translated means "Go in and win!"). "Did I
whack you over the knee, old man?" "Ressaidar Sahib, what the devil
made you play that kicking pig of a pony in the last ten minutes?"
"Shabash, Ressaidar Sahib!" Then the voice of the colonel, "The health
of Ressaidar Hira Singh!"
After the shouting had died away, Hira Singh rose to reply, for he was
the cadet of a royal house, the son of a king's son, and knew what was
due on these occasions.
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