 complimented him upon the neatness of the former; and the select
guests who came in to share Strong's cutlet now found a bottle of excellent
claret to accompany the meal. The Chevalier was now, as he said, »in clover:« he
had a very comfortable set of rooms in Shepherd's Inn. He was waited on by a
former Spanish Legionary and comrade of his whom he had left at a breach of a
Spanish fort, and found at a crossing in Tottenham Court Road, and whom he had
elevated to the rank of body-servant to himself and to the chum who, at present,
shared his lodgings. This was no other than the favourite of the Nawaub of
Lucknow, the valiant Colonel Altamont.
    No man was less curious, or, at any rate, more discreet, than Ned Strong,
and he did not care to inquire into the mysterious connection which, very soon
after their first meeting at Baymouth, was established between Sir Francis
Clavering and the envoy of the Nawaub. The latter knew some secret regarding the
former which put Clavering into his power, somehow; and Strong, who knew that
his patron's early life had been rather irregular, and that his career with his
regiment in India had not been brilliant, supposed that the Colonel, who swore
he knew Clavering well at Calcutta, had some hold upon Sir Francis to which the
latter was forced to yield. In truth, Strong had long understood Sir Francis
Clavering's character, as that of a man utterly weak in purpose, in principle,
and intellect, a moral and physical trifler and poltroon.
    With poor Clavering his Excellency had had one or two interviews after their
Baymouth meeting, the nature of which conversations the Baronet did not confide
to Strong, although he sent letters to Altamont by that gentleman, who was his
ambassador in all sorts of affairs. On one of these occasions the Nawaub's envoy
must have been in an exceeding ill-humour, for he crushed Clavering's letter in
his hand, and said with his own particular manner and emphasis, -
    »A hundred be hanged. I'll have no more letters nor no more shilly-shally.
Tell Clavering I'll have a thousand, or by Jove I'll split, and burst him all to
atoms. Let him give me a thousand, and I'll go abroad; and I give you my honour
as a gentleman, I'll not ask him for no more for a year. Give him that message
from me, Strong, my boy; and tell him if the
