I hardly know her myself. Never saw her since she was a baby
till the other day. Now you are the sort of person to go after tigers.
Why do you not go off with my nephew and Mr. Isaacs and Kildare, and
kill as many of them as you like?"
"I have no objection, I am sure. I suppose the _Howler_ could spare me
for a fortnight, now that I have converted the Press Commissioner, your
new _deus ex machina_ for the obstruction of news. What a motley party
we should be. Let me see.--a Bombay Civil Servant, an Irish nobleman, a
Persian millionaire, and a Yankee newspaper man. By Jove! add to that a
famous Revenue Commissioner and a reigning beauty, and the sextett is
complete." Mr. Ghyrkins looked pleased at the gross flattery of himself.
I recollected suddenly that, though he was far from famous as a revenue
commissioner, I had read of some good shooting he had done in his
younger days. Here was a chance.
"Besides, Mr. Ghyrkins, a tiger-hunting party would not be the thing
without some seasoned Nimrod to advise and direct us. Who so fitted for
the post as the man of many a chase, the companion of Maori, the slayer
of the twelve foot tiger in the Nepaul hills in 1861?"
"You have a good memory, Mr. Griggs," said the old fellow, perfectly
delighted, and now fairly launched on his favourite topic.
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