With a flick of his finger, Aldean sent the stump of his cigarette flying over the balustrade.
"That is what I should like to do," he said, in his deep voice; "chuck them both into space."
"I did not ask you what you would like to do to them, but what you think of them."
"They are two bounders--at least, Semberry is one."
"You are prejudiced, my James," said Mallow, coolly; "Semberry is a well-bred man, but Carson--ahem!--Carson is not a gentleman."
"Upon my soul, Jim, I don't believe he is." Mallow jumped up, and balanced himself on the railing of the terrace immediately before his friend. "I don't believe he is," he repeated. "He is supposed to have come from India. Well, he knows precious little about India, although I have questioned him repeatedly. He talks with a distinct foreign accent; his every action is suggestive of continental society, and he looks like an Italian. See here, Jim"--he slipped down, clicked his heels together, and made a stiff bow from the waist--"is that English?" He mimicked Carson's speech: "You think so, yes? Is that English, Jim? I ask you plainly, is there anything English about the man?"
"Well, he isn't English, you know," was Jim's reply.
"His father was a Saxon, and, from all accounts, a public school boy, a University man, gently born and well-bred. Why isn't his son--if this man be his son--more like him?"
"The poor chap hasn't had his father's advantages, Mallow. His mother was a half-caste, and, I suppose, no pattern of breeding. He has been brought up in exile amongst niggers, and has received a scratch education. I don't see what you can expect. Carson's pretty good, considering his disadvantages."
"Confound you, Jim; don't desert to the enemy!" cried Mallow, in a huff.
"I'm not deserting, but I see both sides of the question, and you don't. You believe that the real Carson is dead, and that this man is an impostor."
"And if I do," said Mallow, defiantly, "it was you who put the idea into my head."
"You don't usually take my suggestions so seriously," he said, smiling. "Besides, I had no proof for my assertion, and you--however much you wish to--can't find one. On the other hand, there is ample evidence to show that Carson is the man he declares himself to be. Mrs. Purcell's letter describes him exactly: he has a weak heart and an injured hand; also, he wears the golden bangle, which, as he showed Mrs. Carson in Bombay, cannot be removed. Finally, Carson has been in Semberry's company ever since he left his father's death-bed."