One fine morning Conway cantered up to the old Scotsman's hotel, into which he strode with a bustling, dutified air. "Swan," quoth he, "Colonel ---- (mentioning the well-known name of one of Sir Garnet's principal staff officers) will be here in a few minutes. He is riding in advance of the General, so as to make arrangements for the accommodation of Sir Garnet and his whole staff, who will be staying in this dorp for some considerable time. The Colonel was recommended to go to the new hotel, but I, who am acting as his guide, have persuaded him to try you first of all, to see if you can furnish the necessary requirements. Of course you will have to do your very best, furnish the best rooms, supply the very best food and liquor, and all that sort of thing, and the Colonel will require a private sitting-room, in which to carry on his correspondence, while he is awaiting the General's arrival."
Old Swan nosed what he thought was going to turn out to be a most profitable bit of business. He had heard of the enormous sums of money squandered by the Imperial Government during the late Zulu war, and his fingers fairly itched at the chance of being thrust into the plunder pot. In a moment he was all smiles and attention, even going so far as to promise to turn out, at a moment's notice, all his usual guests and to reserve the whole of the house for the great man and his staff. Throwing open the door of his own cosy sitting-room, he inquired if Conway thought that would do until a better one could be provided, and also asked if he should be doing right to invite the Colonel to have a drink on his dismounting.
"Well," said Conway, "I should hardly do that, as perhaps Colonel ---- may be one of those rabid teetotallers who do not like to drink in public, but you had better place a bottle of whisky, one of brandy, yes, and perhaps one of gin, together with some soda-water, and a box of your very best cigars on that buffet, and if he should help himself you will then know whether he drinks or not. Ah, by Jove! here he comes."
A fine stalwart figure, clothed in undress uniform, rode slowly across the big market square and, reining up at the front door, leisurely dismounted. Handing his horse over to the grinning Tottie hostler, he coolly scanned the front of the premises and the surroundings. Out rushed the obsequious host, more leisurely followed by the debonair but still respectful Conway.