Wot's _truso_?' said Ortheris.
'You're an oncivilised man, me son. Whin a gurl's married, all her kit
an' 'coutrements are _truso_, which manes weddin'-portion. An' 'tis
the same whin she's runnin' away, even wid the biggest blackguard on
the Arrmy List.
'So I made my plan av campaign. The Colonel's house was a good two
miles away. "Dennis," sez I to my colour-sargint, "av you love me lend
me your kyart, for me heart is bruk an' me feet is sore wid trampin'
to and from this foolishness at the Gaff." An' Dennis lent ut, wid a
rampin', stampin' red stallion in the shafts. Whin they was all settled
down to their _Sweethearts_ for the first scene, which was a long wan,
I slips outside and into the kyart. Mother av Hivin! but I made that
horse walk, an' we came into the Colonel's compound as the divil wint
through Athlone--in standin' leps. There was no one there excipt the
servints, an' I wint round to the back an' found the girl's ayah.
'"Ye black brazen Jezebel," sez I, "sellin' your masther's honour for
five rupees--pack up all the Miss Sahib's kit an' look slippy! _Capt'n
Sahib's_ order," sez I.
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