Part 2 (2/2)

The Kaffir quietly submitted to the rough handling he experienced in being forced up to the stool, and, antic.i.p.ating the order, he opened his mouth; but the under-searcher roughly told him to ”shut up,” and he closed his fine white teeth with an audible snap, while the search was commenced at his feet, the toes being carefully examined without result.

Then his closely-knotted hair, which looked as if it would have made, if he were scalped, good tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs of astrachan wool for the collar and cuffs of an English gentleman's overcoat, was carefully searched by well-trained fingers; the ears were probed and inspected; nostrils searched and given a final wring between thumb and finger as if he were being insulted in old-fas.h.i.+oned style by pulling his nose; and lastly, his cheeks were felt outside and in, and the searchers, who looked puzzled, made the black kneel down and remain for some time in that position, with his mouth wide open and head thrown back so that the sun shone right into his great mouth.

”He's all right!” said Anson enthusiastically. ”You've got the wrong pig by the ear this time. I thought this fellow looked honest.”

The Kaffir darted a grateful look at the speaker, which told plainly enough that he comprehended the words, and Anson replied with a smile.

”Ah, you ought to be on this job, Mr Anson,” said the chief searcher sarcastically. ”You'd be invaluable here.”

Anson laughed good-humouredly.

”You're bantering,” he said; ”I know. But I should like it, and I fancy I could find the diamonds quickly enough if a man had hidden any.”

”Find them then now,” said the man who had spoken. ”Come on.”

There was a general laugh here, in which Anson joined.

”Nay,” he said good-humouredly; ”get another subject who has some hidden. That chap has none, unless he has swallowed some.”

”What would you do then, squire?” said the man. ”Shoot him, and make a _post-mortem_ exam?”

”Ugh! horrid!” cried Anson, with a look of the most intense disgust.

”But I say, I mean it. Fetch another chap, and let me examine him. I should like to, really.”

”Why don't you search this one?” said Ingleborough contemptuously, and West laughed.

Anson winced and turned upon them half-angrily. But he changed his manner before he had finished speaking, and his face broke up into a broad smile.

”Because I don't want to be laughed at by you chaps and called a fool,”

he said. ”I'm not stupid enough as it is to believe he has any diamonds hidden.”

”Well, I am,” said Ingleborough coolly.

”Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Anson mockingly. ”You go on with the search then, and find them.”

”There is no need,” said Ingleborough coldly; ”those two know what they're about.”

He was wrong in saying ”two,” for the under-searcher now continued the examination, and Anson's eyes were screwed-up and twinkled again upon seeing the man give up at the end of another two minutes and shrug his shoulders.

”No go,” he said, turning to his companion. ”Someone has been too clever here.”

”Look again,” said his chief.

”No: I shan't look any more. I've done.”

West's eyes were resting upon the Kaffir, and he saw the man draw in a deep slow breath which made his broad chest expand, retaining the air for a minute and then slowly ejecting it.

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