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Updated: June 4, 2025
Drop 'em.... What did you think of our bowling yesterday? With anything like a wicket your College should be...." Entering his lonely and sequestered bungalow that evening Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed changed his Pathan dress for European dining-kit, removed his beard and wig, and became Mr. Robin Ross-Ellison. After dinner he wrote to the eminent Cold weather Visitor to India, Mr.
Dearman to death with crowbars, picks, and shovels, murdered all the European and Eurasian employees, looted all that was worth stealing, and, after having set fire to the mills, invaded the Cantonment quarter, burning, murdering, destroying, Colonel Ross-Ellison called out his corps, declared martial law, and took charge of the situation, the civil authorities being dead or cut off in the "districts".
Certain military-looking persons at the back abandoned all dignity and fell upon each other's necks, poured great libations, danced, called upon their gods, or fell prostrate upon settees. Others, seated among the ladies, looked into their bats as though in church. "Has Ross-Ellison faked it?" ran from mouth to mouth, and, "He'll be hung for this".
"Well, I'm damned!" said he in the rôle of Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison. "Rum little devil. Fancy your turning up here." And in the rôle of Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan added in debased Arabic: "Take this money, little dog, and buy thee a tikkut to Kot Ghazi. Get into this train, and at Kot Ghazi follow me to a house." Cornelius Gosling-Green; Mr.
I want you to understand, if you can, that it was not your friend John Ross-Ellison who did that awful deed. It was a Pathan named Ilderim Dost Mahommed. "The strain of the war has been too much for him. He must have had sunstroke too." "And it is I who will pay the penalty of Ilderim Dost Mahommed's deed.
In silence the small force advanced for an hour, passed some cross-roads, and then Colonel Ross-Ellison, who had joined the advance-guard, signalled a halt and moved away by himself to the right of the road. In the shadow of the trees, the moon having risen, Captain Bruce ordered his men to lie down, announcing in a whisper that he would have the life of anyone who made a sound or struck a match.
"I'll certainly believe your word, Colonel, if you're serious, and I'll try and suggest an explanation if you like," replied Mrs. Dearman. "Same to me, Mrs. Dearman?" asked Mr. Ross-Ellison. "I've had 'experiences' too and can tell you one of them." "Same to you, Mr. Ross-Ellison," replied Mrs. Dearman, and added: "But why only one of them?" Mr.
The thong of narrative drives off the dogs of tedium. Tell on." And in point of fact I was now too credulous to be anything but astounded.... John Robin Ross-Ellison! "Well, one day, my brother and I went forth to shoot sand-grouse, tuloor, chikor, chinkara and perchance ibex, leaving behind this black body-servant Moussa Isa, the Somali boy, because he was sick.
"I'll speak to your new Brigadier. If you can find your Lawrence-Smith we'll see what can be done." ... And Lieutenant-Colonel Ross-Ellison wrote to Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith of the Duri Volunteer Rifles to know if he would like a transfer upon advantageous terms, and got no reply.
Awf'ly good of you to turn out, such a beastly cold morning." John Robin Ross-Ellison had come round an adjacent corner, a European warder on either side of him and another behind him, all three, to their credit, as white as their white uniforms and helmets. On his head was a curious bag-like cap.
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