The words were in English -- the tinny , saw-cut English of the native-bred , and the Chaplain jumped . ' A scapular , ' said he , opening his hand . ` No , some sort of heathen charm . Why -- why , do you speak English ? Little boys who steal are beaten . You know that ? ' ' I do not -- I did not steal . ' Kim danced in agony like a terrier at a lifted stick . ` Oh , give it me . It is my charm . Do not thieve it from me . ' The Chaplain took no heed , but , going to the tent door , called aloud . A fattish , clean-shaven man appeared . ' I want your advice , Father Victor , ' said Bennett . ' I found this boy in the dark outside the Mess-tent . Ordinarily , I should have chastised him and let him go , because I believe him to be a thief . But it seems he talks English , and he attaches some sort of value to a charm round his neck . I thought perhaps you might help me . ' Between himself and the Roman Catholic Chaplain of the Irish contingent lay , as Bennett believed , an unbridgeable gulf , but it was noticeable that whenever the Church of England dealt with a human problem she was very likely to call in the Church of Rome . Bennett 's official abhorrence of the Scarlet Woman and all her ways was only equalled by his private respect for Father Victor . '
A thief talking XXXXX , is it ?
Bennett Chaplain England English Irish Kim Rome Victor abhorrence fattish