It's this mixture of Red Bulls and Rivers of Healing (poor heathen, God help him!) an' notes of hand and Masonic certificates.

Are you a Mason, by any chance ?' 'By Jove, I am, now I come to think of it.

That's an additional reason,' said the Colonel absently.
'I'm glad ye see a reason in it.

But as I said, it's the mixture o' things that's beyond me.

An' his prophesyin' to our Colonel, sitting on my bed with his little shimmy torn open showing his white skin; an' the prophecy comin' true! They'll cure all that nonsense at St Xavier's, eh ?' 'Sprinkle him with holy water,' the Colonel laughed.
'On my word, I fancy I ought to sometimes.