Transcribers note:

 All inconsistent, unusual and unorthodox spelling has been left as as it was in the original book. 

CAPTAIN DESMOND, V. C. 

by

MAUD DIVER

Author of 'The Great Amulet, ' 'Candles in the Wind, ' Etc. 

 "One who never turned his back, but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break; Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph; Held, we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep--to wake. " --ROBERT BROWNING. 

Revised Edition, in Large Part Rewritten

William Blackwood and SonsEdinburgh and LondonMCMXVII

All Rights reserved

 _THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO_ _MY SON CYRIL, _ _AND TO_ _Mrs ALAN BATTEN_ _IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF ALL THAT IT OWES_ _TO HER GENEROUS HELP AND INTEREST. _ _M. D. _

AUTHOR'S NOTE. 

In revising and partially rewriting my novel, 'Captain Desmond, V. C. , ' Ihave been glad to make good the opportunity afforded me of bringing theAftermath nearer to my original conception than it was in its first form. The three short chapters now substituted for the one final scene aretherefore, in essence, no innovation. They represent more or less what Iconceived at the time, but suppressed through fear of making my book toolong; and thereby risked upsetting the balance of sympathy, which I hopethe fresh chapters may tend to restore. 

M. D. 

CONTENTS. 

BOOK I. 

 CHAP. PAGE

 I. JUDGE FOR YOURSELF 3

 II. I WANT TO BE FIRST 13

 III. THE BIG CHAPS 21

 IV. ESPECIALLY WOMEN 30

 V. AN EXPURGATED EDITION 39

 VI. GENIUS OF CHARACTER 46

 VII. BRIGHT EYES OF DANGER 55

 VIII. STICK TO THE FRONTIER 66

 IX. WE'LL JUST FORGET 80

 X. A SQUARE BARGAIN 94

 XI. YOU DON'T KNOW DESMOND 108

 XII. NOW IT'S DIFFERENT 119

 XIII. IT ISN'T FAIR 129

 XIV. I SIMPLY INSIST 140

 XV. GOOD ENOUGH, ISN'T IT? 151

 XVI. SIGNED AND SEALED 156

 BOOK II. 

 XVII. YOU WANT TO GO! 167

 XVIII. LOVE THAT IS LIFE! 177

 XIX. IT'S NOT MAJOR WYNDHAM 182

 XX. THE DEVIL'S PECULIARITY? 196

 XXI. I AM YOURS 207

 XXII. THE CHEAPER MAN 213

 XXIII. YOU GO ALONE 228

 XXIV. I WANT LADYBIRD 234

 XXV. THE MOONLIGHT SONATA 242

 XXVI. STAND TO YOUR GUNS 249

 XXVII. THE EXECRABLE UNKNOWN 259

 XXVIII. YOU SHALL NOT--! 265

 XXIX. THE UTTERMOST FARTHING 274

 XXX. SHE SHALL UNDERSTAND 285

 XXXI. THE LOSS OF ALL 298

 XXXII. EVEN TO THE UTMOST 303

 XXXIII. THE ONE BIG THING 313

 XXXIV. C'ÉTAIT MA VIE 319

 AFTERMATH 323

BOOK I. 

 "If we impinge, never so lightly, on the life of a fellow-mortal, the touch of our personality, like the ripple of a stone cast into a pond, widens and widens, in unending circles, through the æons, till the far-off gods themselves cannot tell where action ceases. "--KIPLING. 

Captain Desmond, V. C. 

CHAPTER I. 

JUDGE FOR YOURSELF. 

 "Do we move ourselves, or are moved by an Unseen Hand at a game?"--TENNYSON. 

Honor Meredith folded her arms upon the window-ledge of the carriageand looked out into the night: a night of strange, unearthly beauty. 

The full moon hung low in the west like a lamp. A chequered mantle oflight and shadow lay over the mountain-barrier of India'snorth-western frontier, and over the desolate levels through which thetrain, with its solitary English passenger, sauntered at the rate ofseven miles an hour. Even this degree of speed was clearly somethingof an achievement, attainable only by incessant halting to takebreath--for ten or fifteen minutes--at embryo stations: a platform, ashelter, and a few unhappy-looking out-buildings set down in a land ofdeath and silence--a profitless desert, hard as the nether millstoneand unfruitful as the grave. 

During these pauses the fret and jar of the labouring train gave placeto a babel of voices--shouting, expostulating, denunciating in everyconceivable key. For the third-class passenger in the East is nothingif not vociferous, and the itch of travel has penetrated even to theseoutskirts of empire. 

Sleep, except in broken snatches, was a blessing past praying for, and as the moon swung downward to the hills, Honor Meredith hadsettled herself at the open window, to watch the lifeless wastes glidesilently past, and await the coming of dawn. 

She had been journeying thus, with only moon and stars, and unfamiliarscenes of earth for company, since eight o'clock; and morning was nearat hand. The informal civilisation of Rawal Pindi lay fifty milesbehind her; and five miles ahead lay Kushalghur, a handful ofbuildings on the south bank of the Indus, where the narrow line ofrailway came abruptly to an end. Beyond the Indus a lone widecart-road stretched, through thirty miles of boulder-strewn desert, tothe little frontier station of Kohat. 

For six years it had been Honor's dream to cross the Indus and joinher favourite brother, the second-in-command of a Punjab cavalryregiment; to come into touch with an India other than thelight-hearted India of luxury and smooth sailing, which she hadenjoyed as only daughter of General Sir John Meredith, K. C. B. , andnow, with the completion of her father's term of service, her dreamhad become an almost incredible reality. 

It was not without secret qualms of heart and conscience that theGeneral had yielded to her wish. For frontier life in those earliertimes still preserved its distinctive flavour of isolation and hazard, which has been the making of its men, and the making or marring of itswomen; and which the northward trend of the "fire-carriage" has almostconverted into a thing of the past. But sympathy with her mettlesomespirit, which was of his own bestowing, had outweighed Sir John'sanxiety. On the eve of sailing he had despatched her with his blessingand, by way of practical accessory, a handsome revolver, which he hadtaught her to use as accurately as a man. 

And now, while she sat alone in the mellow moonlight of early morning, within a few miles of the greatest river of the Punjab, not even thepain of recent parting could lessen the thrill of independence andadventure, that quickened her pulses, and stirred the deep waters ofher soul. 

At five-and-twenty this girl still remained heart-whole, as atnineteen: still looked confidently forward to the best that life hasto give. For, despite a strong practical strain in her nature, she wasan idealist at the core. She could not understand that temper of mindwhich sets out to buy a gold watch, and declines upon a silver onebecause the other is not instantly attainable. She would have the bestor none: and, with the enviable assurance of youth, she never doubtedbut that the best would be forthcoming in good time. 

For this cause, no doubt, she had failed to make the brilliant matchtacitly expected of her by a large circle of friends ever since herarrival in the country. None the less, she had gone cheerfully on herway, untrammelled by criticism, quite unaware of failure, andeternally interested in the manifold drama of Indian and Anglo-Indianlife. Her father and four soldier brothers had set her standard ofmanhood, and had set it high; and although in the past eight yearsmany men had been passionately convinced of their ability to satisfyher needs of heart and brain, not one among them had succeeded inconvincing Sir John Meredith's clear-sighted daughter. 

But thought of all these things was far from her as she watched themoon dip to the jagged peaks that shouldered the stars along thewestern horizon. The present held her; the future beckoned with anencouraging finger; and she had no quarrel with the past. 

 * * * * *

By now the moon's last rim formed a golden sickle behind a bluntshoulder of rock; while over the eastward levels the topaz-yellow ofan Indian dawn rushed at one stride to the zenith of heaven. In theclear light the girl's beauty took on a new distinctness, a new livingcharm. The upward-sweeping mass of her hair showed the softness ofbronze, save where the sun burnished it to copper. Breadth of brow, and the strong moulding of her nose and chin, suggested powers ratherbefitting a man than a woman. But in the eyes and lips the womantriumphed--eyes blue-grey under very straight brows, and lips thateven in repose preserved a rebellious tendency to lift at the corners. From her father, and a long line of fighting ancestors, Honor hadgotten the large build of a large nature; the notable lift of herhead; and the hot blood, coupled with endurance, that stamps the racecurrent coin across the world. 

A jolt of unusual violence, flinging her against the carriage door, announced conclusively her arrival at the last of the embryo stations, and straightway the stillness of dawn was affronted by a riot of lifeand sound. Men, women, and children, cooking-pots and bundles, overflowed on to the sunlit platform; and through their midst, with adignified aloofness that only flowers to perfection in the East, HonorMeredith's tall _chuprassee_[1] made his way to her carriage window. Beside him, in a scarlet coat over full white skirts, cowered thedistressed figure of an old ayah, who for twenty years had been apillar of the household of Meredith. 

[1] Government servant. 

"Hai, hai, Miss Sahib!" she broke out, lifting wrinkled hands inprotest. "How was it possible to sleep in such a night of strangenoises, and of many devils let loose; the rail _gharri_[2] itselfbeing the worst devil of them all! Behold, your Honour hath brought usto an evil country, without water and without food. A country ofmurderers and barefaced women. Not once, since the leaving of Pindi, have I dared close an eyelid lest some unknown evil befall me. "

[2] Carriage. 

A statement which set her companion smiling under the shelter of hismoustache and beard, at thought of the many times he had saved herslumbering form from collision against the woodwork of the train. But, with the courtesy of his kind, he forebore to discomfort her bymention of such trifling details. 

"It is necessary to cross the river on foot, Miss Sahib, " he said: andwithout more ado Honor fared forth into the untempered sunlight, closely followed by her two attendants, and a string of half-nakedcoolies bearing her luggage. 

From the dreary little terminus a cart-track sloped to the river, which at this point sweeps southward with a strong rush of water, itssteep banks forming a plateau on either hand. The narrow gorge wasspanned by a rough bridge of boats lashed firmly together; and on thefarther side Honor found a lone dak bungalow, its homely dovecot andwheeling pigeons striking a friendly note amid the callousness of thesurrounding country. 

An armed orderly, who had been taking his ease in the verandah, sprangsmartly to his feet and saluted; and behind him, on the threshold, ared-bearded khansamah, who might have walked straight out of an OldTestament picture-book, proffered obsequious welcome to the _MajorSahib's Miss_. Honor bestowed a glance of approval upon her newprotector, whose natural endowments were enhanced by the picturesqueuniform of the Punjab Cavalry. A khaki tunic, reaching almost to hisknees, was relieved by heavy steel shoulder-chains and a broadkummerband of red and blue. These colours were repeated in the peakedcap and voluminous turban, while over the kummerband was buckled thesevere leathern sword-belt of the West. 

The man held out a letter; and Honor, summarily dismissing thekhansamah, --who thrust himself upon her notice with the insistentmeekness of his kind, --passed on into the one sitting-room, with itsbare table and half-dozen dilapidated chairs. Balancing herself on theformer, she broke the seal with impatient fingers, for the sight ofher brother's handwriting gladdened her like a hand-clasp acrossthirty miles of space. 

Then she started, and all the light went out of her eyes. 

 "DEAREST GIRL" (she read), -- "Just a line to save you from a shock at sight of me. The old trouble--Peshawar fever. Mackay has run me to earth at last and insisted on a Board. I'm afraid it's a case of a year's sick leave at home, bad luck to it. But I see no reason to throw up our fine plan altogether. If you would like to wait out here for me, the Desmonds will gladly give you a home. He made the offer at once, and I know I couldn't leave you in better hands. Full details when we meet. It's a hard blow for us both; but you have grit enough for two, and here's a chance to prove it. Hurry up that tonga-driver. --Your loving, JOHN. "

Honor read the short letter through twice, then, with less ofelasticity in her step, sought refreshment of mind and body in the hotwater awaiting her in the next room. 

An hour later the tonga was well on its way, speeding at a hand-gallopover the dead level of road, with never an incident of shade, or aspear-point of green, to soften the forbidding face of it; with nevera sound to shatter the sunlit stillness, save the three-fold sound oftheir going--the clatter of hoofs, the clank and rattle of thetonga-bar rising and falling to a tune of its own making, and thebrazen-throated twang of the horn, which the tonga-drivers of UpperIndia have elevated to a fine art. 

And on either hand, to the utmost limit of vision, lay the emptinessof the desert, bounded by unfriendly hills. A pitiless country, wherethe line of duty smites the eye at every turn; the line of beautybeing conspicuous only by its absence. A country that straightens theback, and strings up nerve and muscle; where men learn to endurehardness, and carry their lives in their hands with cheerfulunconcern, expecting and receiving small credit for either from thosewhose safety they ensure, and who know little, and care less, aboutmatters so scantly relevant to their immediate comfort or concern. 

Honor had elected to sit in front by the strapping Pathan driver;while Parbutti, ayah, her flow of speech frozen at its source by thenear neighbourhood of a sword and loaded carbine, put as much spacebetween the orderly and her own small person as the narrow back-seatof the tonga would permit. 

The English girl's eyes had in them now less of dreaminess, and moreof thought. The abrupt change in her outlook brought Evelyn Desmond'spretty, effective figure to the forefront of her mind. For tenyears, --the period of Honor's education in England, --the two girls hadlived and learned together as sisters; and, despite natures radicallyopposed, a very real love had sprung up between them. They had notmet, however, since Evelyn Dacre's somewhat hasty marriage to CaptainDesmond, V. C. , a brother officer of John Meredith; a soldier of nolittle promise and distinction, and a true frontiersman, both byheritage and inclination, since every Desmond who came to India wentstraight to the Border as a matter of course. Honor knew the man byhearsay only, but she knew every inch of her friend's character, andthe knowledge gave her food for much interested speculation. There arefew things more puzzling than the marriages of our friends, unless itbe our own. 

But after the first stoppage to change horses, Honor flung meditationto the winds, and turned her eyes and mind upon the life of the road. For, as day took completer possession of the heavens, it becameevident that life, of a leisurely, intermittent sort, flourished evenupon this highway to the other end of nowhere. 

A line of camels, strung together like a grotesque living necklace, sauntered past, led by a loose-robed Pathan, as supercilious of aspectas the shuffling brutes who bobbed and gurgled in his wake. Or itmight be a group of bullock-carts going down to Kushalghur, to meetconsignments of stores and all the minor necessaries of life, --for inthose days Kohat was innocent of shops. At rare intervals, colourlessmud hamlets--each with its warlike watch-tower--huddled close to theroad as if for company and protection. Here the monotonous round oflife was already astir. Women of a remarkable height and grace, indark-blue draperies peculiar to the Frontier, went about their workwith superb movement of untrammelled limbs, and groups of shiny bronzebabies shrilled to the heartsome notes of the tonga-horn. There were alsowhitewashed police _chokhis_, [3] where blue-coated, yellow-trouseredpolicemen squatted, and smoked, and spat, in glorious idleness, from dawnto dusk, and exchanged full-flavoured compliments with the Pathan driverin passing. For the rest there was always the passionless serenity of thedesert, with its crop of thriftless thorn-bushes, whose berries showedlike blood-drops pricked from the hard heart of the land; and beyond thedesert, looming steadily nearer with every mile of progress, the ruggedmajesty of the hills. 

[3] Police stations. 

As the third hour of their journeying drew to an end, a sudden visionof green, like an emerald dropped on the drab face of the plain, brought a flush to Honor's cheeks, a light into her eyes. 

"It is Kohat, Miss Sahib, " the driver announced with a comprehensivewave of his hand. 

A breath of ice-cool air came to her from an open watercourse at theroadside, and the fragrance of a hundred roses from the one beautifulgarden in the station that surrounded the Deputy-Commissioner's house. They passed for a while between overarching trees, but the glimpse ofEden was short-lived. At the avenue's end they came abruptly into thecantonment itself: stony, barren, unlovely, the dead level broken hereand there by rounded hummocks unworthy to be called hills. On theeast, behind a protective mud-wall, lay the native city; on the northand west, the bungalows of the little garrison--flat-roofed, square-shouldered buildings, with lizard-haunted slits of windowsfifteen feet above the ground, set in the midst of bare, pebble-strewncompounds; though here and there some fortunate boasted athirsty-looking tree, or a handful of rose-bushes blooming bravely inthis, the Indian month of roses. 

At the foot of the highest hummock, crowned with buildings of uniformugliness, the tonga-driver drew rein and indicated a steep pathway. 

"The bungalow of the Major Sahib is above, " he said, "and the Presencemust needs walk. "

The Presence did more than walk. In the verandah at the path's end atall figure stood awaiting her; and before Parbutti and the orderlyhad collected her belongings, she was in John Meredith's arms. 

The remarkable likeness between the two was very apparent as theystood together thus; though the man's face was marred by ill-health, and by the distressing prominence of his eye-bones and strongly-markedjaw. He led her into the dining-room with more of lover-like thanbrother-like tenderness; for despite his forty years no woman had yetdethroned this beautiful sister of his from the foremost place in hisheart. 

He set her down at the breakfast-table, himself poured out her tea, and dismissed the kitmutgar as soon as might be, Honor watching himthe while with troubled solicitude in her eyes. 

"It's crushing, John!" she said at length. "And you do look horriblyill. "

"Well, my dear girl, is it likely I'd desert the regiment, and forfeita year of your good company unless devils within were prettyimperative?"

She smiled and shook her head. 

"But you ought to have told us about it sooner, . . . Me, at any rate. When did you know the decision of the Board?"

"Yesterday. Desmond was with me at the time. I didn't write beforethat about things being uncertain, for fear the good old man shouldtake fright and whisk you off home. And I thought that even if Icouldn't square the Board, you'd find waiting out here for me thelesser evil. "

"Very much the lesser evil. What a barbarian people at home wouldthink me if they knew it! And you must go, . . . When?"

"In four or five days; as soon as my leave is sanctioned. "

"And, naturally, I stay here with you till then. "

"Well, . . . Partially. But when your heavy luggage came yesterday, itseemed simpler to send it straight to the Desmonds, and that youshould settle in and sleep over there. We're all sitting in oneanother's pockets here, and you and I can be together all day, neverfear. Will that arrangement suit your Royal Highness?"

"My Royal Highness is as wax in your hands, " she answered, with aswift softening of face and voice. "I won't start being autocratictill I get you back again. Only--sit down at once, please. You don'tlook fit to stand. "

He obeyed with unconcealed willingness, at the same time handing her anote. 

"It is from Mrs Desmond. She is expecting you over there thisafternoon. "

Honor looked mutinous. 

"But I want to stay with you. I shall see plenty of Evelyn later. "

"Still, I think we must spare her an hour to-day. The little woman'skeen to see you, and I'd like Desmond to feel that we appreciate hisprompt kindness. He'll be down at the Lines all the afternoon. It'sour day for tent-pegging. You might ride down with Mrs Desmond, andbring me news of what my men are doing. I'm mad at not being able tobe there myself. "

She deserted her breakfast, and knelt down beside him. 

"Dear man! Of course I'll go and find out all about it from CaptainDesmond. I needn't stay long to do that. "

"No. You can say you want to get back to me. Desmond will understand. "

"He's rather a fine fellow, isn't he?"

"One of the best I know. The last man who ought to be hampered by awoman. "

"I might take that as a dismissal! How about yourself!"

"Ah, that's quite another matter. " And he laid a hand upon the softabundance of her hair. "Mine is only a two years' contract. And, inany case, _I_ would never allow myself to be handicapped by awoman--not even by you. But I don't feel so certain about Desmond. "

"Poor little Evelyn! Do you mean, . . . Is there any question of herreally hampering him, . . . Seriously?"

Meredith hesitated. A half-smile hovered in his tired eyes. 

"As I'm strongly against the whole affair, and have hardly forgivenhim yet for marrying at all, it is fairer for me to say nothing abouther one way or the other. You must judge for yourself. "

CHAPTER II. 

I WANT TO BE FIRST. 

 "A breath of light, a pulse of tender fire, Too dear for doubt, too driftless for desire. " --SWINBURNE. 

Sixteen months earlier, Evelyn Dacre--having come out to India with aparty of tourist friends--had chanced to spend Christmas week atLahore: a week which brings half the Punjab together for purposes offestivity and sport. Here, by some mysterious process, which noscience will ever be able to fathom or explain, she had cast aninstantaneous and unaccountable spell over a man of rare singleness ofpurpose, whose heart was set to court action, danger, hardship inevery conceivable form: a man for whom a girl-wife fresh out from"Home" seemed as hazardous an investment as could well be imagined. 

But with all his fine qualities of head and heart, Theo Desmond waslittle given to cool deliberation in the critical moments of life. This chance-met girl, fragile as a flower and delicately tinted as apiece of porcelain, full of enthusiasm for her new surroundings and ofa delight half shy, half spontaneous in the companionship of a man sounlike the _blasé_, self-centred youths of her limited experience, had, for the time being, swept him off his feet. And men are apt to dounaccountable things during those hot-headed moments when the feet areactually off the ground. 

A moonlight picnic; an hour of isolated wandering in a garden oftombs; the witchery of the moment; the word too much; the glance thatlingered to a look;--and the irrevocable was upon them. Desmond hadreturned to the Frontier, to a circle of silently amazed brotherofficers; and in less than three months from their time of meeting thetwo had become man and wife. 

Honor, having been away in England at the time, had had but asecond-hand hearing of the whole affair; and for all the keenness ofher present disappointment, a natural spark of interest was aroused inher at the prospect of spending a year with this unequally yokedhusband and wife. 

She found her friend awaiting her in the verandah: a mere slip ofwomanhood, in a grey habit. 

"Oh, _there_ you are at last, Honor!" she cried eagerly. "It's grandto see you again! I'm dreadfully sorry about Major Meredith--I am, truly. But it's just lovely getting you on a long visit like this. Come in and have tea before we start. "

And taking possession of the girl with both hands, she led her intothe house, talking ceaselessly as she went. 

"It's really very charming of you two to be so pleased to have me, "Honor said quietly, as she settled herself, nothing loth, in thespaciousness of Captain Desmond's favourite chair. Then, because herhead still hummed with the clatter of travel, she fell silent;following with her eyes the movements of this graceful girl-wife, whose engaging air of frankness and simplicity was discounted, attimes, by an odd lack of both dimly shadowed in the blue-green eyes. 

Evelyn Desmond's eyes were, not without reason, her dearest bit ofvanity. The tint of the clear iris suggested sea shallows on a day oflight cloud--more green than blue; yet with just enough of the sky'sown colour to lend the charm of a constant variability, thatharmonised admirably with her iridescent changes of mood. 

Honor Meredith, who understood her curious mingling of charm andunsatisfactoriness better than any one else in the world, noted herafresh, inwardly and outwardly, with the result that she desired morethan ever to know the man who had been hardy enough to place hislife's happiness in the hollow of Evelyn's clinging, incompetenthands. 

At this juncture Mrs Desmond sank on to a low stool beside her, sether own cup and plate unceremoniously on the carpet, and laid acaressing hand upon her knee. 

"It _does_ feel like old times, " she said. "And I so badly want toshow you to Theo. "

The young simplicity of the words brought a very soft light intoHonor's eyes. 

"I promised John I would go down just in order to be 'shown to Theo, '"she answered smiling. "But you must put off showing me to the resttill another day. I'm a little tired: and I can't keep my mind offJohn for very long just now. "

"You still love him better than any one in the world, then?"

"Isn't the fact of my coming here to stay two years sufficient proofof that?"

"The very greatest proof imaginable!" Mrs Desmond flung out her handswith a pretty, characteristic gesture. "I'm only wondering if you knowwhat you've let yourself in for? I thought India was a lovely placed_till_ I came here. Theo warned me it wouldn't be a bit like Pindi orLahore. But that didn't seem to matter, so long as I had him. Only Iam so seldom _able_ to have him! The regiment swamps _every_thing. Themen are always in uniform, and always at it; and the aggravating partis that they actually like that better than anything. "

Honor laid her hand over the one that rested on her knee. She saw bothsides of the picture with equal vividness. 

"What a dire calamity!" she said gently. "I am afraid that on theFrontier, if a man is keen, his wife is bound to stand second; and ifonly she will accept the fact, it must surely be happier for both inthe long-run. "

Mrs Desmond looked up at her with pathetic eyes. 

"But I don't _want_ to accept the fact. I want to be first always: andI ought to be. It's easy enough for _you_ to talk, because you haven'ta notion how nice Theo is! When you've married a man like that, andburied yourself in a howling wilderness because of him, he ought tobelong more to you than to his sacred Frontier Force! But Theo seemsto be the private property of half the regiment! There's his chieffriend Major Wyndham, and the Boy, his subaltern, he thinks the worldof them; and they seem to live in the house. Then there's a tiresomeold Ressaldar always coming over to do Persian with him for his HigherProficiency exam; and I don't find it half amusing to be one of amixed crowd like that!"

Her whimsical air of woe disarmed all save the mildest disapproval. Itwas one of Evelyn Desmond's unfair advantages that she always didmanage to disarm disapproval, even in her least admirable moments; andthe smile deepened in Honor's eyes. 

"It seems to me, Evelyn, " she said quietly, "that your husband must bea very large-hearted man. "

"Why, of course! That's just the trouble, . . . Don't you see?"

"Yes, I do see; and I am woman enough to sympathise. But it will doyou no harm, dear, to be one of a crowd, and to get out of the glasscase you have been kept under ever since you were born. Show me thiswonderful Theo now. People's faces tell me a great deal, you know; andyou have roused my curiosity. "

"Look round and see if you can recognise him, " was the laughinganswer. 

There were some half-dozen photographs of men, in uniform and out ofit, set about the incongruous room; but the girl's eyes were speedilycaught and riveted by a full-length presentment of a Punjabcavalryman, which stood, solitary and conspicuous, on the uprightpiano. She rose and went quickly towards it. 

"I choose here, " she said decisively. "Am I right?" And seeing thatEvelyn nodded, she went on: "What a very remarkable picture. Soextraordinarily alive! One can see how he hates standing still insidethat frame!"

Then she fell into a long silence: for she was a practised observer ofmen and things, and the face before her compelled attention. Thekeynote of the whole was vigour: not mere impetuosity, though that waspresent also, but a sustained, indwelling vigour, that keeps endeavourbright. 

Evelyn stood watching her in no little wonderment, awaiting furthercomment. 

"Don't you like him?" she asked at length. 

"Decidedly; if that picture does him justice. "

"Well, come on down to the tent-pegging, and find out for yourself. "

 * * * * *

From the bungalows crowning the mound a bare road sloped northward tothe cavalry lines. Along it the two women rode at a foot's pace; forEvelyn still had much to say, and the girl was a notable listener. Buteven so the parade-ground below them came rapidly into view--a levelexpanse of brown earth, hard as a usurer's heart, varied only by linesof featureless mud huts, and backed by the dragon's teeth of thehills, brown also, save where sharply defined shadows broke theprevailing monotony of hue. 

But the foreground of this toneless setting vibrated with life, movement, colour. 

Groups of native troopers, in blue belted tunics and turbans of blueand gold, occupied the central space. English officers, in undressuniform, rode to and fro among them, criticising, encouraging, andgenerally directing the course of events. In an open _shamianah_, [4]eight or ten men divided their attention between a table at the backof the tent and the four ladies of the station, who perforce convertedmilitary events into those friendly gatherings which are the mainstayof Anglo-Indian life. Native onlookers, of all races and ranks, formeda mosaic border to the central theme; and a jumble of rollicking Irishairs from the Sikh band set Honor's foot tapping the air with briskprecision. 

[4] Marquee. 

"Wait, Evelyn, " she said. "I would like to see those four Pathans takethe pegs from here. One gets the effect better from rising ground. "

And Evelyn, whose knowledge of effects was limited to hats andhairdressing, drew rein obediently, her eyes probing the crowd for theone figure, to whom the rest were mere accessories, and rathertroublesome accessories at that. 

But Honor's eyes and mind were set upon the four Pathans drawn up inline at the starting-point, the sunlight flashing from theirlance-heads, and from every link of eight steel shoulder-chains; theirfaces inscrutable; their eyes points of living fire. A pathway ofstraw softened the ground for galloping, and in the midst of it fourpegs awaited the furious onset. 

The horses, all eagerness to be off, tossed impatient heads, strainingimpotently at the tightened rein. On a given word they sprang forwardwith a thundering rush of hoofs, swooping down upon the pegs atlightning speed, the men's faces level with the flying manes, theirlance-heads skimming the ground. Followed the stirring moment ofimpact, the long-drawn shout, steadily rising to a yell of triumph, asfour lances whirled aloft, each bearing the coveted morsel of woodspiked through the centre. 

The girl drew a deep breath, and her face glowed with that paganexultation in bodily strength and prowess, which all the refiningfires of civilisation will never burn out of the human heart. But asshe turned with praise on her lips, Evelyn leaned eagerly towards her. 

"Theo has seen us. He is coming up here. Look!"

And Honor looked accordingly. 

A man on a superb bay "waler" had detached himself from the crowd, andwas coming towards them at a swinging trot, sitting the horse asthough he were part of the animal. Honor realised at a glance thathere was that stimulating thing, a positive personality alive to thefinger-tips, realised also with what success the photographer hadcaught and rendered the living essence of the man. Desmond was dark ashis wife was fair, though a hint of chestnut in his moustache, and apeculiar light in the hazel-grey eyes, suggested fire not far belowthe surface. The whole face was stamped with that sovereign quality ofsympathy which, even in a world of failure, never fails of its reward. 

His wife effected an introduction in her own ingenuous fashion. "There, Theo, . . . This is Honor, that you have heard so much about. "

Desmond saluted. 

"I'm uncommonly glad to meet you, Miss Meredith, " he said; but beforeHonor could reply Evelyn made haste to interpose. 

"Theo, . . . I can't have you calling her Miss Meredith! She's justlike my sister, and you must simply be Honor and Theo, . . . D'you see?"

Desmond's eyes showed a flicker of amusement. 

"Perhaps you'll allow us to shake hands first, " he suggested, and thefriendliness of his grasp dispelled the sense of isolation thatweighed upon the girl at thought of her brother's departure. 

"How did that last performance strike you? Pretty good, wasn't it?"

"Splendid. They went by like a wall. Such magnificent riding. "

"They were your brother's men. Wish he could have seen them. He's sotremendously keen. They've tied with my Sikhs, so there'll be anexciting finish. Won't you come down and see it out?"

"I think not, thanks, if it doesn't seem unfriendly. I really onlycame because John and Evelyn wished it, just to make your acquaintanceand see how things were going, and I would honestly like to gostraight back to him now, . . . If I may. He said you would understand. "

"He was right. I'll see you to the gate myself. Go on down to the_shamianah_, Ladybird, the Boy is looking out for you. I'll not begone long. "

And with a rebellious crumpling of her forehead Evelyn obeyed. 

"I am afraid the Major's news must have been rather a shock to you, Miss Meredith, " Desmond went on, as their horses mounted the slope. "But we've all been expecting it this long while. He takes too littleleave and steadily overworks himself, . . . That's the truth. But then, . . . You should see what he's done for the regiment in the last tenyears!"

The spark of enthusiasm in the man's tone struck an answering sparkfrom his companion. 

"That's the true way to look at it, " she declared warmly. "So manypeople simply call him a fool. It's the fashion to sneer at enthusiasmin these days. "

"We don't sneer at it in this part of the world, " Desmond replied withquiet emphasis. "I see now why the Major said I should find you theright sort for the Frontier and a help to . . . My Evelyn. I havetransplanted her to a very rough soil, I only hope she's fit to standit. "

"_I_ think so. She has been too carefully sheltered till now; and it'sjust a matter of adapting herself to fresh conditions. You may counton me to do all I can for her while I am here. "

"Your name is sufficient guarantee for that!" he answered simply; andthe implied compliment to her brother quickened every pulse in herbody. 

They parted at Major Meredith's gate, Desmond promising to report theresult of the final contest on his way home; and the girl sat watchinghim thoughtfully till a dip in the road hid him from view. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE BIG CHAPS. 

 "Love that is loud or light in all men's ears, * * * * * That binds on all men's feet, or chains, or wings. " --SWINBURNE. 

Honor woke early, springing from dreamless sleep to alert wakefulness, as is the way of vivid natures, and the first sight that greeted herwas the huddled form of Parbutti, her chin between her knees, her darkeyes bright and watchful. 

Honor's smile was answered by a flash of light across the old woman'sface as she arose and salaamed to the ground. 

"Behold, while the Miss Sahib slept like a little child, I have laidout the riding-gear as of custom, and now I go to prepare the_terail_[5] for _chota hazri_. [6] They are not ill folk in thiscompound, Hazúr; and there goes but one word among them, that ourSahib is a diamond fit for a king's turban, understanding the heart ofblack men, giving no shame words, neither smiting with his foot as domany officer-sahibs. It is well for us, who come strangers to acountry of murderers, to be of the household of such a Sahib. Nay, then, child of my heart, I will cease from idle talk, . . . It is anorder. Doth not my pearl and the light of my life await her chotahazri?"

[5] Tray. 

[6] Small breakfast. 

And the old woman, whose garrulity was as dust in the balance whenweighed against twenty years of faithful service, shuffled out of theroom. 

Half an hour later Honor was in the saddle--a gallant figure inwell-cut brown habit and white helmet, the sunlight finding out gleamsof bronze in her abundant hair, while all about her shone theuncompromising blue and gold of a mid-March morning--fresh withoutsharpness, and fragrant with the ethereal fragrance of dawn. 

She followed the downward road, noting a landmark here and there forguidance. Her delight was in the rhythm of movement; in the waitingstillness of earth and sky; the momentous pause between all that hasbeen, and all that shall be, which gives a dramatic sense ofresponsibility to the day's first hours. 

Her eyes rejoiced in the least detail of form and light and colour; inthe signs of reviving life; the alert ubiquitous sentries, the sharpalternations of sun and shadow on hills naked and unpromising as theharsh face of poverty; hills that for all time have had but one giftfor the giving--"not peace, but a sword. " From the cavalry Linesbehind her the trumpet call to "stables" set the blood stirring in herveins, with that peculiar thrill which no other instrument canproduce. The very spirit of battle breathes in the sound. 

An expectant interest glowed within her like a star. It was her greatgood-fortune to be blessed with that poetic understanding which isneither deceived by custom nor dulled by repetition, which sees allthings--even the most familiar--virginally fresh, as on the morning ofcreation. 

Her random wanderings brought her to a stretch of un-metalled road, and at the road's edge, some few hundred yards away a man on a whitehorse had drawn rein at sight of her. Instantly her thought alightedon Evelyn's husband, but nearer view revealed a different type ofman--taller, and equally erect, yet lacking in the suggestion of forceand virility that emanated from Captain Desmond, even in repose. Witha rapidity born of much practice Honor took stock of him, from hishelmet to his boots, as he sat awaiting her, with a coolness which atonce amused her and piqued her interest. A slim square chin, indeterminate colouring, and eyes of a remarkable thoughtfulness undervery level brows, went to make up a satisfying, if not very strikingwhole. 

"A modest, understanding sort of man, " was Honor's mental verdict. "Astudent every inch of him. I wonder how in the world he comes to be asoldier. "

By this time Dilkusha had been drawn up, and the man who ought not tohave been a soldier was saluting her with a singularly charming smile, that began in the eyes, and broke up the gravity of the face assunshine breaks up a cloud. 

"You must be Miss Meredith, " he said. "One doesn't meet a new facehaphazard in Kohat, and . . . You are wonderfully like your brother. Iam Major Wyndham. You may have heard the name?"

"Why, . . . Yes. You are Captain Desmond's friend. "

"You couldn't give a completer description of me! I hear you are toput up with them till Meredith comes back. "

"Yes. They have been quite charming about it, and I am so glad not tobe driven away from the Frontier at once. I have been longing to getto it for years. "

He watched her while she spoke, his quietly observant eyes missing nodetail of her face. 

"And now you have got here, I wonder how it will strike you after theimposing official circles of Simla and Lahore. You'll find none of the'beer and skittles' of the country up here. But the Frontier has itsown fascination all the same; especially when a man has the spirit ofit in his blood. Desmond, for instance, wouldn't give a brass farthingfor life out of sight of those hard-featured hills. Do you know himand his wife at all?"

"I never saw him till yesterday, except in the distance at polomatches. But I have known her since she was quite a child. "

"And I have known Desmond since he was thirteen. Rather odd! You can'tfail to be good friends with _him_ Miss Meredith. "

"Are you as rabid as my brother and the Colonel because the poor manhas dared to marry?" she asked, with an incurable directness which tosome natures was a stumbling-block, and to others her chiefest charm. "It seems to be a part of the regimental creed. "

"It is. And I subscribe to it . . . _as_ a creed. But my belief has notyet been tried in the fire. Desmond is the keenest soldier I know; yethe has seen fit to marry. I have an immense faith in him, and, whatever others may think, I prefer to reserve my judgment. "

"If only a few more of us had the wisdom to do that, " the girl saidsoftly. "How much easier life would be for every one!"

Wyndham smiled. 

"I have a notion that life isn't meant to be easy, " he said. "And thefact remains that Meredith and the Colonel are right in principle. Fewmen are strong enough to stand the strain of being pulled two ways atonce, and marriage is bound to be a grave risk for a man whose heartis set on soldiering--Frontier soldiering above all. But then Desmondloves a risk better than anything else in life. "

And with an abrupt laugh he dismissed the subject. 

"I must be going on now, " he added. "But no doubt we shall meet againsoon. I am constantly over at the bungalow. "

And, saluting her again, he trotted leisurely northward to the cavalryLines. 

His thoughts as he went hovered about the girl. The mere picture sheleft upon his brain was not one to be lightly set aside by a man withan ardent eye for the beautiful, and a spirit swift to discern thosehidden elements which gave to Honor Meredith's beauty its distinctivequality and charm. 

Some men are born with a genius for looking on at life, a form ofgenius not to be despised. They are of the type from which greatnaturalists, great philosophers are made; men quick to perceive, slowto assert; men whose large patience rests upon freedom from the fretof personal desire. Of such was Paul Wyndham, and in his accepted rôleof onlooker he fell to pondering upon the new element in his ownimmediate drama. 

If only Desmond had chosen for his helpmate such a girl as MissMeredith, how different might have been the regiment's feelings inregard to the unwelcome fact of his marriage. Yet Wyndham was aware ofan instant recoil from the idea, aware that he personally preferredmatters as they stood. With which conclusion he spurred his horse toa canter, as though he could thus outrun the quickened current ofthought and feeling which this unlooked-for meeting had set stirringin his brain. 

 * * * * *

Meantime Honor Meredith had fallen in with another member of hernewly-adopted family:--a big, raw-boned Irishwoman, who wore hercurling reddish hair cropped short, answered to the name of "Frank, "and dressed chronically in a serviceable skirt and covert coat, and aman's shikarri helmet. When riding, the skirt was replaced by that ofa country-made habit; and in the simplest evening gown thislarge-featured, large-hearted woman stood a martyr confessed. For tenyears she had been the only woman in a regiment of sworn bachelors;had nursed her "brother officers" whenever need arose; had sharedtheir interests, their hardships, their amusements; till, --in thesymbolism of the India she loved, --they and the regiment had become"her father and her mother, her people and her God. "

At sight of Honor she hurried her grey country-bred across the road, and held out a square, loosely-gloved hand. 

"It's bound to be Miss Meredith!" she exclaimed, in a pronouncedbrogue, with a flash of white even teeth--her sole claim to beauty. "It's very welcome you are to Kohat and to the regiment. I'm FrankOlliver, . . . Captain Olliver's wife. I'll turn now and ride back a bitof the way with you. Then we can talk as we go. 'Tis the worst of badluck about your brother. When'll he be leaving?"

"In four or five days. He moves across into our bungalow this morning. It was splendid of Captain Desmond to think of it. "

"Ah, Theo's just made that way!" Then, noting a glimmer of surprise inHonor's face, her wide smile shone out once more. "Is it shocked youare because I speak of him so? Well, . . . Truth is, I'm a privilegedperson since I pulled him through typhoid seven years ago, when byrights he should have died. I'm a rare hand, anyway, at dropping theformalities with them that suit me taste. Though, by the same token, I've taken no liberties with little Mrs Desmond yet. It's queer. Wedon't seem to get much further with her; though we'd be glad enough todo it for Theo's sake. You mustn't mind straight speech from me, MissMeredith. Sure I must have been born with the whole truth in me mouth, for as fast as I open me lips a bit of it slips out. I'll be findingshe's your half-sister, or first cousin, or some such thing!"

Honor laughed outright. It would clearly be impossible to take amissanything that this woman might choose to say. The kindliness of hersoul shone through her plain face, like sunlight through awindow-pane. 

"Her mother is a distant connection of ours, " the girl admittedfrankly. "And we were brought up for a time like sisters. It must havebeen rather a startling change for her from a country town at home toa Border station; and she is very young still, and very devoted to herhusband. "

"She is that, . . . After a queer fashion of her own. But Theo's boundto make his mark on the Frontier, like his father before him; and youknow the proverb, 'He travels the fastest who travels alone. ' Tishardly meself, though, that should be upholding such a saying asthat!"

"No, indeed! No woman ought to uphold it. And, after all, " Honoradded, with a very becoming touch of seriousness, "there may be betterthings for a man than to travel fast. He may learn more by travellingslowly, don't you think? And I should imagine that fast or slow, Captain Desmond is bound to arrive in the end--Now I must turn inhere, and see if John is awake. I'll come and see you when he is gone. I can spare no time for any one else till then!"

Frank Olliver beamed in unqualified approbation. 

"You're just a brick, Miss Meredith, " she declared with ready Irishwarmth. "An' 'twas a fine wind indeed that carried you up to Kohat. "

Honor found her hand enclosed in a grasp as strong as a man's; andthree minutes later Mrs Olliver--whose seat on a horse was as ungainlyas her hand on its mouth was perfect--had become a mere speck on thewide sunlit road. 

Honor entered the hall of her new home pondering many things. Shelaid aside her sun helmet, and in obedience to the promptings of herinterested soul turned her steps toward the drawing-room. 

The door was ajar, and passing between the looped gold and white_phulkaris_, she came to a standstill; for the room was not empty. 

Captain Desmond, in undress uniform, sat at the piano with his backtowards her. His white helmet lay, spike downward, on the carpet; andan Aberdeen terrier--ears rigidly erect, head tilted at a criticalangle--sat close beside it, watching his master with intent eyes, inwhich all the wisdom and sorrow of the ages seemed writ. 

While the girl hesitated on the threshold, Desmond struck a successionof soft chords in a minor key; and she stood spellbound, determined tohear more. Music was no mere accomplishment to her, but a simplenecessity of life; and this man possessed that rare gift of touch, which no master in the world can impart, because it is a produceneither of hand nor brain, but of the player's individual soul. Desmond's fingers were unpractised, but he gave every note its truevalue; and he played slowly, as though composing each chord as itcame, or building it up from memory. It was almost as if he werethinking aloud; and Honor had just decided that she really had nobusiness to be overhearing his thoughts, when an apprehensive "woof"from the Aberdeen brought them suddenly to an end. 

Desmond swung round upon the music-stool, and at sight of her sprangup hastily, a dull flush showing through his tan. 

"Amar Singh told me you were out, " he said, as they shook hands. 

"So I was. I only came in this minute. Won't you let me hear a littlemore, please?"

He shook his head with good-humoured decision. 

"I never play to any one . . . Except Rob, who, being a ScotsCovenanter, disapproves on principle. "

"I call that selfish. It's such a rare treat to hear a man play well. I was delighted when you began. I thought pianos were unheard of uphere. "

"Well, . . . They are hardly a legitimate item in a Frontier officer'sequipment! This one was . . . My mother's, " he laid a hand on theinstrument, as though it had been the shoulder of a friend. "Thefellows sat upon me, I assure you, when I brought it out. Told me itwas worse than a wife. But I've carried my point, . . . Wife and all. And now, perhaps you will reward me, --if I haven't been too ungraciousto deserve it?"

He whisked away his solitary photo, and opened the piano. 

"How do you know I play?" she asked, smiling. She liked hisimpetuosity of movement and speech. 

"I don't know. I guessed it last night. You carry it in your head?"

"Yes; most of it. "

"Real music? The big chaps?"

"Very little else, I'm afraid. "

"No need to put it that way here, Miss Meredith. A sonata, please. ThePathetic. "

She sat down to the piano with a little quickening of the breath andlet her fingers rest a moment on the keyboard. Then--sudden, crisp, and vigorous came the crash of the opening chord. 

Honor Meredith's playing was of a piece with her own nature--vivid, wholesome, impassioned. Her supple fingers drew the heart out of eachwire. Yet she did not find it necessary to sway her body to and fro;but sat square and upright, her head a little lifted, as thoughevolving the music from her soul. 

Desmond listened motionless to the opening bars; then, with a longbreath of satisfaction, moved away, and fell to pacing the room. 

The Scots Covenanter, scenting the joyful possibility of escape, trotted hopefully to heel: but, being a dog of discernment, speedilydetected the fraud, and retired to the hearth-rug in disgust. Thencehe scrutinised his master's irrational method of taking exercise, unfeigned contempt in every line of him, from nose-tip to tail. 

The sonata ended, Honor let her hands fall into her lap, and sat verystill. She had lost all thought of her companion in the joy ofinterpretation; but Desmond's voice at her side recalled her toreality. 

"Thank you, " he said. "I haven't heard it played like _that_ . . . Forfive years. If you can do much of this sort of thing you'll find meinsatiable. We're bound to be good friends at this rate, and I see noreason why we should not comply with Ladybird's request to us. Do you, . . . Honor?"

She started and flushed at the sound of her name; then turned herclear eyes full upon him, the shadow of a smile lifting the rebelliouscorners of her mouth. 

"No reason at all, . . . In good time, Captain Desmond. "

He returned her look with an equal deliberation. 

"Is that a hint to me to keep my distance?"

"No. Only to . . . 'go slow, ' if you'll forgive the expressive slang. It's so much wiser in the long-run. "

"Is it? Bad luck for me. I've never managed it yet, and I doubt if Iever shall. The men of my squadron call me _Bijli-wallah Sahib_, [7]and I didn't earn the name by going slow, . . . Miss Meredith. If I havebeen overbold, your music was to blame. But Ladybird seemed to wishit; and, believe me, I did _not_ mean it to seem like impertinence. Why, there she is herself, bless her; and we're neither of us readyfor breakfast!"

[7] _Bijli_--lightning. 

CHAPTER IV. 

ESPECIALLY WOMEN. 

 "We are fearfully and wonderfully made--especially women. " --THACKERAY. 

The afternoon sunlight flung lengthening shadows across the cavalryLines, where men and native officers alike were housed inmud-plastered huts, innocent of windows; and where life was beginningto stir anew after the noontide tranquillity of the East. 

The eighty horses of each troop stood, picketed with ample lengths ofhead and heel rope, between the lines of huts occupied by theirsowars; while at the permanently open doorways squatted the menthemselves, --Sikhs, Punjabi-Mahomedans, Pathans, each troop composedentirely of one or the other, --smoking, gambling, or putting finaltouches to their toilet in the broad light of day. The native officersalone aspired to a certain degree of privacy. Their huts were detacheda little space from those that guarded the horses; and flimsy walls ofgrass matting, set around them, imparted a suggestion of dignity andaloofness from the common herd. 

The hut of Jemadar Alla Dad Khan, of the Pathan troop of Desmond'ssquadron, boasted just such a matting wall, with a gateless gateway, even as in the bungalows of Sahibs; and withinsides all was veryparticularly set in order. There was an air of festivity in the opencourtyard, on either side of which lay two smoke-grimed rooms, thatmade up the entire house. 

For this was a red-letter day in the eyes of the Jemadar, and ofFatma Bibi, his wife, who had spent a full hour in adorning her plumpperson, and emphasising its charms according to the peculiar methodsof the East. That done, she came forth into the sunlight, attired asbecomes a Mahomedan woman who is expecting a visit of ceremony. Aboveher mysteriously draped trousers she wore a sleeveless coat, adornedwith crescent-shaped pockets and a narrow gold braid. A _sari_[8] ofgold-flecked muslin was draped over her head and shoulders, andbeneath it her heavily oiled hair made a wide triangle of herforehead. The scarlet of betel-nut was upon her lips; the duskiness ofkol shadowed her lashes. Ornaments of glass and silver encircled herneck and arms, and were lavishly festooned around her delicate ears. 

[8] Veil. 

Her entire bearing exhaled satisfied vanity like a perfume, as she satat ease upon a bare _charpoy_[9] watching her husband's preparationsfor the expected guests. 

[9] String-bed. 

He was arrayed in full-dress uniform, even to the two cherished medalson his chest; and his appearance sorted strangely with the peacefulnature of his occupation. 

In the midst of the courtyard he had set forth--not without a secretglow of pride--as exact an imitation of the Sahibs' "afternoon tea" ashis limited knowledge and resources would permit. From the messkhansamah he had borrowed a japanned tea-tray that had seen muchservice, a Rockingham teapot, chipped at the spout, two blue-rimmedcups and saucers, and half a dozen plates, which last he had set roundthe table at precisely equal distances from each other. Two of themwere left empty for the use of his guests, and the other four werepiled with dainties suitable for so high an occasion--sugar-toppedbiscuits (beloved of natives throughout the land), raw pistachio nuts, Cabul grapes and oranges. Then, because the central space had a barrenaspect, the sugar-bowl was promoted to the place of honour for lack ofa more suitable adornment. 

The only two chairs the courtyard contained were set opposite to oneanother, and it was uplifting to reflect that in a short time theywould be occupied by his captain's own Memsahib and the GeneraillySahib's Miss, they having, of their great condescension accepted hishospitality by the gracious favour of the Captain Sahib himself. 

"According to this fashion, are all things made ready, O Fatma Bibi, when there is a tea-drinking in the bungalows of Sahibs, " heannounced, for the enlightenment of his wife, who had seen little ofthe world beyond the four mud walls roofed by her private patch ofsky, and therefore could not be expected to have accurate acquaintancewith the mysterious ways of Sahibs. 

Fatma Bibi acknowledged the information with just such a nod as amother might bestow on a contented child. Despite her limitedexperience of the outer world, she knew herself many degrees wiserthan her husband in matters of far greater moment than the setting outof a few plates and cups after the manner of the Sahib-log, who, inrespect of food and feeding are completely and comprehensively"without sense, " as all India knows. 

"Bear in mind also, " the man went on, sublimely unconscious of hiswife's indulgent attitude, "that the Memsahib knoweth the simplestwords of Hindostani only; but Meredith Miss Sahib will render ourspeech unto her, making all things clear. Behold--they come. "

The sound of hoofs, and the thud of a "dandy" set down outsideconfirmed his words; and not many minutes later the Jemadar usheredtwo Englishwomen into the presence of his wife, --Evelyn, looking moreflower-like than usual, in a many-frilled gown of creamy muslin and abig simple hat to match. 

"By the goodness of the Captain Sahib's heart my house is honouredbeyond deserving, " the man gave them greeting as they crossed thethreshold, while Fatma Bibi's eyes rested in frank curiosity upon theexceeding whiteness and simplicity of the English "Mem, " whoseappearance was so direct a contrast to her own. 

"Without doubt these women of _Belait_[10] possess no true beauty, "she assured herself, with a nod of satisfaction, as she resumed herseat and the new-comers accepted their appointed chairs. 

[10] England. 

It was a strange meal, and Evelyn Desmond was, in all respects, theleast happy of the oddly assorted quartette. She made a conscientious, if not very successful, effort to drink the pale block tea, and eatthe strange mixture of foods pressed upon her by the Jemadar, whowould obviously feel disheartened if his guests did not empty all fourplates at a sitting. Nor was this the least of her troubles. FatmaBibi's valiant attempts at conversation filled her with a bewildermentand discomfort, bordering on irritation. In an impulse of childishwickedness, she caught herself wishing heartily that Theo had neverseen fit to distinguish himself by saving the Jemadar's life. 

She looked enviously across the table at Honor, who, by a fewspontaneous questions, set both at their ease. She spoke of herfather, and the man's face glowed. 

"How should men forget the Generailly Sahib, who have beheld him, asdid we of the _Rissalar_, [11] in war time, leading men and horses andguns through the terrible mountain country beyond Peshawur? We thatserve the British Raj, Miss Sahib, are not men of ready tongue; butour hearts are slow to forget. "

[11] Regiment. 

In proof thereof, the good Jemadar--his tongue effectually unloosedfor the moment--regaled his guests with tale upon tale of bygone raidsand murders and of swift retribution meted out by those watch-dogs ofthe Border, the Punjab Frontier Force; tales set forth with theOriental touch of exaggeration which lent colour to a narrativealready sufficiently inspiring. 

"These things have I seen, Miss Sahib, " he concluded, with a suddendeepening of his voice, "and these things have I done, through thegodlike courage of my Captain Sahib Bahadur"--the man saluted on thewords--"who, in the beginning of my service, when I lay wounded almostto the death, amid bullets that fell like hail, bore me to safety onhis own shoulders, earning thereby the Victoria Cross that he wearetheven now. True talk, Hazúr. Among all the officer Sahibs of Hind, andI have seen more than a few, there be none like unto my Captain Sahibfor courage and greatness of heart. "

At this point Evelyn's voice broke in on a note of querulousweariness. 

"Do come away, Honor. I've eaten queer things enough to give meindigestion for a week; and I can't understand a word any one issaying. What was he getting so excited about just now?"

"Something that must make you feel a very proud woman, Evelyn, " thegirl answered; and with a thrill in her low voice she translated theman's last words. 

Mrs Desmond flushed softly; praise of her husband being only a fewdegrees less acceptable than praise of herself. 

"It sounds very magnificent, " she agreed, without enthusiasm, "but Idaresay he doesn't really mean half of it. These natives never do. Anyway, please say the polite and proper things and let's get home assoon as possible. I'm sure we've done enough to satisfy even Theo bythis time. "

And Honor, who would fain have listened to their host for anotherhalf-hour, had no choice but to obey. 

"Why, Evelyn, " she said, as they left the striped sun and shadow ofthe lines, "you never told me that Captain Desmond won his V. C. Bysaving the Jemadar's life. I want to hear all about it, please. "

Evelyn smiled, and shrugged her shoulders. 

"You probably know as much as I do. Theo never _will_ tell abouthimself. Besides, in my own heart, I think he was rather foolish torisk getting killed several times over just for the sake of a_native_. " The scorn that some few Anglo-Indians never lose lurked inher tone. "Of course it's very nice for him to have the V. C. , and Isuppose he thought it was worth while just for that. But I hope hewon't go in for any _more_ things of that sort. There's _me_ to beconsidered now. "

Such peculiar views on the subject of heroism smote Honor to silence, and with a hurried murmur that Dilkusha seemed impatient to get homeshe set the mare into a trot. 

Arrived in the cool dimness of her own drawing-room, Evelyn Desmondsank gratefully into a chair, her skirts billowing softly about her. 

"How refreshing it is here, after that glaring courtyard! This placeis getting too hot already. I _do_ wish Theo would let me go to Simlaagain this year. Last season the Walters asked him to let me jointhem; and it was simply lovely. Though I didn't half like leaving himbehind; and I suppose I shan't like it much this year either. "

"Then why go at all?" suggested practical Honor. "You're not obligedto. Surely Mrs Olliver stays?"

"Mrs Olliver! She's not a woman! She's a Regimental Institution. Ican't think _what_ the men see in her to make such a fuss about! Aplain, badly-made Irishwoman, who dresses abominably. And she's muchtoo casual with all of them--especially with Theo, even if she _did_save his life from typhoid fever. "

Honor made no immediate reply. It was only charitable to suppose thatan overdose of sunshine and block tea was responsible for the note ofirritation in Evelyn's tone. 

"I suppose you think I ought to imitate her, " Mrs Desmond went on, after an expectant pause. "Kohat is hateful enough in the coldweather, and with heat and cholera, and flies added, it would kill meoutright! Besides, I don't believe a man loves one any better for thatsort of thing in the end. He probably gets horribly bored, and doesn'tlike to say so. Besides--Theo _prefers_ me to go, he _said_ so; andthat settles everything quite comfortably for us both. By the way, I've been planning a sort of introduction picnic for you, only thatstupid tea-party put it out of my head. I'll make out a list of peopleat once and send the invitations out this evening. "

She crossed over to her bureau, which, apart from the piano, was theonly piece of furniture the room contained that in England would beconsidered worthy of the name. 

While she sat absorbed in her congenial task, Desmond entered equippedfor polo, and after a few words with Honor went over to his wife. 

"What are you so taken up with, Ladybird?" he asked. 

"Something lovely! A picnic--for Honor. "

Desmond laughed. 

"Six for her and half a dozen for yourself! Let's see who we'reinviting. "

He ran his eye down the list of guests--twelve in all. At sight of thelast two names--Mr Kresney, Miss Kresney--he frowned sharply, andtaking up his wife's discarded pencil ran a broad black line throughboth. 

She pushed his hand aside with an unusual display of irritation. 

"What did you do _that_ for?" she demanded, a ring of defiance in hervoice. "I want to ask the Kresneys; and I will--all the same. "

"Indeed, little woman, you'll do nothing of the sort. "

"Why? What's wrong with them, Theo? They're quite decent people, asfar as I can see. "

"Which doesn't prove that you can see very far! You must just take myword for it, that whatever else they may be, the Kresneys are not oursort at all. "

"I suppose you really mean they're not up to _Frontier Cavalry form!_"she retorted, not without a thrill of fear at her own daring; for thepride of the Frontier Force is a deeply-rooted pride; and, consideringits records, not unjustifiable after all. 

Desmond's eyes flashed fire, and a sharp retort rose to his lips. But, after a brief silence, he answered his wife with a restraint thatspoke volumes to the girl at the tea-table behind him. 

"Your taunt is unjust and untrue. In a general way we accept mostpeople for what they are, out here. But one has to draw the linesomewhere, even in India. If I were Deputy-Commissioner, the Kresneyswould be asked along with the rest. But, in my position, I am free tomake distinctions. And I have very good reasons for not asking Kresneyto an informal picnic of my particular friends. On neutral ground, such as the club, or the tennis-courts, I have nothing to say; thoughI should naturally feel pleased if you considered my wishes a littlein this matter. "

"Well, then, why can't you consider _mine_ a little too? I told MissKresney about it, and she's expecting to come. "

"I'm sorry for that; I don't want to hurt the girl's feelings. But youcan't take people up just for once and ignore them afterwards. Thetruth is, they both see plainly enough that you haven't quite got thehang of things out here yet, and they are naturally taking fulladvantage of the fact. "

Evelyn's passing gentleness evaporated on the instant. 

"They're _not!_" she protested wrathfully. "And it's horrid of you tosay such things! They like me, I don't see why I shouldn't be nice tothem. Besides, this is _my_ picnic--I planned it--and if _I'm_ thehostess I can ask who I please. " The touch of young importance thatsounded through the petulance of her tone dispelled the last shadow ofDesmond's annoyance and set him smiling. 

"Why, of course, Ladybird--within reasonable limits. But after all, the hospitality offered is mine; and what's more, the hostess is mineinto the bargain!"

He laid his hand lightly against the rose-flush of her cheek, but shejerked it impatiently aside. 

"Oh, well, if you will take it that way, " he said, in a tone ofresigned weariness, and turning abruptly on his heel came across toHonor, whose cheeks were almost as hot as Evelyn's own. 

"I'm glad Alla Dad Khan made himself interesting this afternoon, " heremarked conversationally. "Ressaldar Rajinder Singh, who commands mySikh troop, is very anxious to come and pay his respects some daysoon. You see, as your father's daughter and the Major's sister youare a rather special person for us all. But I must be off now. Thefellows will be waiting. I'll arrange about the Sirdar to-morrow. "

On the threshold he paused and looked towards his wife, who still satwith her back to the room, her head supported on her hand. 

"Good-bye, Ladybird, " he said, and there was marked kindliness in histone. 

She acknowledged the words with a scarcely perceptible movement, and afew minutes later the rattle of hoofs on the road came sharply totheir ears. 

Honor's anger flamed up and overflowed. 

"Oh, Evelyn, how _can_ you behave like that to him!"

Still no answer; only, after a short silence, Evelyn rose and facedher friend. Then Honor saw that her cheeks were wet and her eyesbrimming with tears. 

It is to be feared that her first sensation was one of pure annoyance. Evelyn thoroughly deserved a scolding: and here she was, as usual, disarming rebuke by her genuine distress. 

"_Now_, I suppose he'll go--and get _killed!_" she said, in a chokedvoice. 

"My dear child, what nonsense! He'll come back safe enough. You don'tdeserve that he should be so patient with you--you don't indeed!"

Evelyn looked up at her with piteous drowned eyes, whose expressionhad the effect of making Honor feel altogether in the wrong. 

"He shouldn't have made such disagreeable remarks about me and theKresneys, then, " she said brokenly. "All the same, I wanted to speakto him. But--I was crying, and I couldn't make a scene--with _you_there. And now--if anything happens to him, and--I never see himagain, --it'll be all _your_ fault!"

With that finely illogical conclusion she swept out of the room, leaving Honor serenely unimpressed by her own share in the impendingtragedy, yet not a little troubled at thought of the man who, for therest of his natural life, lay at the mercy of such bewildering methodsof reasoning. 

CHAPTER V. 

AN EXPURGATED EDITION. 

 "A little lurking secret of the blood; A little serpent secret, rankling keen. "

The Kresneys looked in vain for the coveted invitation, and thetrifling circumstance loomed largely on their narrow horizon. 

Owen Kresney possessed in a high degree that talent for discovering orinventing slights which is pride of race run crooked, and reveals thetaint of mixed blood in a man's veins. As District Superintendent ofPolice he had relieved his predecessor in the middle of the hotweather. His sister being at Mussoorie, he had arrived alone; and, inaccordance with the friendly spirit of the Frontier, had been made anhonorary member of the station Mess, where he had found himself verymuch a stranger in a strange land. 

The man's self-conceit was unlimited; his sense of humour _nil_; andin less than a month he had been unanimously voted a "_pukka_[12]bounder" by that isolated community of Englishmen, who played as hardas they worked, and invariably "played the game"; a code of moralswhich had apparently been left out of Kresney's desultory education. The fact revealed itself in a hundred infinitesimal ways, and eachrevelation added a fresh stone to the wall that sprang up apacebetween himself and his companions. 

[12] Thorough. 

Among them all Desmond and Wyndham represented, in the highest degree, those unattainable attributes which Kresney was secretly disposed toenvy; and his narrow soul solaced itself by heartily detesting theirpossessors. This ability to recognise the highest without the leastdesire to reach it, breeds more than half the pangs of envy, hatred, and malice that corrode the lesser natures of earth. But there werealso, in Kresney's case, personal and particular reasons which servedto nourish these microbes of the soul. 

Toward the close of the hot weather the man's growing unpopularity hadbeen established by an incident at Mess, which brought him into suchsharp contact with Desmond as he was not likely to forget. 

There had been a very small party at dinner. Several of the older menwere absent on leave, and three were on the sick list, no uncommonoccurrence in Frontier stations. Thus it had chanced that Desmond wasthe senior officer present. 

The wine had already been round twice when the sound of a lady's name, spoken in passing, had diverted Kresney's attention from his owndissatisfied thoughts. 

It chanced that he had met this same lady at Murree a year ago, andthat she had roundly snubbed his advances towards intimacy. Theunexpected mention of her name revived that sense of injury whichsmoulders in such natures like a live coal; and on the same instantawoke the desire to hit back with the readiest weapon available. 

Forgetful of the restriction imposed by the rigid code of themess-table, he launched the first disparaging comment that sprang tohis mind. 

Directly the sentence was out, he could have bitten his own tongue forpure vexation. 

It fell crisp and clear into a chasm of silence, as a dropped pebbleplashes into a well. 

The stillness lasted nearly a minute, and while it lasted Kresney feltthe fire of Desmond's glance through his lowered lids. Then some onehazarded a remark, and the incident was submerged in a renewed tide oftalk. 

When dinner broke up, with a general movement towards the ante-room, Kresney became aware that Desmond was at his side. 

"You will be good enough to come into the verandah with me, " he hadsaid in a tone of command; and Kresney, feeling ignominiously like achidden schoolboy, had had no choice but to obey. 

Before that brief interview was ended, the man had heard the truthabout himself for the first time in his life, with the sole resultthat he registered in his heart an unquenchable hatred of the speaker. 

But Desmond had been in no mood just then to reckon withafter-results. All the inborn chivalry of the man was up in arms, lessagainst the spoken words than against the petty spite underlyingthem--the cowardly hit at a woman powerless to defend herself. In anunguarded moment he gave full vent to the scorn and disgust thatconsumed him, and lashed the man without mercy. 

Then--realising the utter inability to alter the other's peculiarpoint of view--natural magnanimity checked his impetuous outburst:

"I don't know whether you are aware, " he said, "that after to-night Ishould be justified in asking the Mess President to remove your namefrom the list of Honorary Members. But that is rather a strongmeasure, and I decided instead to speak a few straight words to youmyself. If they've been a trifle too straight, I am sorry. But remarksof the kind you made this evening are inadmissible at a mess-table;or, for that matter, at any other table where--gentlemen are present. Now, if you give me your word to keep the rules of the Mess strictlyin future, I will give you mine that this incident shall never bementioned to any one by me, or by any one of the fellows hereto-night. "

Kresney had given the required promise none too graciously. But hiseffort at perfunctory thanks stuck in his throat; nor did Desmondappear to expect them. With a brief reassurance in respect of his ownsilence he turned back into the Mess; and there, so far as externalswent, the incident had ended. 

 * * * * *

Yet, on this still March evening, as Kresney strolled back and forthon his narrow verandah, enjoying an after-dinner cigar, every detailof that detested interview darted across his memory for the hundredthtime, like a lightning-streak across a cloud. Wounded, in the mostsusceptible part of his nature, Kresney saw no reason to deny himselfthe satisfaction of hitting back. Whatever may have been hisprinciples in regard to debts in general, he was scrupulouslypunctilious in settling debts of malice, --indirectly, if possible; andin this instance personal antipathy added zest to the mere duty ofrepayment. 

Very early in the cold weather Kresney had become aware that aneffective weapon lay ready to his hand, and had taken it up withoutscruple or reluctance. Evelyn Desmond's natural lack of discernment, her blindness to the subtle impertinence of flattery, and her zeal fortennis--a game seldom patronised by cavalrymen, --had worked alltogether for good; and Kresney had gone forward accordingly, nothingloth. 

He had looked to the riding picnic to mark a definite step in advance, and Mrs Desmond's intention of inviting them was beyond doubt. Remained the inference that Desmond had used either authority orpersuasion to prevent it. 

The idea stirred up all the dregs of the man's soul. A suddenbitterness overwhelmed him--a sense of the futility of attempting tostrike at a man so obviously favoured by the gods; a man who held hishead so resolutely above the minor trivialities of life. 

But the will to strike would soon or late evolve a way. There wereother means of achieving intimacy with a woman as inexperienced aslittle Mrs Desmond, and he would get Linda to help him. Linda was agood girl, if a trifle stupid. At least she had the merit of believingin him and obeying his wishes with unquestioning fidelity--a verycreditable merit in the eyes of the average man. 

These reflections brought him to a standstill by one of the doors thatopened into the drawing-room. It was a long narrow room of anaggressively Anglo-Indian type--overcrowded with aimless tables, painted stools and chairs in crumpled bazaar muslins, or glossy withAspinall's enamel. The dingy walls were peppered with Japanese fans, China plates, liliputian brackets, and photographs in plush frames. Had Miss Kresney taken her stand on each door-sill in turn and flungher possessions, without aim or design, at the whitewashed spacesaround her, she could not have produced a more admired disorder. Thisshe recognised with a thrill of pride; for she aspired to be artistic, and some misguided friend had assured her that the one thing needfulwas to avoid symmetry or regularity in any form. 

Her own appearance harmonised admirably with her surroundings. Shewore the shapeless tea-gown beloved of her kind--made in the verandah, and finished with dingy lace at the neck and wrists, and even at thishour a suggestion of straw slippers showed beneath the limp silk ofher gown. Yet, as Evelyn Desmond saw her on the tennis-courts, she wasa neatly clad, angular girl of eight-and-twenty, with a suppressed, furtive air that was an unconscious reflection upon her brother'scharacter. In her heart she cherished a lurking admiration forDesmond, and aspired to become the wife of a cavalry officer--HarryDenvil being the temporary hero of her dreams. 

When her brother entered the room she was fitfully engaged inperpetrating a crewel-work atrocity for one of her many chairs. 

He did not speak his thought at once, but stood looking down at hercritically through the smoke-wreaths of his cigar. The major share ofgood looks certainly rested with himself; but for eyes set too neartogether, and the relentless lines that envy and ill-humour pencilabout a man's mouth, the face was attractive enough, in its limitedfashion. He had the same air of being "off duty" which pervaded hissister, and his Japanese smoking-suit showed signs of being a very oldfriend indeed. 

"Look here, Linda, " he began at last, "when are we playing tennisagain with little Mrs Desmond?"

"I think it was Tuesday, " she said. 

"Well, then, ask her to tea here first, d'you see?"

Linda's brown eyes--it pleased her to call them hazel--widened withsurprise. 

"Oh, my! D'you think she would reallee come? It was nastee of her toleave us out of her picnic like that, after she told me all about it, too. "

Miss Kresney's insistence on the consonants and the final vowels wasmore marked than her brother's; for although three-fourths of theblood in her veins was English, very few of her intimate associatescould make so proud a boast without perjuring their souls: and thereare few things more infectious than tricks of speech. 

"Yes, of course, " he acquiesced readily. "But I'm jolly well certainthat was not her doing. She'll come, right enough, if you ask hernicely. At all events it is worth trying, if only on the chance ofannoying her insufferable husband. "

"If you wish it, certainlee. I would like to be better friends withMrs Desmond. Only, I do not quite see why you dislike _him_ so muchmore than the others. "

Kresney hesitated before replying. It was not often that Linda aspiredto question either his motives or decisions; and he had begun tosuspect that her loyalty wavered, by a hair's-breadth, where Desmondwas concerned. After all, why not tell her an expurgated edition ofthe truth. The idea commended itself to him for many reasons, and evenas she was beginning to wonder at his silence he sat down beside herand spoke; the sting of humiliation stimulating his inventive facultyas he went on. 

Desmond himself would scarce have recognised the incident, but MissKresney was clearly impressed. 

"You see, Linda, " her brother concluded, "a fellow can't be expectedto stand that sort of thing without hitting back, and I am trying tohit back a bit now. It is only fair. These Frontier Force chaps need alot of setting down, I can tell you. They fancy they hold all India intheir hands. And what is it they do after all, except play polo likemaniacs, and play all manner of foolish pranks at Mess? They make agod out of this Desmond, here; and the fellow is as proud as thedevil. He will be jolly well mad if his wife gets really friendly withme. As he will not ask us there, we will ask her here--you see? Andyou must be as nice as you can. Say pretty things to her--that pleasesher more than anything: and make yourself useful, if you get thechance. She's not half a bad little woman; and if you help me, Linda, I shall get in with her yet in spite of her conceited prig of ahusband. "

The smile that accompanied the words was not a pleasant one, but thegirl returned it with an uncritical fervour of affection. 

"You know I am always glad to please you, Owen. I am onlee sorree youdid not tell me all about it sooner. "

Her ready championship put him in high good-humour with himself andthe world at large. 

"You really _are_ no end of a good girl, Linda, " he said, as he roseto his feet. "I shall ask Denvil to tea for you on Tuesday; and youshall have a new frock as soon as ever I get next month's pay. Not athing made in the verandah; but a good style of frock from Mussoorieor Lahore, whichever you please; and you can ask Mrs Desmond to helpyou choose it. Her dresses are always first class, and she isinterested in such things. "

CHAPTER VI. 

GENIUS OF CHARACTER. 

 "For still the Lord is Lord of Might, In deeds, in deeds, He takes delight. " --R. L. S. 

Evelyn Desmond's picnic was an accomplished fact. At four o'clock, inthe full glare of a late March sun, a business-like detachment oftwenty horses, and one disdainful camel, proceeded at a brisk trotalong the lifeless desolation of the Bunnoo Road. The party kept inclose formation, straggling of any sort being inadmissible when thebounds of the station have been left behind. Ten of the riders wereEnglish, and an armed escort guarded them in front and rear; thecamel, in gala trappings of red and blue, being responsible forprovisions, enamelled iron tea-things, and the men's guns. 

Notwithstanding the absence of the Kresneys, Evelyn Desmond was in amood of unusual effervescence. Harry Denvil rode at her side, and thetwo kept up a perpetual flow of such aimless, happy nonsense as is aptto engender vague regret in the hearts of those who have arrived atgreater wisdom. 

Three miles of riding brought them to the welcome refreshment of ariver running crystal clear over a bed of pebbles. Beside the riverrose an isolated plateau--abrupt, inconsequent, and, like all thingselse in the tawny landscape, unsoftened by a blade of living green. 

The face of the rock was riddled with rough, irregular holes, asthough Titans had been using it for a target. Around and above it abevy of blue rock-pigeons--circling, dipping, and darting with astrong rush of wings--shone like iridescent jewels, green and blue andgrey, against the unstained turquoise of the sky, whose intensity ofcolour made generous atonement for the lack of it on earth. At thefoot of the cliff a deep pool mirrored the calm wonder of the sky. 

Here the camel was brought to his knees, and the escort, dismounting, formed a wide circle of sentries round the little party, the undernoteof danger suggested by their presence giving a distinct flavour to thechildishly simple affair. The white man's craze for carrying his foodmany miles from home, in order to eat it on the ground, remains aperpetual bewilderment to the natives, who express their opinion onthe matter in all frankness and simplicity by christening it the"dinner of fools. "

Pigeon-shooting was the established amusement of afternoons spentunder the cliff; and, the meal being over, sport was soon in fullprogress, Frank Olliver and Mrs Jim Conolly handling their guns asskilfully as any man present. 

While Honor stood watching them, Wyndham drew near and remained by herfor a few seconds without a word. Then: "Shall we go and sit over bythe river, Miss Meredith, and leave them to their sport?" he askedsuddenly, his eyes and voice more urgent than he knew. 

"Yes; I'd far rather watch the birds than shoot them. They are toobeautiful to be killed for the sake of passing the time. But youprobably don't see it that way--men seldom do. "

"I must be the eternal exception, then!" he answered, as they turnedaway. "It's not a creditable confession for a right-minded man: but Ishrink from taking life, even in the exigencies of my profession. "

At that she turned upon him with a spontaneous frankness of interest, which had lured many men to their undoing. 

"Will you think me very ill-mannered if I ask how you ever came tochoose such a profession at all? I wondered about it the first time Isaw you. "

"Do I look as hopelessly unsoldier-like as all _that?_"

"No--a thousand times, no!" And the quick colour flamed in her cheeks. 

"Well, then?"

"I only meant--I see a good deal in faces, and--yours gave me a strongimpression that you would prefer reading and thinking to acting andstriving. "

His smile had in it both surprise and satisfaction. 

"You were not far out there. Let us sit down on this rock for a bit. Iwould like to answer your question. May I light a cigarette?"

"Do. "

He took his time over the simple operation. His impulse towardsunreserve puzzled him, and several seconds of silence passed before hespoke again; silence, emphasised by broken snatches of talk andlaughter; by the sharp crack of guns; and the whirring of a hundredwings, like the restless murmuring in the heart of a shell. 

"It may sound strange to you, " he began, not without an effort, "butthe truth is that my choice of a profession was simply the result ofmy friendship with Desmond. I think I told you we were at schooltogether. _His_ future was a foregone conclusion, and when it came tothe point--I chose just to throw in my lot with his. I am quite awarethat many people thought me a fool. But we have had twelve years of ittogether here, he and I; and it has certainly been good enough forme. "

He spoke in a tone of great quietness, his eyes set upon the shiningreaches of the river which, by now, ran molten gold in the westeringsunlight. 

"Thank you for telling me, " she said; and the simple words set hispulses travelling at an unreasonable rate of speed. "I had no ideafriendship could ever mean quite so much. "

"It doesn't in nine cases out of ten. But I think that's enough aboutmyself. It isn't my habit to entertain ladies with egotisticalmonologues!"

"But then, properly behaved ladies don't ask you direct personalquestions, do they?"

"Well--no--not often. "

And they exchanged one of those smiles that ripen intimacy morespeedily than a month of talk. 

"I'm quite unrepentant, all the same!" she said. "And I'm ratherwanting to ask you another. It's about Captain Desmond this time. MayI?"

"Ask away!"

"Well, I want to know more of how he won his V. C. Evelyn could give meno details when I asked her; and it struck me just now that you wereprobably there at the time. "

"Yes, indeed, I _was_, " he said, with a new ring in his voice. "Therewere a few bad minutes when we in the valley felt morally certain wehad seen the last of him. "

She turned on him with kindling eyes. 

"Oh, tell me--please! Tell me everything. I am soldier enough tounderstand. "

"I verily believe you are! And, since you wish it, you shall have itin full. It happened during a rising of the Ghilzais six years ago. They had given us rather a stiff time of it for some weeks, and onthis occasion a strong body of them had to be dislodged from a heightwhere they were safely entrenched behind one of their stone sangars, ready to pick off any of us who should attempt the ascent. But thething had to be done, like many other hopeless-looking things, and aparty of infantry and cavalry were detailed for the duty, --a companyof Sikhs, and twenty-five dismounted men of Desmond's squadron, led byhimself. Our main force was stationed in the valley, you understand, and the advance was covered by three mountain guns. The men weredeployed in an extended line at the foot of the hill, and began acareful ascent, taking advantage of every scrap of cover available, the Ghilzais picking them off with deadly certainty whenever they gotthe smallest chance. About two-thirds of the way up Alla Dad Khan wasbowled over and lay out in the open dangerously wounded, under thefull brunt of the enemy's fire. In a flash Desmond was out from underthe rock he had just reached. He crossed that open space under a rainof bullets it made one sick to see, and got the poor fellow up in hisarms. It seemed a sheer impossibility for him to get back under coveralive, hampered as he was by the wounded man, who--as you know--is amuch bigger fellow than himself. I gave up every shred of hope as Iwatched, and one or two of the sowars near me broke down and criedlike children. But if ever I beheld a miracle it was during those fewastounding minutes--the worst I've ever known. His clothes wereriddled with bullets; two of them passed clean through his helmet; yetexcept for a flesh wound in the left arm, he was untouched. "

Wyndham paused, and the girl drew in a long breath. 

"Oh, I can see it all!" she said softly. "But isn't there more?"

"A little more, if you want it. "

"Please. "

"Well, the hill was successfully cleared, and you may imagine thewelcome we gave Theo, when at last he got back to camp, with hisuniform in ribbons and his helmet gone. I don't know when I've heardsuch cheering from natives. Besides saving the Jemadar, the success ofthe whole affair had been due to his leadership and example. Hewouldn't hear of it, of course; but when the account came out in the'Gazette, ' he found himself belauded from start to finish, with a V. C. Conferred on him to crown all. One couldn't say much to him even then. He's not the sort. "

Honor's cheeks were on fire, her eyes like stars; and it ischaracteristic of Paul Wyndham that he noted these facts without ashadow of envy. 

"The genuine modesty of genius, " she said; and Paul bent his head inacquiescence. 

"Theo's genius is of the best kind, " he added; "it is genius ofcharacter, of a wide sympathetic understanding of men and things. Andon the Frontier, Miss Meredith, that sort of understanding counts formore than anywhere else in the country. We control our fellows here asmuch by love and respect as by mere discipline. Get a native to loveyou, and believe in you, and you are sure of him for good. That is whyofficers like Theo and your brother, who hold their men's hearts intheir hands, are, without exaggeration, the pillars on which thesafety of India rests. It is when the cry of 'Jehad' runs like firealong the Border, and the fidelity of our troops is being tamperedwith, that we get the clearest proof of this. At such times pay, pension, and Orders of Merit have no more power to restrain a Pathanthan a thread of cotton round his ankle. But there's just one thing hewill _not_ do--he will not desert, in his hour of need, an officerwhom he has found to be just, upright, and fearless, and whom he haspraised as a hero to his own people. "

Wyndham's unwonted eloquence, and the glow of feeling underlying it, lifted the girl to fresh heights of enthusiasm. 

"Oh, how glad I am to have come here!" she said with sudden fervour. "Captain Desmond was talking in much the same strain just before westarted; and one cannot listen to him without catching the fire of hisenthusiasm, which is surely the best kind of fire that ever came downfrom heaven!"

Just as she finished speaking, Desmond himself strode up to them. 

"I say, Paul, old man, " he remonstrated, "isn't it some one else'sturn for an innings by this time? Mrs Conolly is keen to have a talkwith Miss Meredith before we start. You both looked so absorbed thatshe begged me not to interrupt! I ought to have introduced her to youbefore starting, Miss Meredith. She's the wife of our acting CivilSurgeon and quite an old friend of yours, it seems. Will you come?"

The girl rose and turned to Wyndham with a friendly smile. "You and Ican have our talk out another time, can't we?"

"By all means. "

He sat watching her as she left him, with a tender concentration ofgaze, his brain stunned by a glimpse into undreamed-of possibilities;into a region of life whereof he knew nothing, and had believedhimself content to know nothing all his days. 

Mrs Jim Conolly was a large woman, nearer forty than thirty. Twentyyears of India, of hot weathers resolutely endured, of stretchingsmall means to the utmost limit and beyond it, had left their mark, insallowness of skin, in broken lines of thought between her brows, andof restrained endurance about her firmly-closed lips. She had the airof a woman who has never allowed herself to be worsted by the minormiseries of life; and in India the minor miseries multiplyexceedingly. Unthinking observers stigmatised her face as harsh andunprepossessing; but it was softened and illumined by a glow ofgenuine welcome as she greeted Honor Meredith. 

"I wonder if you have the smallest recollection of me?" she said. "Mylast glimpse of you was in a dak gharri at Pindi, when you were firststarting for home nineteen years ago, and the sight of what you havegrown into makes me feel a very old woman indeed! Do you rememberthose Pindi days at all?"

"Bits, here and there, quite vividly. I had been wondering already whyI seemed to know your face. It was you who had the two nice babies Iloved so dearly. Haven't you any for me to play with now?"

"Yes, my two youngest are still with me. But they are rather bigbabies by this time. You must come over and see them soon, and we willpick up the threads of our dropped friendship, Honor. Your father andmother were very good to me in the old days, but you were my chieffriend from the start. You have grown into a very beautiful woman, dear, " she added, in a lower tone; "and if you ever want help oradvice while you are here alone, I hope you will turn to me for it asreadily as you would to your own mother. I haven't seen Lady Meredithfor years. Sit down under the cliff with me, and give me some news ofthem all. "

By the time dusk had set in the little party was back again inDesmond's compound, the escort deserting them at the gate; and asHonor Meredith prepared to dismount, Paul Wyndham came forward, acertain restrained eagerness in his eyes. 

"May I?" he asked, with the diffidence of a man unused to making suchrequests. 

"I generally manage all right, thanks. "

"You might make an exception, though--just this once. "

For an instant of time his hands supported her--an instant of suchkeen sensation that, when it was passed, he pulled himself upsharply--called himself a fool, and in the same breath wished that shehad been a few degrees less skilful in springing lightly to theground. 

Ready-made talk was, for the moment, beyond him; and he departedsomething hastily, leaving Honor and his friend alone together in thedarkening verandah. 

Voices and laughter came out to them from the drawing-room, whereEvelyn and Denvil were carrying on their young foolishness withundiminished zeal; and Desmond turned upon the girl the irresistiblefriendliness of his eyes. 

"You enjoyed yourself, I hope, --Miss Meredith?"

"Immensely, thank you, --Captain Desmond. "

Her tone was a deliberate echo of his; and their eyes met in mutuallaughter. 

"Aren't we good friends enough now to drop the formality?" he asked. And at the question a lightning vision came to her of the scene on thehillside, so vividly described by his friend. 

"Yes--I think--we are, " she said slowly. 

"That's right. I think so too. "

"I seem to have made quite an advance in that direction thisafternoon, " she added, in no little surprise at her own boldness. 

"How's that? Paul?"

"Yes. "

"Oh! so that was the engrossing subject. I might have known Paulwasn't likely to be expatiating on himself. "

"He gave me a stirring account of a certain day in October, six yearsago, " she went on, with an unconscious softening of her voice. 

Desmond's short laugh had in it a genuine touch of embarrassment. 

"Did he? That was superfluous of him. The good fellow would have doneno less himself in the circumstances. Listen to those two children inthere! How finely they're enjoying themselves! I say, Harry!" heshouted to the invisible Denvil, who came forth straightway;--asquarely built, chestnut-haired boy, his sea-blue eyes still full oflaughter; "have you quite decided to invite yourself to dinner?"

"_Rather_--if you'll have me?"

"Of course I'll have you. Cut away and make yourself respectable. "

And as the boy vanished in the darkness Desmond turned to find hiswife's figure in the open doorway, its purity of outline thrown intostrong relief by the light within. 

She stood on the threshold balancing herself on the tips of her toesin a light-hearted ecstasy of unrest, and flung out both hands towardsher husband. 

"Oh, Theo, it was delicious! I had lovely fun!"

She came and nestled close to him with the confiding simplicity of achild; and Honor, under cover of the dusk, slipped round by the backof the house to her own room. 

CHAPTER VII. 

BRIGHT EYES OF DANGER. 

 "My mistress still, the open road; And the bright eyes of danger. " --R. L. S. 

By mid-April, life in the blue bungalow had undergone an unmistakablechange for the better; and Theo Desmond, sitting alone in thecongenial quietness of his study, an after-dinner pipe between histeeth, a volume of Persian open before him, and Rob's slumbering bodypressed close against his ankles, told himself that he and his wife, in befriending Honor Meredith at a moment of difficulty, had withoutquestion entertained an angel unawares. Evelyn had blossomed visiblyin the pleasure of her companionship; while he himself found her goodto talk with, and undeniably good to look at. 

There was also a third point in her favour, and that by no means theleast. Her sympathetic rendering of the great masters of music hadrenewed a pleasure linked with memories sacred beyond all others. Althea Desmond bid fair to retain undivided supremacy over the strongson, who had been the crown and glory of her life. Death itself seemedpowerless to affect their essential unity. Her spirit--vivid andvigorous as his own--still shared and dominated his every thought; andher photograph, set in a silver frame of massive simplicity, stoodclose at his elbow, while he reviewed the changes wrought in the pastfew weeks by the unobtrusive influence of John Meredith's sister. 

The mere lessening of strain and friction in regard to the countlessdetails of an Indian household was, in itself, an unspeakable relief. During the first few months of his marriage he had persevered steadilyin the thankless task of instructing his cheerfully incompetent bridein the language and household mysteries of her adopted country. Butthe more patiently he helped her the more she leaned upon his help;till the futility of his task had threatened to wear his temperthreadbare, and to put a severe strain on a relationship more complexthan he had imagined possible. 

Now, however, the tyranny of trifles was overpast. The man's elasticnature righted itself, with the spring of a finely-tempered bladereleased from pressure, and as the passing weeks revealed his wife'sprogress under Honor's tuition, he readily attributed her earlierfailures to his own lack of skill. 

As a matter of fact, her power to cope with Amar Singh--Desmond'sdevoted Hindu bearer--and the eternal enigmas of charcoal, _jharrons_, [13] and the _dhobie_, [14] had not increased one whit: andshe knew it. But the welcome sound of praise from her husband's lipsconvinced her that she must have done something to deserve it. Sheaccepted it, therefore, in all complacency, without any acknowledgmentof the guiding hand upon the reins. 

[13] Dusters. 

[14] Washerman. 

Great peace dwelt also in the compound, where a colony of servants andtheir families lived their unknown lives apart; and great pride in theheart of Parbutti, since Amar Singh had so far unbent as to prophesythat the Miss Sahib would without doubt become a Burra Mem before theend of her days. 

While Desmond sat alone in this warm April evening, studying thefantastic Persian characters with something less than his wontedconcentration, the sound of the piano came to him through thehalf-open door. 

For a few moments he listened, motionless, to the first weirdwhispering bars of Grieg's Folkscene, "Auf den Bergen, " then the bookwas pushed hastily aside and the lamp blown out. Rob--rudely awakenedfrom a delectable dream of cats and the naked calves of unsuspectingcoolies--found himself plunged in darkness, and his master vanishingthrough the curtains into the detested drawing-room. 

Evelyn was installed on the fender-stool of dull red velvet, her handsclasped about her knees, her head raised in expectation. A dress ofsoftly flowing white silk, and a single row of pearls at her throat, intensified her fragile freshness, as of a lily of the field, acreature out of touch with the sterner elements of life. It was atsuch moments that her husband was apt to suffer a contraction ofheart, lest, in an impulse of infatuation, he had undertaken more thanhe would be able to perform. 

She patted his favourite chair; then, impulsively deserting her seat, crouched on the hearth-rug beside him and nestled her head against hisknee. 

"I told her to play it! I knew it would bring you at once, " shewhispered, caressing him lightly with a long slim hand. 

"You shall sing to me afterwards yourself, " he said, "a song inkeeping with your appearance to-night. You look like some sort ofelf-maiden in that simple gown and my pearls. Only one touch wanted tocomplete the effect!"

With smiling deliberation he drew out four tortoise-shell pins thatupheld the silken lightness of her hair, so that it fell in a fairsoft cloud about her neck and shoulders. 

"Theo! How dare you!"

And as she turned her face up to him, in laughing remonstrance, he wasstruck anew by the childishness of its contour, in spite of thepallor, which had become almost habitual of late. Taking it betweenhis hands he looked steadfastly into the limpid shallows of her eyes, as though searching for a hidden something which he had little hope tofind. 

"Ladybird, what a baby you are still!" he murmured, "I wonder _when_you mean to grow into a woman?"

Then with a start he became aware that Amar Singh, having enterednoiselessly through the door behind him, stood at his side in a poseof imperturbable reverence and dignity. 

"Olliver Memsahib _ghora per argya_, "[15] he announced with discreetlylowered lids; while Evelyn, springing up with rose-petal cheeks and asmall sound of dismay, must needs try and look as if ladies inevening dress habitually wore their hair hanging loose about theirshoulders. 

[15] Has come on a horse. 

Honor swung round upon the music-stool as Frank Olliver, in eveningskirt and light drill jacket strode into the room. 

Before she could bring out her news, a blare of trumpets, sounding thealarm, startled the quiet of the night, and Desmond leapt to his feet. 

"There you are, Theo, man, " she said. "You can hear for yourself. It'sa fire in the Lines. Geoff and I caught sight of the flare just nowfrom our back verandah. He's gone on ahead; but I said I'd look inhere for you. "

"Thanks. Tell 'em to saddle the Demon, will you? I'll be ready in twominutes. "

And Mrs Olliver vanished from the room. 

As Desmond prepared to follow her, his wife's fingers closed firmly onthe edge of his dinner-jacket. 

She was sitting now in the chair he had left; and turned up to him aface half beseeching, half resentful in its frame of soft hair. 

"Why must _you_ go, Theo? There are heaps of others who--aren'tmarried. "

"Don't be a little fool, child!" he broke out in spite of himself. Then gently, decisively, he disengaged her fingers from his coat; buttheir clinging grasp checked his impatience to be gone. 

He bent down, and spoke in a softened tone. "I've no time forarguments, Evelyn. I am simply doing my duty. "

He was gone--and she remained as he had left her, with hands lyinglistlessly in her lap, and a frown between her finely pencilledbrows, --mollified, but by no means convinced. 

Honor had hurried into the hall, where Frank Olliver greeted her withimpulsive invitation. 

"Why don't you 'boot and saddle' too, Honor, an' ride along with us?"

"I only wish I could! I'd love to go! But I _must_ stay with Evelyn. She is upset and nervous about Theo as it is. "

"Saints alive! How _can_ you put up with her at all--at all!"muttered irrepressible Frank. "But hush, now, here's the blessedfellow himself!"

Theo Desmond strode rapidly down the square hall, hung with trophiesof the chase and implements of war--an incongruous figure enough, inforage cap and long brown boots with gleaming spurs, his sword buckledon over his evening clothes. He snatched a long clasp-knife from thewall in passing, and the Irishwoman, with an nod of approval, hurriedout into the verandah, where the impatient horses could be heardchamping their bits. 

Desmond had a friendly smile for Honor in passing. 

"Pity you can't come too. Be good to Ladybird. Don't let her workherself into a fever about nothing. "

 * * * * *

For eight breathless minutes the grey and the dun sped through thewarm night air, under a rising moon, their shadows fleeing beforethem, long and black, --two perspiring saïses following zealously intheir wake;--till their riders drew rein before a pandemonium ofscurrying men and horses, silhouetted against a background of fire. 

The great pile of sun-dried bedding burnt merrily: sending up fiercetongues of flame, that shamed the moonlight, as dawn shames the lamp. A brisk wind from the hills caught up shreds and flakes from theburning mass, driving them hither and thither, to the sore distractionof man and beast. 

Lithe forms of grass-cutters and water-carriers, in the scantiestremnants of clothing, leaped and pranced on the outskirts of the fire, like demons in a realistic hell. 

In valiant spurts and jerks, alternating with ignominious flight, theywere combating that column of flame and smoke with thimblefuls ofwater, flung out of stable buckets, or squirted from mussacks. Theywere beating it also with stript branches, making night radiant with athousand sparks. 

But the soaring flames jeered at their pigmy efforts; twinkledderisively on their glistening bodies; and assailed the vast composureof the skies with leaping blades of light. 

To the bewildering confusion of movement was added a no lessbewildering tumult of sound, whose most heart-piercing note was themaddened scream of horses; and whose lesser elements included shoutsof officers and sowars; high-pitched lamentations from the audience ofnatives; the barking of dogs; and the drumming of a hundred hoofs uponthe iron-hard ground. 

During the first alarm of the fire, which had broken out perilouslyclose to the quarters occupied by Desmond's squadron, the terrifiedanimals in their frenzied efforts to break away from the ropes, hadreduced the Lines to a state of chaos. Those of them, and they weremany, who succeeded in wrenching out their pegs, had instinctivelyheaded for the parade-ground beyond the huts; their flight complicatedby wandering lengths of rope that trailed behind them, whirled inmid-air, or imprisoned their legs in treacherous coils; while sowarsand officers risked life and limb in attempting to free them fromtheir dilemma. 

The restless brilliance gave to all things a strange nightmaregrotesqueness: and a blinding, stifling shroud of smoke whirled andbillowed over all. 

As the riders drew up, there was a momentary lull, and beforedismounting Desmond flung a ringing shout across the stillness. 

"_Shahbash_, [16] men, _shahbash_! Have no fear! Give more water--waterwithout ceasing!"

[16] Well done. 

He was answered by an acclamation of welcome from all ranks. 

"_Wah!_ _Wah!_ Desmin Sahib _argya_!"[17] the sowars of his squadroncalled to one another through the curling smoke; and the new arrivalswere speedily surrounded by a little crowd of officers and men:Wyndham, Denvil, Alla Dad Khan, and Ressaldar Rajinder Singh, in thespotless tunic and vast silken turban of private life. 

[17] Has come. 

The Jemadar took possession of the Demon's bridle, and Desmond, leaping lightly to the ground, hurried straightway to the relief of adistressed grass-cut. The man had been rash enough to attempt thecapture of two horses at once, and now stood in imminent danger ofbeing kicked to death by his ungrateful charges. 

Desmond took both horses in hand, holding them at arm's length, andsoothing them with his voice alone. 

"Here you are, Harry!" he said, as Denvil came to his assistance. "This poor fellow will go with you now, quietly enough. "

Handing over his second horse to the grass-cut, he vanished into thedarkness; where, betwixt stampeding horses and the incredibleswiftness of fire, he found more than sufficient scope for action. 

He came to a standstill, at length, for a second's breathingspace;--and lo, Rajinder Singh emerging suddenly from the heart ofpandemonium, breathless with haste, a great distress in his eyes. 

"Hullo, Ressaldar!" Desmond exclaimed. "What's up now?"

The tall Sikh saluted. 

"The knife, Sahib! Give me your knife! It is _Sher Dil_, [18] fallenamongst his ropes. He is like to strangle----"

[18] Lion Heart. 

"Great Scott! I'll see to it myself. "

And he set out, full speed, Rajinder Singh after him, protesting atevery step. 

The great black charger, the glory of the squadron and of his owner'sheart, was in a perilous case. So securely had he entangled himself inthe head-rope that, despite the freedom of his heels, and spasmodicefforts to regain his feet, he remained pinned to earth, not manyyards from where the fire was raging, --his fear and misery increasedby wind-blown fragments of lighted straw, by the roar and crackle ofthe burning pile. 

Desmond saw at a glance that his rescue might prove a dangerousbusiness, but Rajinder Singh was beside him now, still hopeful ofturning him from his purpose. 

"Hazúr--consider--the horse is mine----"

"No more words!" Desmond broke in sharply. "Stay where you are!"

He plunged forthwith into the stinging, blinding smoke; dexterouslyavoiding the hoofs of Sher Dil, subduing his terror with hand andvoice, though himself half choked, and constantly forced to close hiseyes at the most critical moments; while the task of avoiding theburning fragments that fell about him seemed in itself to demandundivided attention. 

Rajinder Singh, stationed at the nearest possible point, anxiouslywatched his Captain's progress; and here Paul Wyndham joined himhurriedly. 

"Who is that?" he asked. "The Captain Sahib?"

"To my shame, your honour speaks truth, " the old man made answerhumbly. "His heart was set to do this thing himself----"

"Have no fear, " Wyndham reassured him kindly; and, with a sharpcontraction of heart, ran to his friend's assistance. 

Desmond had already stooped to slit the rope that pressed so cruellyagainst the charger's throat; and, as Wyndham reached him, the animalgave a last convulsive plunge; threw out his forelegs in an ecstasy offreedom; and struck his deliverer full on the shoulder. 

"Damnation!" Desmond muttered, as he fell to the ground, and Sher Dilstaggered, panting, to his feet. 

Rajinder Singh sprang forward with a smothered cry. But, quick aslightning, Desmond was up again, and had secured the morsel of ropedangling by the horse's head. Only his left arm hung limp andhelpless, the droop of the shoulder telling its own tale. 

"Collar-bone, " he said laconically, in reply to the mute anxiety ofPaul's face. "Same old spot again!"

"It might just as well have been--your head, " Paul answered, with atwist of his sensitive mouth. He had not quite got over his fewmoments of acute suspense. 

Desmond laughed. 

"So it might, you old pessimist! But it wasn't! Here you are, Ressaldar Sahib! Never have I seen a horse so set on killing himself. But it was needful to disappoint him on your account. "

Rajinder Singh, who had come forward, plucking the muslin scarf fromhis shoulders for a bandage, saluted in acknowledgment of the words. 

"How is it possible to make thanks, Hazúr. . . ?"

Desmond laid a hand on the man's shoulder. 

"No need of thanks, " said he. "This fine fellow hath already thankedme in his own rough fashion, clapping me on the shoulder, --forgetfulof his great strength, --because he had no power to say 'Shahbash!'"

The old Sikh shook his head slowly, a great tenderness in his eyes. 

"Such is the gracious heart of the Captain Sahib, putting a good faceeven upon that which is evil. Permit, at least, that we make somemanner of bandage till it be possible to find the Doctor Sahib. "

It was permitted; and the useless arm having been strapped into place, Wyndham insisted upon his friend's departure; a fiat against whichDesmond's impetuous protests were launched in vain. For, like many menof habitually gentle bearing, Paul Wyndham's firmness was apt to besingularly effective on the rare occasions when he thought it worthwhile to give proof of its existence. 

"I'll ride back with you myself, " he announced, in a tone of finality, "and go on to the Mess for Mackay afterwards. The worst is over now, and you'll only let yourself in for a demonstration if your men findout that any harm has come to you. " The diplomatic suggestion had thedesired effect; and they rode leisurely back to the bungalow, under amoon no longer robbed of its radiance. 

Few words passed between them as they went; but on arriving at thesquat, blue gate-posts Wyndham drew rein and spoke. 

"Good-night, dear old chap. Take a stiff 'peg' the minute you get in. I'm in need of one myself. "

"Sorry if I gave you a bit of a shock, old man, " Desmond answeredsmiling, and rode at a foot's pace toward the house. 

"Here I am, Ladybird!" he announced, on entering the drawing-room; andEvelyn, springing from the depths of his chair, made an eager movementtowards him. 

But at sight of his bandaged arm and damp dishevelled appearance shehalted with lips apart. A curious coldness crept into her eyes andentirely banished the young look from her face. 

"Theo--you're hurt--you've broken something. "

"Well, and if I have?" he answered laughing. "It's a mere nothing. Only a collar-bone. "

"Your collar-bone isn't nothing. And I can't _bear_ to see you allhideous and bandaged up like that. I knew something would happen! Iwas sure it would!"

The light of good-humour faded from his eyes. 

"Well, well, if you knew it all beforehand, no need to make so manywords about it now. Let me sit down. It's been stifling work and--I'mtired. "

He sank into the chair and closed his eyes, his face grown suddenlyweary. His wife drew near to him slowly, with more of pained curiositythan of solicitude in her face, and laid a half-reluctant hand on thearm of his chair. 

"Does it hurt, Theo?" she asked softly. 

"Nothing to bother about. Mackay will be here soon. "

"Won't you tell us how it happened?"

"There's not much to tell, Ladybird. Rajinder Singh's charger kickedme while I was cutting his head-rope--that's all. The good old chapwas quite upset because I wouldn't let him do it himself. "

"Well, I think you _ought_ to have let him. It wouldn't have matteredhalf so much if _he_----"

"That's enough, Evelyn!" the man broke out in a flash of genuineanger. "If you're only going to say things of that sort, you may aswell hold your tongue. "

And once again he closed his eyes, as if in self-defence againstfurther argument or upbraiding. 

His wife stood watching him with a puzzled frown, while Honor, akeenly interested observer, wondered what would happen next. 

Her sympathy, as always, inclined to the man's point of view. But apassionate justness, very rare in women, forced her to acknowledgethat Evelyn's remonstrance, if injudicious, was not unjustifiable. Thegirl saw clearly that the sheer love of danger for its own sake, whichFrontier life breeds in men of daring spirit, had impelled Desmond toneedless and inconsiderate risk; saw also that his own perception ofthe fact added fire to his sharp retort. 

He stirred at length, with an uneasy shifting of the damaged shoulder. 

"This bandage is hideously uncomfortable, " he said in a changed tone. "Could you manage to untie it and fix it up more firmly till Mackaycomes?"

Thus directly appealed to, Evelyn cast a nervous glance at Honor. Thegirl made neither sign nor movement, though her hands ached to relievethe discomfort of the wounded man; and after a perceptible moment ofhesitation, Evelyn went to Desmond's side, her heart fluttering likethe heart of a prisoned bird. 

With tremulous fingers she unfastened the knot behind his shoulder, and, having done so, rested her hand inadvertently on the broken bone. It yielded beneath her touch, and she dropped the end of the bandagewith a little cry. 

"Oh, Theo, it _moved_! I can't touch it again! It's . . . It'shorrible!"

Her husband stifled an exclamation of pain and annoyance. 

"Could _you_ do it for me, Honor?" he asked. "It can hardly be leftlike this?"

She came to him at once, and righted the bandage with deft, unshrinking fingers, rolling part of the long scarf into a pad underhis arm to ease the aching shoulder. 

"Thank you, " he said. "That's first-rate. "

And as he shouted for a much-needed "peg, " Honor passed quietly out ofthe room. 

Evelyn remained standing a little apart, watching her husband withspeculative eyes. Then she came and stood near him, on the sidefarthest from the alarming bone that moved at a touch. 

"I'm sorry, Theo. Are you very cross with me?"

Her lips quivered a little, and the pallor of her face caught at hisheart. 

"No, no. We won't make mountains out of molehills, eh, Ladybird? Kissand be friends! like a good child, and get to bed as fast as possible. Mackay will be here soon, and you'll be best out of the way. "

He drew her down and kissed her forehead. Then, as she slippedsilently away through his study, and on into the bedroom beyond, helay back with a sigh in which relief and weariness were oddly mingled. He was devoutly thankful when the arrival of James Mackay dispelledhis disturbing train of thought. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

STICK TO THE FRONTIER. 

 "We know our motives least in their confused beginning. " --BROWNING. 

Honor sat alone in the drawing-room, a basket of socks and stockingsat her elbow, her thoughts working as busily as her needle. This girlhad reduced the prosaic necessity of darning to a fine art; and sinceEvelyn's efforts in that direction bore an odd resemblance toill-constructed lattice windows, Honor had taken pity on themaltreated garments very early in the day. 

Evelyn herself was at the tennis-courts, with the Kresneys and HarryDenvil, a state of things that had become increasingly frequent oflate; and a ceaseless murmur of two deep voices came to Honor's earsthrough the open door of the study, where Desmond was talking andreading Persian with his friend Rajinder Singh. 

Honor enjoyed working to the accompaniment of that sound. It had grownpleasantly familiar during the past week, in which Desmond had beencut off from outdoor activities. When the Persian lesson was over, hewould come in to her for a talk. Then there would be music, andpossibly a game of chess; for Desmond was an enthusiastic player. Theyhad spent one or two afternoons in this fashion already, since thenight of the fire; and their intimacy bid fair to ripen into a verysatisfying friendship. 

To the end of time, writers and thinkers will continue to insist uponthe impossibility of such friendships; and to the end of time, men andwomen will persist in playing with this form of fire. For it isprecisely the possibility of fire under the surface which lends itspeculiar fascination to an experiment old as the Pyramids, yeteternally fresh as the first leaf-bud of spring. 

In the past five years Honor had established two genuine friendshipswith men of widely different temperaments; and she saw herselfnow--not without a certain quickening of heart and pulse--in a fairway to establishing a third. 

The hum of voices ceased; there were footsteps in the hall; a fewhearty words of leave-taking from the Englishman, and two minuteslater he stood before her, his left sleeve hanging limp and empty; thearm and shoulder strapped tightly into place beneath the flap of hiscoat. 

"Not gone out yet?" he said, a ring of satisfaction in his tone. "Going to join Ladybird at the club later on?"

"No. As she had this engagement I stayed at home in case you might beglad to have some one to 'play with' after your long lesson was over. "

"Just like you!" he declared, with a touch of brotherly frankness, which was peculiarly pleasing to this brother-loving girl. "I've beenrather overdoing the Persian this week. You must give me someBeethoven presently. And if you really mean to 'play with' me you mustalso leave off looking so aggressively industrious. "

His eyes rested, in speaking, on the rapid movement of her needle, andhe became suddenly aware of the nature of her work. 

"Look here, Honor, " he exclaimed. "I draw the line at that! Ladybirdought not to allow it. We've no right to turn you into a domesticdrudge. "

"Ladybird--as you so delightfully call her--knows me far too well totry and stop me when she sees I mean to have my own way! Shall youmind if I go shares in your special name for her? It suits her evenbetter than her own. "

"Yes, it seems to express her, somehow--doesn't it?"

An unconscious tenderness invaded his tone, and his glance turned upona panel photograph of his wife in her wedding-dress that stood nearhim on the mantelpiece. Watching it thus, he fell into a thoughtfulsilence, which Honor made no attempt to break. Speaking or silent hiscompanionship was equally acceptable to her: and while she awaitedhis pleasure a great hole, made by the removal of one of Evelyn's"lattice windows, " filled up apace. 

Of a sudden he turned from the picture, and, drawing up a low chair, sat down before her, leaning a little forward, his elbow resting onhis knee. The urgency and gravity of his bearing made her at once laydown her work. 

"Honor, " he began, "I'm bothered . . . About Ladybird, . . . That's thetruth. I wonder if I can speak without fear of your misunderstandingme?"

"Try me! I am only too glad to help her in any way. "

His intense look softened to a smile. 

"You've made that clear enough already. I begin to wonder what shewill do when John comes back to claim you again. You so thoroughlyunderstand her, and thoroughly--love her. "

"She is a creature born to be loved. "

"_And_ to be kept happy, " he added very quietly. "But the vitalquestion is whether that is at all possible in Kohat, or in any otherof our stations; for Kohat is by no means the worst. She hates theplace, doesn't she? She's counting the days to get away to the Hills. You know you can't look me straight in the face and say she is happyhere. "

The unexpected attack struck Honor into momentary silence. Desmond wasfatally quick to perceive the shadow of hesitation, transient as abreath upon glass; and when she would have spoken he silenced her witha peremptory hand. 

"Don't perjure yourself, Honor. Your eyes have told me all I wanted toknow. "

Distress gave her a courage that surprised herself. 

"Indeed they have done nothing of the kind! You ask a direct question, and you are bound in fairness to hear my answer. The life here isstill very new to Evelyn, and she has not quite found her footingyet;--that is all. I have had it from her own lips that the placematters very little to her so long as she is--with you; and you go toofar in saying that she is not happy here. "

But her words did not carry conviction. He was still under theinfluence of his wife's curious aloofness since the night of thefire. 

"You're trying to let me down gently, Honor, " he said, with a rathercheerless smile. "And you may as well save yourself the trouble. Only--this is where you must _not_ misunderstand me, please, --noshadow of blame attaches to Ladybird if she isn't happy. I had noright to bring her up to this part of the world, knowing it as I did;and I've no right to keep her here. That's the position, in anutshell. "

"Do you mean you ought to--send her away?"

"No--_take_ her away. "

Honor started visibly. 

"But--surely--that's impossible?"

"I think not, " he said, in a matter-of-fact tone that distressed hermore keenly than any display of emotion. "It's merely a question offacing facts. If I had money enough, I could throw up the Army andtake her home. But, as matters stand, I can only do the next bestthing, and give up--the Frontier, by exchanging into a down-countryregiment. "

"_The Frontier. . . !_ Theo! Do you realise what you are saying?"

"Perfectly. "

"Oh, but it's folly--worse than folly! To give up what you have workedfor all these years--the men who worship you--your friends, theregiment----"

"They would survive the loss. I don't flatter myself I'mindispensable. Besides, this isn't a question of me or my friends. Iam thinking of Ladybird. "

The coolness of his tone, and the set determination of his mouth, chilled her fervour like a draught of cold air. 

"Oh, if only Major Wyndham were here!" she murmured desperately. 

"Thank God he is not! And if he were, it would make no difference. Ishouldn't dream of discussing such a matter with him or--any of them. When my mind is made up, I shall tell him; that is all. "

He rose as though the matter were ended; but Honor had no mind to lethim shut the door upon it--yet. 

"It is strange that you can speak so, " she said, "when you must know, better than any one, what your leaving the regiment would mean--toMajor Wyndham. "

"Yes--I know, " he answered quietly, and the pain in his eyes made herhalf regret her own daring. "The only two big difficulties in the wayare my father--and Paul. "

"_I_ see a whole army of others almost as big. "

"That is only because you are always in sympathy with the man's pointof view. "

"A matter like this _ought_ to be looked at first and foremost fromthe man's point of view. The truth is, Theo, that you have simplyappealed to me in the hope of having your own Quixotic notionconfirmed. You want me to say, 'Yes, go; you will be doing quiteright. ' And--think what you will of me--I flatly refuse to say it!"

He regarded her for a few seconds in an admiring silence, the smiledeepening in his eyes. Then:

"Don't you think you are a little hard on me?" he said at length. "Itis not altogether easy to do--this sort of thing. "

Honor made no immediate reply, though the strongest chords of herbeing vibrated in response to his words. Then she rose also, and stoodbefore him; her head tilted a little upwards; her candid eyes restingdeliberately upon his own. Standing thus, at her full height, sheappeared commandingly beautiful, but in the stress of the moment thefact counted for nothing with either of them. All the hidden forces ofher nature were set to remove the dogged line from his mouth; and hehimself, looking on the fair outward show of her, saw only a mindclear as crystal, lit up by the white light of truth. 

For an instant they fronted one another--spirits of equal strength. Then Honor spoke. 

"If I _do_ seem hard on you, it is only because I want, above allthings, to convince you that your idea is wrong from every point ofview. You have paid me a very high compliment to-day. I want you topay me a still higher one: to believe that I am speaking the simpletruth, as I see it, from a woman's standpoint, not merely trying tosave you from unhappiness. May I speak out straight?"

"As plainly as you please, Honor. Your opinion will not be despised, Ipromise you. "

"Well, then--is it fair on Evelyn to make her upbringing responsiblefor such a serious turn of the wheel? Would you give her no voice inthe matter--treat her as if she were a mere child?"

"She is very little more than a child. "

"Indeed, Theo, she is a great deal more. She is a woman, . . . And awife. The woman's soul isn't fully awake in her yet; but it may comeawake any day. And then--how would she feel if she ever found out----"

"She never would----"

"How can you tell? Women find out most things about the men they--carefor. It's a risk not worth running. Would she even acquiesce if youput the matter before her now, child as she is?"

"Frankly, I don't know. Possibly not. She isn't able to see aheadmuch, or look all round a subject. "

"Shall you be very angry if I say that you haven't yet lookedthoroughly round this one? The idea probably came to you as animpulse--a very fine impulse, I admit; and, instead of fairly weighingpros and cons, you have simply been hunting up excuses that willjustify you in carrying it out; because, for the moment, Evelyn seemsa little discontented with things in general. "

The hard lines about his mouth relaxed. 

"You _are_ speaking straight with a vengeance, Honor!"

"I know I am. It's necessary sometimes, when people are--obstinate!"And she smiled frankly into his troubled face. "Oh, believe me, it'sfatal for the man to throw all his life out of gear on account of thewoman. It's putting things the wrong way about altogether. Inaccepting her husband, a woman must be prepared to accept his life andwork also. "

"But, suppose she can't realise either till--too late?"

"That's a drawback. But if she really cares, it can still be done. Iam jealous for Evelyn. I want her to have the chance of showing thatshe has good stuff in her. Give her the chance, Theo; and if shedoesn't quite rise to it, don't feel that you are in any way toblame. "

"I'd be bound to feel that. "

"Then I can only say it would be very wrong-headed of you. " Her eyessoftened to a passing tenderness nevertheless. "Let the blame, ifthere is any, rest on my shoulders; and we'll hope that the need maynever arise. Now, have I said enough? Will you--_will_ you leavethings as they are, and put aside your impossible notion for good?"

The urgency of her request so touched him that he answered with areadiness which surprised himself. 

"No question but you're a friend worth having! I promise you thismuch, Honor. I will think very thoroughly over it all, since youaccuse me of not having done so yet! And we'll let the matter rest forthe present, anyway. I'd like to get you both to the Hills as soon aspossible. These Kresneys are becoming something of a nuisance. It'spast my comprehension how she can find any pleasure in their company. But she has little enough amusement here, and I'm loth to spoil any ofit. She'll enjoy going up to Murree, though, sooner than she expected;and as Mackay insists on my taking fifteen days before getting back towork, I can go with you, and settle you up there in about a week'stime. You'll see after her, for me, won't you, Honor? She's a littleheedless and inexperienced still; and you'll keep an eye on householdmatters more or less?"

"Of course I will, and make her see to them herself, too; though itseems rather like expecting a flower to learn the multiplicationtable! She is so obviously just made to be loved and protected. "

"_And_ kept happy, " he insisted, with an abrupt reversion to hisoriginal argument. 

"Yes--within reasonable limits. Now, sit down, please, and light up. You've been all this time without a cigar!"

But the cigar was hardly lighted before they were startled by aconfused sound of shouting from the compound;--a blur of shrill anddeep voices, punctuated by the strained discordant bark of a dog;--abark unmistakable to ears that have heard it once. Desmond sprang outof his chair. 

"By Jove! A mad pariah!"

Lifting Rob by the scruff of his neck, he flung that amazed anddignified person with scant ceremony into the study, and shut thedoor; then, judging by the direction of the sound, hurried out to thefront verandah, snatching up a heavy stick as he passed through thehall. Honor, following not far behind, went quickly into her own room. 

Desmond found his sun-diffused compound abandoned to a tumult ofterror. Fourteen servants and their belongings had all turned out inforce, with sticks, and staves, and valiant shakings of partiallyunwound turbans, against the unwelcome intruder--a mangy-coatedpariah, with lolling tongue and foam-flecked lips, whose bones showedthrough hairless patches of skin; and whose bared fangs snappedincessantly at everything and nothing, in a manner gruesome to behold. A second crowd of outsiders, huddled close to the gates, was also veryzealous in the matter of shouting, and of winnowing the empty air. 

As Desmond set foot on the verandah, a four-year-old boy, bent oncloser investigation of the enemy, escaped from the "home" battalion. His small mother pursued him, shrieking; but at the first snap thedog's teeth met in the child's fluttering shirt, and his shriekssoared, high and thin, above the deeper torrent of sound. 

In an instant Desmond was beside him, the stick swung high over hishead. But a low sun smote him straight in the eyes, and there wasscant time for accurate aim. The stick merely grazed the dog'sshoulder in passing; and Desmond almost lost his balance from theunresisted force of the blow. 

The girl-mother caught wildly at her son; and prostrating herself at asafe distance, babbled incoherent and unheeded gratitude. The dog, madwith rage and pain, made a purposeful spring at his one definiteassailant; and once again Desmond, half-blinded with sunlight, swungthe heavy stick aloft. But before it fell a revolver shot rang outclose behind him; and the dog dropped like a stone, with a bulletthrough his brain. 

A shout of quite another new quality went up from the crowd; andDesmond, turning sharply on his heel, confronted Honor Meredith, whiteto the lips, the strong light making an aureole of her hair. 

The hand that held the revolver quivered a little, and he caught it inso strong a grip that she winced under the pressure. 

"It would be mere impertinence to say 'thank you, '" he murmured withlow-toned vehemence. But his eyes, that sought her own, shamed thefutility of speech. "The sun was blinding me; and if I'd missed thesecond time----"

"Oh, hush, hush!" she pleaded with a quick catch of her breath. "Look, there's Rajinder Singh coming back. "

"He must have seen what happened; and by the look of him, I imagine_he_ will have no great difficulty in expressing his feelings. "

Indeed, the tall Sikh, whose finely-cut face and cavernous eye-bonessuggested a carving in old ivory, bowed himself almost to the groundbefore the girl who had saved his admired Captain Sahib from thepossibility of a hideous death. 

But in the midst of an impassioned flow of words, his deep voicefaltered; and squaring his shoulders, he saluted Desmond with a gleamof fire in his eyes. 

"There be more things in the heart of a man, Hazúr, than the tonguecan be brought to utter. But, of a truth, the Miss Sahib hath donegood service for the Border this day. "

Desmond flung a smiling glance at Honor. 

"_There's_ fame for you!" he said, with a lightness that was mere foamand spray from great deeps. "The whole Border-side is at yourfeet!--But what brought you back again, Rajinder Singh?"

"Merely a few words I omitted to say to your Honour at parting. "

The words were soon spoken; and the crowd, breaking up into desultorygroups, was beginning to disperse, when, to his surprise, Desmond sawhis wife's jhampan appear between the gate-posts, and pause for amoment while she took leave of some one on the farther side. Instinctively he moved forward to greet her; but, on perceiving hercompanion, changed his mind, and stood awaiting her by the verandahsteps. 

The dead dog lay full in the middle of the path; and Honor, stillholding her revolver, stood only a few yards away. At sight of thesethings the faint shadow of irritation upon Evelyn's face deepened todisgust, not unmixed with fear, and her voice had a touch ofsharpness in it as she turned upon her husband. 

"Who on earth put that horrible dog there, Theo? And why is Honorwandering about with a pistol? I met a whole lot of natives comingaway. Has anything been happening?"

"The dog was mad, and Honor shot him, " Desmond answered, with coolabruptness. Her manner of parting from Kresney had set the bloodthrobbing in his temples. "I only had a stick to tackle him with; andshe very pluckily came to my rescue. "

While he spoke, Honor turned and went into the house. She wasconvinced that Evelyn would strike a jarring note, and in her presentmood felt ill able to endure it. 

Evelyn frowned. 

"Oh, Theo, how troublesome you are! If the dog had bitten a fewnatives, who'd have cared?"

"Their relations, I suppose. And there was a child in danger, Evelyn. "

"Poor little thing! But you really can't go about trying to get killedfor the benefit of any stray sort of people. I am thankful I wasn'there!"

"Yes--it was just as well, " her husband answered drily, as he handedher out of the jhampan. "What brought you back so early?"

"The sun was too hot. I had a headache; and we were all playingabominably. I'm going in now, to lie down. "

She paused beside him, and her eyes lingered upon his emptycoat-sleeve. Lifting it distastefully between finger and thumb, sheglanced up at him with a droop of her delicate lips. 

"When is it going to be better? I hate to see you looking allone-sided like that. "

"I'm sorry, " he answered humbly. "But Nature won't be persuaded tohurry herself--even to please you. " He scrutinised her face with ashade of anxiety. 

"You do look white, Ladybird. How would it be if I took you to Murreein a week's time?"

"It would be simply lovely! _Can_ you do it--really? Would you _let_me go so soon?"

"_Let_ you go? Do you think I want to keep you here a moment laterthan you care to stay?"

"Theo!" Instant reproach clouded the April brightness of her face. "How horrid you are! I thought you liked to have me here as long aspossible. "

He laughed outright at that. He was apt to find her unreasonablenessmore charming than irritating. 

"Surely, little woman, that goes without saying. But if the heat istroubling you, and headaches, I like better to have you where you canbe rid of both; and as the notion seems to please you, we'll considerthe matter settled. "

 * * * * *

Between nine and ten that evening, when the three were sittingtogether in the drawing-room, the outer stillness was broken by asound of many footsteps and voices rapidly nearing the house. Nonative crowd this time. The steps and voices were unmistakablyEnglish; and Desmond rose hastily. 

"This must be Rajinder Singh's doing! It looks as if they meant tooverwhelm us in force. "

Evelyn had risen also, with a slight frown between her brows. 

"Can't I go to bed before they come, Theo? I'm very tired, and they'resure to make a dreadful noise. "

"I'm afraid that won't do at all, " he said decisively, a rare note ofreproof in his tone. "They probably won't stop long, and you mustplease stay up till they go. "

As he spoke, Harry Denvil in white Mess uniform, scarlet kummerband, and jingling spurs, plunged into the room. 

"I'm only the advance guard! The whole regiment's coming onbehind--even the Colonel--to drink Miss Meredith's health!" He turnedupon the girl and shook hands with her at great length. "All the same, you know, " he protested laughing, "it's not fair play for _you_ to godoing that sort of thing. Wish I'd had the chance of it myself!"

Such speeches are impossible to answer; and Honor was thankful thatthe main body of troops arrived in time to save her from the futileattempt. 

But she was only at the beginning of her ordeal. 

By the time that Mrs Olliver and six men had wrung her hand withvarying degrees of vigour, each adding a characteristic tribute ofthanks and praise, her cheeks were on fire; and a mist, which shetried vainly to dispel, blurred her vision. 

Through that mist, she was aware of Frank vigorously shaking handswith Desmond, scolding and blessing him in one breath. "Ah, Theo, man, you're a shocking bad lot!" was her sisterly greeting. "Never clearout o' one frying-pan till you're into the next! Thank the Powers MissMeredith was handy. " And swinging round on her heel she accosted thegirl herself. "No mistaking the stock _you_ come of, Honor, me dear!"

Submerged in blushes, Honor could scarce command her voice. "Butreally--I only----"

"You only hit the bull's eye like a man, Miss Meredith, " CaptainOlliver took her up promptly. "The Major never told us he was adding acrack shot to the regiment!" And he swept her a bow that reduced herto silence. 

More overwhelming than all were the few direct words from ColonelBuchanan himself; a tall, hard-featured Scot, so entirely absorbed inhis profession that he never, save of dire necessity, set foot in alady's drawing-room. 

Paul Wyndham introduced him, and moved aside, leaving them together. For an instant he treated the girl to the quiet scrutiny of clear blueeyes, unpleasantly penetrating. He had scarcely looked at her tillnow. Still unreconciled to Desmond's marriage, he had resented theintroduction of a third woman into the regiment; and he found himselfmomentarily bewildered by her beauty. 

"I ought to be better acquainted with you, Miss Meredith, " he said alittle stiffly, sincerity struggling through natural reticence, like alight through a fog. "I'm no lady's man, as you probably know, but Ihad to come and thank you to-night. Desmond's quite my finestofficer--no disrespect to your brother; he knows it as well as Ido----"

"Here you are, Colonel!" Geoff Olliver thrust a long tumbler into hissenior's hand. "We're going to let off steam by drinking MissMeredith's health before we go back. "

Honor looked round hastily, in hopes of effecting an escape, and wasconfronted by Desmond's eyes looking straight into her own. He liftedhis glass with a smile of the frankest friendliness; and the restfollowed his example. 

"Miss Meredith, your very good health. "

The words went round the room in a deep disjointed murmur; and FrankOlliver, stepping impulsively forward, held out her glass to the girl. 

"Here's to your health and good luck, with all my heart, Honor, . . . The Honor o' the regiment!" she added, with a flash of her whiteteeth. 

Uproarious shouts greeted the spontaneous sally. 

"Hear, hear! Well played, indeed, Mrs Olliver! Pity Meredith couldn'thave heard that. "

Olliver laid a heavy hand on Desmond's shoulder. 

"Tell you what, old chap, " he said. "You must come back with us; and, by Jove, we'll make a night of it. Finest possible thing for you aftera week's moping on the sick list; and we'll just keep Mackay hanginground in case you get knocked out of shape. I'll slip into uniformmyself and follow on. That suit you, Colonel?"

"Down to the ground; if Mackay has no objection. "

But Mackay knew his men too well to have anything of the sort; andDesmond's eyes gleamed. 

"How about uniform for me, sir?" he asked. "I could manage it after afashion. "

Colonel Buchanan smiled. 

"No doubt you could! But I'll overlook it to-night. The fellows wantyou. Won't do to keep them waiting!"

Followed a babel of talk and laughter, in the midst of which Honor, who had moved a little apart, became aware that Desmond was at herside. 

"Never mind them, Honor, " he said in a low voice. "They mean it verywell, and they don't realise that it's a little overwhelming for usboth. I won't pile it on by saying any more on my own account. _Wait_till I get a chance to repay you in kind--that's all!"

His words spurred her to a sudden resolve. 

"You have the chance now, if it doesn't seem like taking a meanadvantage of--things. "

"Mean advantages are not in your line. You've only to say the word. "

"Then _stick to the Frontier_!" she answered, an imperative ring inher low voice. "Doesn't to-night convince you that you've no right toleave them all?"

His face grew suddenly grave. 

"The only right is to stand by Ladybird--at all costs. "

"Yes, yes--I know. But remember what I said about her side of it. Giveher the chance to find herself, Theo; and give _me_ your word now tothink no more about leaving the Border. Will you?"

He did not answer at once, nor did he remove his eyes from her face. 

"Do you care so much what I do with the rest of my life?" he said atlast very quietly. 

"Yes--I do; for Ladybird's sake. "

"I see. Well, there's no denying your privilege--now to have somevoice in the matter. I give you my word, and if it turns out amistake, the blame be on my own head. The fellows are making a movenow. I must go. Good-night. "

The men departed accordingly with much clatter of footsteps andjingling of spurs; and only Mrs Olliver remained behind. 

Evelyn Desmond had succeeded in slipping away unnoticed a few minutesearlier. She alone, among them all, had spoken no word of gratitude toher friend. 

CHAPTER IX. 

WE'LL JUST FORGET. 

 "Les petites choses ont leur importance; c'est par elles toujours qu'on se perde. "--DOSTOIEVSKY. 

"So the picnic was a success?"

"Yes, quite. Mrs Rivers was so clever. She paired us off beautifully. My pair was Captain Winthrop of the Ghurkas; an awfully nice man. Hetalked to me the whole time. He knows Theo. Says he's the finestfellow in Asia! Rather nice to be married to the 'finest fellow inAsia, ' isn't it?"

"Decidedly. But I don't think we needed _him_ to tell us that sort ofthing. " A touch of the girl's incurable pride flashed in her eyes. 

"Well, I was pleased all the same. He said he was never so surprisedin his life as when he heard Theo had married; but now he had seen me, he didn't feel surprised any more. "

"That was impertinence. "

"Not a bit! I thought it was rather nice. "

A trifling difference of opinion; but, in point of character, itserved to set the two women miles apart. 

Evelyn's remark scarcely needed a reply; and Honor fell into athoughtful silence. 

She had allowed herself the rare indulgence of a day "off duty. "Instead of accompanying Evelyn to the picnic, she had enjoyed ascrambling excursion with Mrs Conolly--whose friendship was fastbecoming a real possession--and her two big babies; exploringhillsides and ravines; hunting up the rarer wild flowers and ferns;and lunching off sandwiches on a granite boulder overhanginginfinity. This was her idea of enjoying life in the Himalayas; but theJune sun proved a little exhausting; and she was aware of an unusualweariness as she lay back in her canvas chair in the verandah of "TheDeodars, "--a woodland cottage, owing its pretentious name to themagnificent cedars that stood sentinel on either side of it. 

Her eyes turned for comfort and refreshment to the stainless wonder ofthe snows, that were already beginning to don their eveningjewels--coral and amethyst, opal and pearl. The railed verandah, andits sweeping sprays of honeysuckle, were delicately etched upon a skyof warm amber, shading through gradations of nameless colour intoblue, where cloud-films lay like fairy islands in an enchanted sea. Faint whiffs of rose and honeysuckle hovered in the still air, likespirits of the coming twilight, entangling sense and soul in asweetness that entices rather than uplifts. 

Evelyn Desmond, perched lightly on the railings, showed ethereal as alarge white butterfly, in the daintiness of her summer finery againsta background of glowing sky. She swung a lace parasol aimlessly to andfro, and her gaze was concentrated on the buckle of an irreproachableshoe. 

Honor, withdrawing her eyes reluctantly from the brooding peace ofmountain and sky, wondered a little at her pensiveness; wondered alsowhere her thoughts--if mere flittings of the mind are entitled to beso called--had carried her. 

As a matter of fact, she was thinking of unpaid bills; since humanlilies of the field, though they neither toil nor spin, must pay forirreproachable shoes and unlimited summer raiment. 

The girl's own thoughts, as they were apt to do in leisure moments, had wandered to Kohat: to the men who were working with cheerful, matter-of-fact courage in the glare of the little desert-station; andto the one brave woman, who remained in their midst to hearten them byher own indomitable gladness of soul. 

The beauty of the evening bred a longing--natural in one sosympathetic--that they also could be up on this green hill-top, underthe shade of the deodars, enjoying the exquisite repose of it all. 

"Have you heard from Theo this week, Ladybird?" she asked suddenly. Itwas the first time she had used the name, for habit is strong; andEvelyn looked up quickly, the colour deepening in her cheeks. 

"Don't call me Ladybird!" she commanded, with unusual decision. "Itbelongs to Theo. "

Honor noted her rising colour with a smile of approval. 

"I'm sorry, dear, " she said gently. "I quite understand. But--have youheard lately?"

Evelyn's face cleared as readily as a child's. 

"Oh, yes; I forgot to tell you. I had quite a long letter thismorning. Perhaps you would like to read it. "

And drawing an envelope from her pocket she tossed it into Honor'slap. 

The girl glanced down at it quickly; but allowed it to lie thereuntouched. She knew that Desmond wrote good letters, and she wouldhave dearly liked to read this one. But a certain manly strain in herforbade her to trespass on the privacy of a letter written to hiswife. 

"Thank you, " she said; "I think I won't read it, though. I don'tsuppose Theo would care about his letters being passed on to me. Ionly want to know if things are going on all right. "

"Oh, yes; in the usual sort of way. They've had trouble with thosewretched Waziris. Two sentries murdered last week; and some horsesstolen. Oh! and Mrs Olliver has had a bad touch of fever; and there'scholera in the city, but they don't think it'll spread. What agruesome place it is! And what a mercy we're not there now. By theway, " she added, working her parasol into a crack between two boards, "I met the Kresneys as I was coming home. "

"The Kresneys! Here?"

Honor sat suddenly upright, all trace of weariness gone from her face. 

"Yes. They're up for six weeks, and they seemed so pleased to see methat--I asked them in to dinner to-night. "

"Evelyn!"

"Well--why not?" A spark of defiance glinted through the dark curvesof her lashes. 

"You know Theo would hate it. "

"I daresay. But he isn't here; so it can't matter to him. And he neednot know anything about it. "

"My dear! That would be worse than all!"

Evelyn frowned. 

"Really, Honor, for a clever person, you're rather stupid. It would besimply idiotic to tell him what is sure to annoy him, when the thing'sdone and he can't prevent it. "

The girl leaned back with an impatient sigh. 

"If you feel so sure it will annoy him, why on earth do you do it? Heis so good to you in every possible way. "

A great longing came upon her to disclose all that he had been readyto relinquish five weeks ago. 

"_I_ know that without your telling me, " Evelyn retorted sharply. "ButI think I might do as I like just while I'm up here. And I meanto--whatever you say. The Kresneys came here, instead of going toMussoorie, chiefly to see me. I can't ignore them; and I won't. "

"Well, for goodness' sake, don't ask them to the house again, that'sall. " Then, because she could scarcely trust herself to say more onthe subject, and because she had no wish to risk a quarrel, she addedquickly: "A parcel came while we were out. Perhaps you'd like to openit before dinner. "

Evelyn was on her feet at once--the Kresneys forgotten as though theywere not. 

"It must be my new dress for the General's garden-party. How lovely!"

"Another dress? Your almirah's choked with them already. "

"Those are only what I got at Simla last year. "

"You seem to have gone in rather extensively for dresses last year, "Honor remarked, a trifle critically. Since their arrival in Murree shehad become better acquainted with the details of Evelyn's wardrobe;and the knowledge had troubled her not a little. "How about yourtrousseau?"

"Mother gave me hardly _any_ dresses. She said I wouldn't need them onthe Frontier. But I _must_ have decent clothes, even in thewilderness. "

"Yes, I suppose so. Still you will find continual dresses from Simla aterrible drain on a limited allowance. "

A delicate flush crept into Evelyn's cheeks, and her eyes had an oddglitter that came to them when she felt herself hard-pressed, yet didnot intend to give in. 

"What do _you_ know about my allowance?"

"I happen to know the amount of it, " Honor answered quietly. "I alsoknow the cost of clothes such as you have been getting in Simla, and--I am puzzled to see how the two can be made to fit. You do _pay_for your things, I suppose?" she added, with a flash of apprehension. She herself had never been allowed to indulge in bills. 

Evelyn's colour ebbed at the direct question; and she took instantrefuge in anger and matrimonial dignity, as being safer than truth. 

"Really, Honor, you're getting rather a nuisance just lately. Scoldingand preaching never does me a scrap of good--and you know it. What Ido with my allowance isn't anybody's business but my own, and I won'tbe treated as if I were a child. After all"--with a fine mingling ofdignity and scorn--"_I'm_ the married woman. You're only agirl--staying with me; and I think I might be allowed to manage my ownaffairs, without _you_ always criticising and interfering. "

By this time Honor had risen also; a line of sternness hardening herbeautiful mouth. Beneath her sustained cheerfulness lay a passionatetemper; and Evelyn's unexpected attack stung it fiercely into life. Several seconds passed before she could trust herself to speak. 

"Very well, Evelyn, " she said, at length, "from to-day there shall bean end of my criticism and interference. You seem to forget that youasked for my help. But as you don't need it any longer I will handover the account books to you to-morrow morning; and you had bettergive Nazar Khan some orders about dinner. There isn't very much in thehouse. "

Only once before had Evelyn seen her friend roused to realindignation; and she was fairly frightened at the effect of her ownhasty words. 

"Oh, Honor, don't be so angry as that!" she pleaded brokenly. "Youknow I simply can't----"

But with a decisive gesture Honor set her aside, and walking straightpast her, mounted the steep staircase to her own room. 

Arrived there, she stood still as one dazed, her hands pressed againsther temples. There were times when this girl felt a little afraid ofher own vehemence; which, but for the heritage of a strong will, andher unfailing reliance on a Higher Judgment, might indeed have proveddisastrous for herself and others. 

With controlled deliberation of movement, she drew a chair to thehired dressing-table, which served as davenport, and began to write. 

She set down date and address and the words, "My dear Theo, "--no more. What was it she meant to say to him? That from to-day Evelyn must beleft to manage her affairs alone; that she could no longer beresponsible for her friend's doings, social or domestic; but that shewas willing to remain with her for the season, if he wished it? Howwere such things to be worded? Was it even possible to say them atall?

Her eye fell upon the envelope containing his last letter. Mechanically she drew it out and read it through again very slowly. Itwas a long letter, full of their mutual interests; of the music andthe Persian, --which she was now studying under his tuition;--ofWyndham, Denvil, Mrs Olliver, and his men; very little about himself. But it was written as simply and directly as he spoke, --the only formof letter that annihilates space; and it was signed, "Always yourfriend, Theo Desmond. "

Before she reached the signature the fire had faded from her eyes. Shereturned it to the envelope, took up the sheet on which three lineswere written, and tearing it across and across, dropped it into thecane basket at her side. 

"I can't do it, " she murmured. "What right have I to let him callhimself my friend, if I fail him the first time things take anunpleasant turn?"

She decided, nevertheless, that Evelyn might well be allowed torealise her own helplessness a little before the reins were againtaken out of her hands. Then she went downstairs and out into thegolden evening, to cool her cheeks and quiet her pulses by half anhour of communing with the imperturbable peace of the hills. 

Evelyn, standing alone in the drawing-room, bewildered and helpless asa starfish stranded by the tide, heard Honor's footsteps pass the doorand die away in the distance. An unreasoning fear seized her that shemight be going over to Mrs Conolly to stay there for good; and at thethought a sob rose in her throat. Flinging aside her parasol, whichfell rattling to the floor, she sank into the nearest chair and buriedher face in the cushion. 

She knew right well that her words had been ungrateful and unjust; yetin her heart she was more vexed with Honor for having pushed her intoa corner than with herself for her defensive flash of resentment. Morethan all was she overwhelmed by a sense of utter helplessness, of notknowing where to turn or what to do next. 

"Oh, if only Theo were here!" she lamented. "He would never be unkindto me, I know. " Yet the ground of her woe reminded her sharply that ifher husband had knowledge of the bills lying at that moment in herdavenport, he might possibly be so unkind to her--as she phrasedit--that she did not dare tell him the truth. He had spoken to heronce on the subject of debt in no uncertain terms; and she hadresolved thenceforth to deal with her inevitable muddles in her ownway, --the simple fatal way of letting things slide, and hoping thatthey would somehow come right in the end. But there seemed no presentprospect of such a consummation; and for a while she gave herself upto a luxury of self-pity. Tides in her mind ebbed and flowed aimlesslyas seaweed. Everything was hopeless and miserable. It was uselesstrying to be good; and she supposed Honor would never help her again. 

Then her thoughts stumbled on the Kresneys. It must be nearlyhalf-past six, and dinner was at a quarter past eight. But, as thingsnow stood, their coming was impossible. She must send them a note tosay Honor was not well; for who could tell how this new, angry Honormight choose to behave if they arrived in spite of all?

The need for action roused her, and she went over to her davenport. But on lifting the lid her eyes fell upon the little sheaf ofbills--and again the Kresneys faded into insignificance. She took upthe detested slips of paper; laid them out one by one on the table;and, sitting down before them, contemplated them with knitted browsand a hopeless droop of her lips. 

No need to look into them in detail. She knew their contents, and thesum of them by heart. She knew that they amounted in all to more thansix hundred rupees; and that another four hundred, possibly more, wasstill owing in different directions. 

Where in all the world was such a sum to be found without Theo's help?An appeal to Honor would be worse than useless. Honor was so stupidabout such things. Her one idea would be immediate confession. A hazynotion haunted Evelyn that people who were in straits borrowed moneyfrom somewhere, or some one. But her knowledge of this mysterioustransaction went no further; and even she was able to perceive thatfrom so nebulous a starting-point no definite advance could be made. She had also heard of women selling their jewels, and wondered vaguelywho were the convenient people who bought them; though thisalternative did not commend itself to her in any case. 

Yet by some means the money must be found. Her earliest creditors werebeginning to assert themselves; to thank her in advance for sums whichshe saw no hope of sending them; and, worse than all, she lived indaily dread lest any of them should be inspired to apply to Theohimself. Look where she would a blank wall confronted her; and in themidst of the blankness she sat, a dainty, dejected figure, with herpitiless pile of bills. 

"Krizney, Miss Sahib, _argya_. "[19]

[19] Has come. 

The kitmutgar's voice jerked her back to the necessities of themoment. 

Well, mercifully, Honor was out. It would be a comfort to see anyone, and get away from her own thoughts. Also she could explain aboutthe dinner; and, hastily gathering up her papers, she sent out thecustomary "salaam. "

"Oh, Mrs Desmond, I _do_ hope I am not disturbing you. " Miss Kresneycame forward with a rather too effusive warmth of manner. "But youforgot to mention if you dine at a quarter to eight or a quarter past;and I was not certain if you meant us to dress or not. "

Miss Kresney would probably have been amazed could she have seen thesetwo Englishwomen dining together. 

"Why, yes, " Evelyn answered simply, "we always dress in the evening, Honor and I. But--please don't think me very rude--I'm afraid I mustask you and your brother to put off coming till--some other night. Iwas just going to send you a note; because Honor is--not at all well. She has been out in the sun all day, and her head is bad. She mustkeep quiet to-night. You see, don't you, that I can't help it? Itisn't my fault. "

Linda Kresney's face had fallen very blank; but she pulled herselftogether, and called up a cold little smile. 

"Of course not, Mrs Desmond. How could I think it is _your_ fault, when you have always been so veree kind to us? We often say it is apity every one is not so kind as you are. I am sorry Miss Meredith isnot well. " An acid note invaded her voice. She had her own suspicionsof Honor, as being too obviously Captain Desmond's friend. "My brotherwill be terribly disappointed. No doubt we can come some day vereesoon instead. "

But Evelyn was too self-absorbed to detect the obvious hint. 

"Yes--I hope so, " she agreed, without enthusiasm; then, seeing puzzleddissatisfaction in Linda Kresney's eyes, made haste to add: "Perhapsyou'll stay a little now, as you are not coming to-night. It's quiteearly still, and I'm all alone. "

Miss Kresney sat down with unconcealed alacrity, and Evelyn followedher example, laying her hand on the tell-tale papers. The trouble ofher mind showed so clearly in her eyes and lips, that the girl, whohad begun to grow really fond of her, was emboldened to risk a vagueproffer of sympathy. She had never as yet found the opportunity herbrother so desired of making herself useful; and she was quick-wittedenough to perceive that Fate might be favouring her at last. 

"I am afraid you have been worried about something, Mrs Desmond, " shebegan warily. "Perhaps after all I had better not stay here, botheringyou to make talk. Unless perhaps--I can help you in any way. I shouldbe very glad to, if you will not think me officious to say so. Icannot bear to see you look so unhappee. It is not bad news fromKohat, I hope?"

Evelyn's smile was a very misty affair. 

"Oh, no--it's not that, " she said, and broke off short. 

Miss Kresney waited for more--her face and figure one fervent note ofinterrogation. She had tact enough to realise that she could not pressverbal inquiry further. 

But her air of interested expectation was not lost on Evelyn Desmond. A pressing need was urging her to unburden her mind through thecomforting channels of speech. Cut off, by her own act, from the twostrong natures on whom she leaned for sympathy and help, thereremained only this girl, who would certainly give her the one, andmight possibly give her the other, in the form of practicalinformation. It was this last thought that turned the scale in MissKresney's favour; and Evelyn spoke. 

"I think it's very nice of you to mind that I am unhappy, and to wantto help me. But I don't know whether you can; because it's--it's aboutmoney. "

The merest shadow of astonishment flittered across Miss Kresney'sface. But she said no word, and Evelyn went on--her nervousness givingway rapidly before the relief of speech. 

"I have a whole heap of bills here, for dresses and things, that Isimply can't pay for out of my allowance. It's not because my husbanddoesn't give me enough, " she added, with a pathetic flash of loyalty. "He gives me all he can possibly spare. But I'm stupid andunpractical. I just order clothes when I want them, and never thinkabout the price till the bill comes in, and then it's too late! Mymother did it all before I married. I wish to goodness she had taughtme to manage for myself; but it's no use thinking of that now. Thequestion is--where can I get money to pay these bills withouttroubling my husband about them. I must find some way to do it, only--I don't the least know how. Aren't there natives out here whobuy people's jewels, or--or lend them money when they want it in ahurry? I thought--perhaps--you might know whether I could manage to doit--up here?"

The surprise in Miss Kresney's face deepened to alarm. 

"Oh, but indeed, Mrs Desmond, you cannot do anything like that. Thenative money-lenders are veree bad people to deal with; and they asksuch big interest, that if you once start with them it is almostimpossible to get free again. You say you are inexperienced aboutmoney, and that would make it far worse. You cannot do anything ofthat kind--reallee. "

Evelyn rose in an access of helpless impatience. 

"But if I can't do that, what _can_ I do?" she cried. "I've got to do_some_thing--somehow, don't you see? Some of them are beginning tobother me already, and--it frightens me. "

A long silence followed upon her simple, impassioned statement of thecase. Miss Kresney was meditating a startling possibility. 

"There is only one thing that I can suggest, " she ventured at length, "and that is I could lend you some money myself. I haven't a greatdeal. But if three hundred rupees would help you to settle some of thebills, I would feel only too proud if you would take it. There will beno interest to pay; and you could let me have it back in small sumsjust whenever you could manage it. "

With a gasp of incredulity Evelyn sank back into her chair. 

"D'you _mean_ that?"

"Of course I do. "

"Oh, Miss Kresney, I don't know why you should be so kind to me! Howcan I take such a lot of money--from you?"

"Why not, if I am glad to give it?"

Indeed the sum seemed to her an inconsiderable trifle beside thecertainty of Owen's praise, of Owen's entire satisfaction. 

For a clear three minutes Evelyn Desmond sat silent, irresolute; hermind a formless whirl of eagerness and uncertainty, hope and fear. Thenovelty of the transaction rather than any glimmering of thecomplications it might engender held her trembling on the brink; andMiss Kresney awaited her decision with downcast eyes, her fingersmechanically plaiting and unplaiting the silken fringe of thetable-cloth. 

Sounds crept in from without and peopled the waiting stillness. EvelynDesmond had no faintest forewarning of the grave issues that hung uponher answer, yet she was unaccountably afraid. Her driven heart criedout for the support of her husband's presence; and her voice, whenwords came at last, was pitifully unsteady. 

"It is so difficult not to say Yes. "

"Why will you not say it, then? And it would all be comfortablysettled. "

"Would it? I don't seem able to believe that. Only if I _do_ say Yes, you must promise not to tell--your brother. "

"I am afraid that would not be possible. How could I arrange such athing without letting my brother know about it?"

"Then I can't take the money. "

Evelyn's voice was desperate but determined. Some spark of intuitionenabled her to see that any intrusion of Kresney set the matter beyondthe pale of possible things; and nothing remained for Linda butcompromise or retreat. 

She unhesitatingly chose the former. A few reassuring words would costlittle to utter; and if circumstances should demand a convenientforgetfulness, none but herself need ever be aware of the fact. Sheleaned across the table, and her tone was a triumph of open-heartedsympathy. 

"Mrs Desmond, you know quite well that I cannot leave you unhappy likethis. If you are so determined that my brother must not know, I thinkI could manage without his help. Come to the Hotel to-morrow athalf-past ten, and we will send off three hundred rupees to those whoare troubling you most for payment. "

Miss Kresney was as good as her word. She drew three hundred rupees innotes from her own small bank account, and herself went with Evelyn tothe post-office whence they were safely despatched to Simla. 

Some three evenings later, Owen Kresney bade his sister good-nightwith a quite phenomenal display of affection. 

"You're a regular little trump, Linda!" he declared. "I never gave youcredit for so much good sense. By Jove! I'd give a month's pay for asight of Desmond's face if he ever finds _this_ out! I expect hestints that poor little woman and splashes all the money on poloponies. Glad you were able to help her; and whatever you do, don't lether pay you back too soon. If you're short of cash, you've only to askme. "

 * * * * *

For the space of a week Honor held inflexibly aloof; and the effort itcost her seemed out of all proportion to the mildness of thepunishment inflicted. It is an old story--the inevitable price paid bylove that is strong enough to chastise. But this great paradox, thecorner-stone of man's salvation, is a stumbling-block to lessernatures. In Evelyn's eyes Honor was merely cruel, and her own week ofindependence a nightmare of helpless irritation. She made one effortat remonstrance; and its futility crushed her to earth. 

During the evening of their talk the matter had been tacitly avoidedbetween them; but when, on the following morning, Honor laid books andbills upon the davenport where Evelyn sat writing, she caughtdesperately at the girl's hand. 

"Honor, it isn't fair. How _can_ you be so unkind?"

Honor drew her hand decisively away. 

"Please let the subject alone, " she said coolly. "If you persist intalking of it, you will drive me to go and sit in my own room--that'sall. "

A week later, however, when she returned from a ride to find Evelynagain at the detested davenport, her head bowed upon her arms, like aflower broken with the wind, all the inherent motherhood in her roseup and overflowed. Hastily crossing the room she knelt down beside thesmall tragic figure and kissed a pearl-white fragment of forehead; theonly spot available at the moment. "Poor darling!" she whispered. "Isit really as bad as all that?"

Caresses from Honor were so rare that for an instant Evelyn was takenaback; then she laid her head on the girl's shoulder with a sigh ofpure content. 

"Oh, Honor! the world seems all broken to pieces when _you_ are unkindto me!"

Honor kissed her again. 

"I won't be unkind to you any more; and we'll just forget from thisminute that it ever happened at all. "

But to forget is not to undo; and during their brief estrangementEvelyn Desmond had added a link to the chain of Fate, whose strongestcoils are most often wrought by our own unskilful fingers. 

CHAPTER X. 

A SQUARE BARGAIN. 

 "The faith of men that ha' brothered men, By more than easy breath; And the eyes o' men that ha' read wi' men, In the open books of death. " --KIPLING. 

"Behold! Captain Sahib, --there where the sky touches earth. In thespace of half an hour we arrive. "

Desmond lifted sun-weary eyes to the horizon, and nodded. 

When a man is consumed with thirst, and scorched to the bone, by fivehours of riding through a furnace seven times heated in the teeth of ablistering wind, he is chary of speech; and the two rode forward insilence--mere specks upon the emptiness of earth and sky--keepingtheir horses to the long-distance canter that kills neither man norbeast. A detachment of forty sabres followed in their wake; and therhythmical clatter rang monotonously in their ears. 

The speck on the horizon was an outpost--a boundary mark ofempire, --where a little party of men watched, night and day, for theleast sign of danger from the illusive quiet of the hills. 

It is these handfuls of men, natives of India all, stationed in stonewatch-towers twenty miles apart along the Border, who keep the gatewayof India barred; and who will keep it barred against all intruders forall time. The unobtrusive strength of India's Frontier amazes thenew-comer. But only those who have spent their best years in itsservice know the full price paid for the upkeep of that same strengthin hardship, unremitting toil, and the lives of picked men. 

As the riders neared the post its outline showed, stern and clear-cut, against the blue of the sky. A single circular room, loop-holed andbattlemented, set upon an outward sloping base of immense solidity, and surrounded by a massive stone wall:--a tower in which ten mencould hold their own against five hundred. The look-out sentry, sighting the detachment afar off, gave the word to his companions, wholowered the ladder that served them for staircase; and when Desmond'sparty drew rein the door in the wall stood open to receive them. 

During the halt that followed, the men, having fed and watered theirhorses, took what rest they might in patches of burning shadow withinthe wall. Though the sun-saturated masonry breathed fire, it served toshelter them from the withering wind that scours the Border at thisfiery time of year. 

Desmond, who had breakfasted five hours earlier on stale bread and afew sardines, lunched, with small appetite, on biscuits and a slab ofchocolate, and moistened his parched throat with tepid whisky-and-water. Quenching his thirst was an achievement past hoping for till Kohatitself should be reached. 

He had left the station with his detachment early on the previous day;had relieved four outposts between dawn and dusk, covering eightymiles of desert road, with four brief halts for rest; and had spent anight of suffocating wakefulness in a sun-baked windowless room, builtout from the base of the last post relieved. It was all in the day'swork--as Frontier men understand work. The exposure and long hours inthe saddle had little effect upon his whipcord and iron frame: but asharp attack of fever--unrecorded in his letter to his wife--hadslackened his alertness of body and spirit; and it was with an unusualsense of relief that he faced the last twenty-mile stretch of road, leaving behind him six fresh men to take up the task of watching theblank, unchanging face of the hills. 

Three hours later, the little party turned their horses' heads towardsKohat. The sun still smote the uncomplaining earth, and many miles ofriding lay before them. But at least it was the beginning of the end;a fact which the two stout-hearted chargers seemed to recognise asclearly as their riders. The Ressaldar, who had not failed to note hisCaptain's slight change of bearing, proposed a short cut acrosscountry well known to himself. 

"Hazúr, " he urged, "there runs a long deep nullah, straight as alance, across the plain; and as the sun falls lower, it would givesome measure of shade. "

"Well spoken, Ressaldar Sahib! I have had my fill of the road. I'm forthe nullah. Come on, men. "

And, striking out across country, they vanished from the earth'ssurface, entering one of those giant clefts in the clay soil formed bythe early downrush of torrents from the hills. 

Suddenly, in the midst of a swinging canter, the Ressaldar reined inhis horse, and the rest followed suit. The old Sikh threw up his head, as a stag will do at the first whisper of danger. In the strong lighthis chiselled face, with its grey beard scrupulously parted and drawnup under his turban, showed lifeless as a statue; and his eyes had thefar-off intentness of one who listens with every fibre of his being. 

Desmond watched him in a growing bewilderment that verged onimpatience. 

"What's up now?" he demanded sharply. 

But no flicker disturbed the rigid face: the keen eyes gave no sign. The old man raised a hand as if enjoining silence, dismounted hastily, and, kneeling down, pressed his ear close against the ground. 

Desmond's suspense was short-lived but keen. 

In less than ten seconds the Ressaldar was beside him, one hand on hisbridle, a consuming anxiety in his eyes. 

"Hazúr, it is a spate from the hills, " he said between quick breaths. "It is coming with the speed of ten thousand devils and there are fivemiles to go before we can leave the nullah. "

"Mount, then, " the Englishman replied with cool decision. "We can butride. "

And swiftly, as tired horses could lay legs to ground, they rode. 

Desmond could catch no sound as yet of the oncoming danger; but thepractised ears of the native detected its increase, even through therattle of hoofs that beat upon the brain like panic terror madeaudible. 

"Faster, --faster!" he panted. His Captain's danger was the onecoherent thought in his mind. Desmond merely nodded reassurance; andshifting a little in his saddle, eased matters as far as possible for_Badshah Pasand_. [20]

[20] Beloved of kings. 

The ground raced beneath their horses' hoofs. The serene strip of skyraced above their heads. The imprisoning walls fell apart before theireyes, seeming to divide like a cleft stick as they drew near, andreeling away on either hand as they passed on. All things in earth andheaven seemed fleeing in mortal haste save only themselves. 

Theo Desmond heard the voice of the enemy at last:--an ominous roar, growing inexorably louder every minute. At the sound his head took amore assured lift; his mouth a firmer line; and the fire ofdetermination deepened in his eyes. 

By a movement of the rein he urged Badshah Pasand to renewed effort. But the devoted animal was nearing the end of his tether, and hisrider knew it. Thick spume flakes blew backward from his lips, and thesawing motion of his head told its own tale. 

Sher Dil, who was still going lustily, gained upon him by a neck, andthe Ressaldar turned in his saddle. 

"The spurs, Hazúr--the _spurs_!" he entreated, knowing well hisCaptain's abstemiousness in this regard. 

But Desmond shook his head. Badshah Pasand was doing his utmost; andneither man nor beast can do more. He merely rose in the stirrups, pressed his heels lightly against the quivering flanks and, leaningforward, spoke a few words of encouragement almost in the charger'sear. 

The sensitive animal sprang forward with a last desperate output ofstrength; and in the same instant a hoarse shout broke from RajinderSingh. 

"An opening--an opening, Captain Sahib! By the mercy of God we aresaved!"

Five minutes later the whole party drew rein on the upper levels ofearth, and their sometime pursuer swept tumultuously onward fifteenfeet below. 

Desmond's eyes had an odd light in them as he turned from the swirlingwaters to the impassive face of the man who had saved their lives. 

"I do--not--forget, " he said with quiet emphasis. 

The old Sikh shook his head with a rather uncertain smile. 

"True talk, Hazúr. I had known it without assurance. Yet was mine ownhelp no great matter. It was written that my Captain Sahib should notdie thus!"

"That may be, " Desmond answered gravely, for he had been strangelyupheld by the same conviction. "Yet there be also--these others. In mythinking it is no small _matter_ that, except for your quickness ofmind and hearing, forty-four good men and horses would now be at themercy of that torrent. But this is no time for words. It still remainsto reach Kohat before sundown. "

The sun was slipping behind the hills, with the broad smile of atyrant who fully enjoys the joke, when Desmond drew up before his ownverandah and slid to the ground. 

"Thank God that's over!" he muttered audibly. But he did not at onceenter the house. His first care, as always, was for the horse he rode;and with him it was no mere case of the "merciful man, " but of sheerlove for that unfailing servant of the human race. 

He accompanied Badshah Pasand to the stable, superintended the removalof his saddle, and looked him carefully all over. That done, he issuedexplicit orders for his treatment and feeding: the great charger--asthough fully aware of his master's solicitude, --nuzzling amouse-coloured nose against his shoulder the while. 

Arrived in the comparative coolness of the hall, he shouted for adrink, and a bath. Then, turning towards the drawing-room, promisedhimself a few minutes blessed relaxation in the depths of hisfavourite chair. 

But passing between the gold-coloured curtains he saw that whichchecked his advance, and banished all thought of relaxation from hisbrain. 

Harry Denvil--whose buoyancy and simplicity of heart had led Desmondto christen him the Boy--sat alone at Evelyn's bureau, his headbetween his hands, despair in every line of his figure. 

Desmond regarded him thoughtfully, marvelling that the sounds of hisown arrival should have passed unheard. Then he went forward, and laidhis hand on the Boy's shoulder. 

"Harry! I don't seem to recognise _you_ in that attitude. Anythingseriously wrong?"

Denvil started, and revealed a face of dogged dejection. 

"You here?" he said listlessly. "Never heard you come in. "

"That's obvious. But--about yourself?"

The Boy choked down a sigh. 

"Why the deuce should I bore you with myself, when you're hot andtired? I've been a confounded fool; if not worse, and the devil's inthe luck wherever I turn. "

But Desmond waited in expectant silence for the Boy's trouble tooverflow. While he waited, the coveted "drink" arrived, and he emptiedthe long tumbler almost at a gulp. The station had run out of ice--acheerful habit of Frontier stations; but at least the liquid was cooland stinging. 

"Well?" he said at length, Denvil having returned to his formerattitude. "I want something more explicit. How am I to help you, ifyou slam the door in my face?"

"Don't see how you can help me. I've only been . . . A great many kindsof a fool: and _you_----"

"Well, what of me? I've been plenty of kinds of fool in my time, Iassure you. Money's the backbone of your trouble, no doubt. Nothingworse, I hope?"

Denvil's honest eyes met his own without flinching. 

"No, on my honour--nothing worse. The money's bad enough. " And thetrouble came out in a quick rush of words--explanatory, contrite, despairing--all in one breath. For the Boy had Irish blood in hisveins; and the initial difficulty over, he found it an unspeakablerelief to disburden his soul to the man who had "brothered" him eversince he joined the Force. 

Desmond, perceiving that the overflow, once started, was likely to beexhaustive and complete, took out pipe and tobacco, balanced himselfon the arm of a chair, and listened gravely to the Boy's disjointedstory. 

It was a long story, and a commonplace one, if even the most trivialrecord of human effort and failure can be so styled. It was the storyof half the subalterns in our Imperial Army--of small pay, engulfed byheavy expenses, avoidable and unavoidable; the upkeep of much needlessuniform; too big a wine bill at Mess; polo ponies, and other luxuriousnecessities of Indian life, bought on credit; the inevitable appeal tothe "_shroff_, "[21] involving interest upon interest; the finaldesperate attempt to mend matters by high stakes at cards, and fitful, injudicious backing of horses, most often with disastrous results. 

[21] Native money-lender. 

"Have you the smallest idea what the total damage amounts to?" askedDesmond, when all was said. "I'm bound to know everything now. "

Denvil nodded. 

"Close on fifteen hundred, I think, " he answered, truthfully. 

"Why, in Heaven's name, didn't you tell me all this sooner?"

"Oh, I kept hoping to get square somehow--without that. I wanted tostay in your good books; and I saw you were rather down on chaps whoare casual about money. But I seem to be made that way, and----"

"So are most of us, my dear chap. But it's up to you to make yourselfsome other way, if you don't want to come a cropper and leave theService. I hope I am no Pharisee, but I've been reared to believe thatliving in debt is an aristocratic, and rather mean form of theft. Mynotion of you doesn't square with that; and I know a good man when Isee one. You'll never mend matters, I assure you, by playing the foolover horses and cards. How about your mother?"

Denvil looked down at the blank sheet of foreign note-paper beforehim, and answered nothing. He was the only son of his mother, and shewas a widow. 

"Can't you see that the fact of your having no father to pull you upsharp puts you on your honour to keep straight in every way, on heraccount? Does she know anything about all this?"

"How _could_ I tell her?" the Boy murmured, without looking up. "Shethinks me no end of a fine chap; and--and--I'm hanged if I know how toanswer her letters since--things have got so bad----"

"When did you write last?"

"About six weeks ago. "

Desmond flung out an oath. 

"Confound you!" he cried hotly. "What do you think she's imagining bynow? All manner of hideous impossibilities. I suppose you never gave_that_ a thought----"

The Boy looked up quickly, pain and pleading in his blue eyes. "I say, Desmond, don't hit so straight. I know I've been a brute to her; and Ifeel bad enough about it, without being slanged--by _you_. "

Theo Desmond's face softened, and he took the Boy's shoulders betweenhis hands. 

"My dear lad, " he said gently. "I'm sorry if I hit too hard. But Ifeel rather strongly on that subject. I've no wish to slang you. Ionly want to set you on your feet, and _keep you_ there. So we may aswell get to business at once. "

"Set me on my feet! How the devil's _that_ to be done?"

Desmond smiled. 

"It's simply a question of making up one's mind to things. In thefirst place we must sell Roland. He's the best pony you have. "

Harry straightened himself sharply, but Desmond's gesture commandedsilence. 

"It's a cruel wrench, I know, " he said gently. "Few men understandthat better than myself. But it's all you can do. And you're bound todo it. You can advertise him as trained by me. He's safe to fetchseven hundred that way. "

Denvil bent his head in desperate resignation. 

"You are down on a fellow, Desmond. How about the other eight?"

"That will be--my affair. "

Again the Boy was startled into protest. 

"Look here! That's impossible. I couldn't pay you back within the nextthree years. "

"Did I say anything about paying me back?"

"_Desmond_--you don't mean----?"

Their eyes met, and Denvil was answered. He brought his fist down onthe bureau with such force that Evelyn's knick-knacks danced again. 

"By God, I won't have it!" he protested passionately. "I'll not takesuch a sum of money from you. "

Desmond's smile showed both approval and amusement. 

"No call for violence, Boy! I told you my mind was made up; and it'sfolly wasting powder and shot against a stone wall. "

"Look here, though--can you manage it--easily?"

"Yes, I can manage it. " And in the rush of relief Harry failed to notethe significant omission of the adverb. "But it's to be a squarebargain between us. No more _shroffs_; no more betting, or I come downon you like a ton of coals for my eight hundred. Stick to whist andpolo in playtime. Polish up your Pushtoo, and get into closer touchwith your Pathans. Start Persian with me, if you like, and replaceRoland with the money you get for passing. But first of all write toyour mother, and tell her the chief part of the truth. Not my share init, please. That remains between ourselves and--my wife. She'llunderstand, never fear. Now--shake hands on that, and stick to it, will you?"

"Desmond, you _are_ a trump!"

"No need for compliments between you and me, Harry. Shut up and get onwith your letter. "

Then, because his mind was freed from anxiety, he realised that theBoy's hand felt like hot parchment, and that his eyes were unusuallybright. 

"You've got fever on you, " he said brusquely. "Feel bad?"

"Pretty average. My head's been going like an engine these two days. Couldn't eat anything yesterday or get a wink of sleep last night. That's what set my conscience stirring perhaps. "

Desmond laughed. 

"Likely as not! I'm off for Mackay all the same. Get into my chair andstay there till further orders. Don't bother your head about thatletter. It shan't miss the mail. I'll write it myself to-night. "

An invisible reminder from the doorway that the Heaven-born's bath hadlong been waiting, elicited a peremptory order for the Demon; and AmarSingh departed, mystified but obedient. The Sahib he worshipped, withthe implicit worship of his race, was a very perplexing person attimes. 

James Mackay's verdict--given well out of the patient's hearing--wasimmediate and to the point. 

"Typhoid, of course--104°. Fool of a boy not to have sent for mesooner. Ought to have been in bed two days ago. Get him there sharp, and do what you can with wet sheets and compresses. I'll wire for anurse, but we shan't get one. Never do. Not a ounce of ice in theplace, and won't be for three days. That's always the way. He'll keepyou on the go all night by the looks of him. May as well let the Majordo most of it. You'd be none the worse for a few hours in bedyourself. "

A certain lift of Desmond's head signified tacit denial, and theastute Scotsman knew better than to insist. Meeting Wyndham at thegate, he counselled a policy of non-resistance. 

"The fellow's overdone without knowing it, " he said. "Take my advice, man, and let him gang his ain gait. Fever or no, he's hard as nails, and he'll be glad enough to knock under in twenty-four hours' time. "

Throughout that night of anxious battling with the fire of fever thetwo Englishmen seemed translated into mechanical contrivances for theadministering of milk, brandy, and chicken-broth; for the incessantchanging of soaked sheets, that were none too cool at best; and forallaying, as far as might be, a thirst that no water on earth canquench. 

Nothing draws men into closer union than a common danger, or a commonanxiety; and in the past twelve years these two had stood shoulder toshoulder through both many times over. But their zeal produced nomanifest results. Denvil's temperature rose steadily, and his stressof mind broke out in a semi-coherent babble of remorse andself-justification, of argument and appeal, of desperate reckonings inregard to ways and means. Desmond left his station by the bed andcrossed over to his friend, who was noiselessly washing a cup andsaucer. 

"Don't hear any more of that than you can help. Fact, you might aswell take your chance of a short rest till he's quieter. I'll come andtell you, no fear. "

Paul glanced up with his slow smile from the saucer he was polishingwith elaborate care. 

"On your word, Theo?"

"On my word. "

And he retired obediently to his own room--the room that in the coldweather had belonged to Honor Meredith; that, even now, empty casketthough it was, awoke in him a subtle sense of her presence; of thestrength and cheerfulness that crowned her beauty like a diadem, andtransformed his outlook on life. 

The letter to Mrs Denvil was written in the small hours. Harry neverdiscovered its contents; but his mother, after reading it half a dozentimes, locked it up with a hoard of sacred treasures pertaining to herboy. And soon after six, in the pitiless gold of dawn, the two mencantered leisurely down to early parade. 

Here Desmond's attention was arrested by the absence of RajinderSingh. Hailing a lesser native officer, he learnt that the Ressaldarhad been ill with sun-fever all night, and was still quite unfit forwork. Hindus are creatures of little or no stamina, and they go downlike mown grass before the unhealthy heat of the Frontier. 

Desmond despatched a message to the stricken man, adding that hehimself would come to make inquiry before eleven o'clock. On hisreturn he found Harry temporarily quieter, and fallen into a lightsleep. 

"I must see Frank about him, " he reflected, "on my way back from theLines. " For Frank was the regimental standby in every emergency, andwould claim the lion's share of the nursing as a matter of course. 

True to his word, Desmond was back on the deserted parade-ground byhalf-past ten, his syce pursuing him closely, a flat paper parcelunder his arm. It contained a full-length photo of himself in thesilver frame that had held his mother's picture, because frames werenot to be procured at an hour's notice in Kohat, and he had a greatwish that his gift should be complete: a lasting memento--such as theold Sikh would keenly appreciate--of their stirring ride, and of thefact that he owed his life to the man's remarkable quickness of earand brain. 

Rajinder Singh lived alone; for the Sikh, when he enters Imperialservice, leaves his wife behind in her own village. His one-roomed hutwas saturated with heat, and almost devoid of light. It contained achair, a strip of matting, and a low string-bed, with red cotton quiltand legs of scarlet lacquer. Mud walls and floor alike werescrupulously clean. Sacred vessels, for cooking and washing, werestowed away out of reach of defilement. Above his bed thesimple-hearted soldier had nailed a crude coloured print of the_Kaiser-i-Hind_ in robes and crown; and on the opposing wall hung atawdry looking-glass, almost as dear to his heart. 

The Sirdar was nominally in bed; that is to say, he lay on the barestrings, beneath his cotton quilt, fully dressed in loose white tunicand close-fitting trousers. His turban alone had been discarded, andstood ready-folded beside him, a miracle of elaborate precision. 

At the sound of hoofs he sat up instantly, his uncut hair and beardflowing down to his waist. In less than twenty seconds both had beentwisted to a deft knot high on the head, his turban adjusted at anirreproachable angle; and, as Desmond's figure darkened the doorway, he staggered to his feet and saluted with a trembling hand. 

"Sit down, sit down!" his Captain commanded him; and he obeyed, rathersuddenly, with a rueful smile. 

"The years steal away my strength, Hazúr. A little fever, and my bonesbecome as water--yea, though I had once the might of ten in thisdried-up arm. "

Desmond smiled and shook his head. 

"No reason to speak evil of the years, after yesterday, and the feverhath the power of seven devils over any man. I have been all nightbeside Denvil Sahib, who lieth without sense and strength thismorning, young as he is. "

"Denvil Sahib! I had not known. Is it fever also?"

"Yes, --the great fever. A matter of many weeks, and sore trouble ofmind; for disease takes strong hold upon the strong. And what willcome to the squadron, with both my troop commanders laid in theirbeds?"

"_Na_, --na, Hazúr. I will arise, even as I am----"

"That you will not, Sirdar Sahib, " Desmond interposed with kindlydecision; "we will rather give Bishan Singh a chance to prove that heis fit for promotion. I have had the assurance from him many times inwords. Now I will have it in deeds--the fittest language for asoldier. "

The deep-set eyes gleamed approval. 

"Great is the wisdom of the Captain Sahib, understanding thedeceitfulness of man's heart. Bishan Singh's tongue is as a horsewithout bit or bridle. If head and hand carry him as far, he will dowell. "

"True talk, " Desmond answered, smiling. Then with the incurablediffidence of the Englishman when he is moved to do a gracious action, he held out his parcel. "See here, Rajinder Singh. This is a smallmatter enough for your acceptance. A token merely that--I do notforget. "

"_Hazúr!_"

The eagerness of a child transfigured the man's weatherbeaten face, and his fingers plucked unsteadily at the string. 

Desmond took out a knife and slit it without a word. 

For a long moment Rajinder Singh gazed upon the miracle before him insilent wonder. To the unsophisticated native--and there are happilymany left in India--a photograph remains an abiding miracle; a fact tobe accepted and reverenced without explanation, like theinconsistencies of the gods. 

"In very truth, it is the Captain Sahib himself!" he muttered with theair of one who makes an amazing discovery. Then, grasping hispossession in both hands, he held it out at arm's length, examiningevery detail with loving care; glancing from the counterfeit to theoriginal as if to satisfy himself that the artist had omitted nothing;for Desmond was wearing the undress uniform of the picture. 

"_Bahut, bahut salaam_, [22] Sahib!" he broke out in a tremulousfervour of gratitude. "It is your Honour's self, as I said, lackingonly speech. Feature for feature--cord for cord. All things arefaithfully set down. Behold, even these marks upon the scabbard, --thevery scar upon your Honour's hand! Now, indeed, hath God favoured mebeyond deserving; for my Captain Sahib abideth under this my roofuntil I die. "

[22] Many, many thanks. 

Rising unsteadily, in defiance of Desmond's mute protest, he removedthe cherished looking-glass, hung the photo in its place, and, drawinghimself up to his full six-feet-two of height, gravely saluted it. 

"_Salaam, hamara_, [23] Captain Sahib Bahadur!"

[23] Salaam, my Captain Sahib. 

Then he turned to find Desmond, who had risen also, watching himintently, his full heart in his eyes. 

"I thought it would give you pleasure, " he said, in a tone ofrestrained feeling, "but I had no knowledge that it would please youas much as that. I am very glad I thought of it. But now, " he addedmore briskly, "enough of talk. There waiteth more work to be done thana man can accomplish before dark. Get you back to bed, RessaldarSahib, and stay there until I order otherwise. "

Once outside, he sprang to the saddle, and set off at a canter throughthe withering, stupefying sunlight towards Captain Olliver'sbungalow. 

CHAPTER XI. 

YOU DON'T KNOW DESMOND. 

 "Suffer with men, and like a man be strong. "--MYERS. 

Frank Olliver, looking remarkably fresh and cool in a holland gown ofsevere simplicity, greeted him from the verandah with a flour-coveredhand. At the sound of hoofs, her ready brain had sprung to the rightconclusion, and she hurried out to save him the necessity ofdismounting. She had learned to know the value of minutes to ahard-worked man. 

"Geoff told me, " she said, a rare seriousness veiling the laughter ofher eyes. "It's cruel bad news, but you mustn't dream of being anxiousyet awhile, Theo, man. I'll be round by half-past eleven sharp; staytill you two are through with your work; rest this afternoon and comeon again at seven, till morning. You'll just take one clear night inbed before I let you go shares in _that_ part o' the work. You cantrust him to me, can't you, though I _am_ a mad Irishwoman? I'llpromise not to be waking up the patient to take his sleeping draught, or any such cleverness!"

Her nonsense dispelled Desmond's gravity. "I can trust you as far asthat, I think!" he answered with a laugh; "but I won't have youknocking yourself up again over this. The lad's my subaltern, and it'smy business. You shall take to-night, though, if you've a mind to, andmy best thanks into the bargain. God alone knows where we should allbe without you. "

"Just precisely where you are at present, no doubt!" But the softenedtone betrayed her appreciation of his honest praise. "It's just a badhabit you've got into, that's the truth, and I've not the heart tobreak you of it either. But 'tis no time now for playing ball withcompliments. I'm busy over a cake. My cook has a pain, an' swears 'tischolera. An' what with dosing him, an' trying to convince him he's afool, and seeing after Geoff's tiffin, I'll be melted to one tear-droppresently; but the good man'll have to dine at Mess to-night. "

Desmond gathered up his reins, and she waved to him as he rode away. 

Punctually at the half-hour she entered the sick-room--cool, practised, business-like, and took over her case as composedly as anytrained nurse. For in those early days nursing was as persistent afeature of the hot weather as the punkah itself, and her skill hadbeen acquired in a hard school. 

The Boy had been installed, for greater comfort, in Desmond's own bed;and he greeted her with a faint smile of recognition. 

"Poor, dear old fellow, " she murmured tenderly, pushing the damp hairfrom his brow; "wait only till the ice comes, an' we'll pull you roundfinely, never fear. "

His lids fell under her soothing touch, and sprinkling her fingerswith lavender water she passed them across and across his forehead; alook in her eyes the while that none save her "brother officers" hadever seen there; a look such as her children might have seen, had shebeen so blest. 

Among acquaintances Mrs Olliver passed for a masculine woman, boisterous and good-humoured, though somewhat lacking in the lesserproprieties and affectations which passed for delicacy of feeling. Butwith all her angularity and mannish ways, she was a fine motherwasted: and in her heart she knew it. There are too many such amongus. A mystery of pain and unfulfilled hope which there seems nojustifying, save that at times the world is the gainer by theirindividual loss; and Frank Olliver, being denied the blessedness ofchildren, mothered all the men of her regiment, the formidable Colonelnot excepted. 

Having charmed her patient into a light sleep, she made a noiselesstour of the room, smiling at the revelation of Paul Wyndham's hand inthe exquisite neatness wherewith all things had been set in order. Atowel pinned to the punkah frill brought the faint relief of movingair nearer to Denvil's face. In the hasty manner of its pinning Theo'sworkmanship stood revealed, and the smile deepened in her eyes. Sheknew each least characteristic of these her grown children; knew, andloved them, with a strong unspoken love. 

Her next move brought her to the thermometer. It registered 95°. Along while after sundown the mercury might drop three degrees, certainly not more. She cast an anxious glance at the sleeper, and herquick eye caught the lagging of the punkah, broken by fitful jerks, which denotes that the coolie--squatting on his heels in theverandah--is pulling the inexorable rope in his dreams. 

Opening the outer door and letting in a blast as from the mouth ofhell, she reasoned with that much-enduring human machine in a forcibleIrish whisper, that set the towel flapping and billowing like a flagin a wind. The room was none the cooler for his exertions, but in suchintensity of heat mere movement of the air serves to preventsuffocation. 

Mrs Olliver sat down beside her patient and her mind reverted to herown domestic calamity. She wondered with a simple practicalwonderment, devoid of fear, whether or no she had a case of cholera inher compound. To-morrow it would be well to ascertain the truth; andin the meantime she dismissed the matter from her mind. 

Before tiffin was over at the station Mess, Wyndham made hisappearance, and with a friendly nod of welcome took the reins out ofher hands. But by seven o'clock she was back at her post; and one lookat Harry's flushed face and unseeing eyes convinced her that the nexttwelve hours would make a high demand upon her energies, and herresolute hopefulness of heart. 

Desmond came in before Mess. His eyes were grave and anxious, and formany minutes he stood looking down upon the boy in silence; the slimuprightness of his figure emphasised by the close-fitting whiteuniform, with its wide splash of scarlet at the waist. Then hecrossed to the table and studied the chart, that strange hieroglyph, like a negative print of forked lightning, so full of dread meaning tothose who can read it aright. The latest entry was 106°. 

"You saw Mackay?" he asked, under his breath. 

"I did. "

"You're in for a hard night of it. I'd better stay up and help. "

"I'll not have you at any price, " she answered bluntly. 

He frowned. But the fact that he did not insist spoke volumes to herunderstanding heart. 

"Swear you'll send Amar Singh to wake me if it seems necessary. "

"I will--no fear. "

"He'll sit handy, just outside, all night and help you in any possibleway. He's a jewel at times like this. I'll look in again when I gethome. "

"Come back early, " she commanded with a sudden smile, "and have asolid night of sleep. It's plain your needing it badly. "

"Thanks. I believe I am. I'll make a fresh start afterwards and takemy fair share of the work. Jove! It's a furnace of a night. There goesthe trumpet; I'll be back before long. "

His words were truer than he knew. 

Shortly after nine o'clock, while Mrs Olliver was persuading hersemi-delirious patient to swallow two tablespoonfuls of chicken-broth, quick footsteps and the clink of spurs made her sit suddenly upright, with a listening look in her eyes. She knew the country of her servicewell enough to be prepared for anything at any hour of the day ornight--and she was barely surprised when, two minutes later, Desmondstood before her in his forage cap, his sword buckled on over hismess-jacket and held high to prevent it from clanking. 

"What is it?" she asked in a hurried whisper. "A beacon fire alight?"

He nodded, and passed a handkerchief across his forehead, for he hadcome at lightning speed. 

"A raid of sorts--out Hangu way. Can't tell if it'll be a big thing ornot. The whole garrison's ordered out. "

It was a matter of seconds, and he spoke in a breathless rush. 

"I dashed on ahead to give you a few instructions. Olliver is orderingGriselda to be saddled and brought across at once. If the affair looksserious we'll send an orderly back to fetch a doolie from thehospital, come on here for you and the Boy, and see you safely to theFort, where you must stay till further orders. Get all possiblenecessaries together, and be ready to leave at a moment's notice. "

"If we move him to-night, Theo, 'twill be--the end of it all. "

A spasm of pain crossed his face. 

"I hope to God it mayn't be necessary. But we must take our chance ofthat. It won't be safe for you to have a light in the house, withevery door open, and the city full of _budmashes_. [24] Can you managewith just a night-light carefully screened?"

[24] Bad characters. 

"Sure I can. I'll manage to see with me fingers well enough!"

"Right! Amar Singh'll sit outside the door. He'll not sleep a wink, Ipromise you. "

The suspicion of a tremor in her brave smile caught at his heart. Hepressed her shoulder with a reassuring hand. 

"Sorry Olliver couldn't see you before leaving, " he said gently. "Hullo, there's Paul; I must be off. God bless you for a plucky woman, Frank. We'll all get back--sometime, never fear. " And in an instantshe was alone. 

Nothing remained but to blow out the lamp and set the screenednight-light on a table farthest from the outer doors. Its uncertainflicker served to make darkness visible and through the darkness shecrept back to her station by the bed. 

Denvil, who had fallen into an unrefreshing sleep, stirred and tossedwith broken mutterings that threatened every moment to break out intothe babble of delirium; and for a while she sat beside him in astunned quietness, her ears strained to catch the sounds that came upfrom below--the hasty gathering of men and horses and mules; thejingle of harness; brisk words of command; the tramping of many feet. Comforting sounds, since they spoke of the protective presence ofEnglishmen. 

But those that followed were less reassuring, for they were sounds ofmassed movement, of an organised body under way: the muffled tread ofinfantry, the cheerful clatter of cavalry at the trot. She knew theorder of their going, to the minutest detail. A vision of it all wasphotographed upon her brain as she had witnessed it these many timeswithin the past ten years; and perhaps owing to the mental vividnessof her race, custom had not yet ground the edge off the poignantmoment of departure. 

Rapidly, inexorably, the sounds retreated toward the hills; and asthey drew farther away she listened the more intently. It was as ifher spirit, freed from her body, followed the men she loved, till theunheeding night absorbed them--till hearing, stretched to its utmostlimit, could catch no lightest echo of sound. 

Then silence, intensified by stifling darkness, enveloped her, pressing in upon heart and brain like an invisible force that held herprisoner against her will. 

The practical side of her fought squarely against this obsession ofthe intangible; but it persisted and prevailed. The mocking shadowscrowded about her, compelled her to a discomfortable realisation ofher solitude in a station needing the perpetual alertness of armed mento ensure peace and safety. For Kohat city boasted a creditableaverage of bad characters and murder cases--a corpse more or less onthe Border being of no more consequence than the fall of a sparrow;and the Waziris had of late been unusually daring in regard toGovernment horses and carbines. Nor was it an unknown thing for themto creep past the sentries on very black nights into the stationitself; and for all her courage, Frank Olliver was by no meansfearless. The two are a contradiction in terms. Only the unimaginativeare fearless, and only the keenly imaginative, capable of feeling fearin every fibre, ever scale the heights of true courage. 

Save for the wakeful vigilance of sentries, the huddled bungalows ofthe cantonment lay below her empty as a handful of shells on a loneshore; and in the overpowering stillness each least sound stood outcrisp and clear-cut as twigs against a winter sunset; the fitfulrustle of bedclothes; Rob breathing peacefully in a distant corner;the whisper of the punkah; the querulous creaking of the rope answeredby a whine from the back verandah, where a resigned coolie swayed abasket of damp straw, packed with bottles of milk and soda-water forDenvil's consumption during the night. 

The reiteration of these still small voices grew distracting as thewhisper of an unseen clock. They dominated the silence, paralysingthought, and compelling her to note every change in their pitilessregularity. 

Resolved to break the spell by the only definite action available, shedecided to prepare for the emergency which her brain refused to face. But on rising she was arrested by a voice from the bed--a voice not ofspeech but of song, a snatch from a burlesque the Boy had played induring the winter:

 "My name it is Abanazar If you want me you needn't go far; I'm sure to be found, if you'll only look round, Number Seventy, Suddar Bazaar. "

Denvil's deep baritone, distorted to a guttural travesty of itself, rose to a shout on the ascending notes of the last line. Then, withoutpause for breath, came the voice of speech--hurried, expressionless, heartrending to hear. 

"Safe for an encore, that--what? Should ha' been Desmond, though. Seehim in tights you'd think he could slip through a wedding-ring. Doneit too, by Jove! Better than horses that, in the long-run. --How aboutGrey Dawn?--Confound your luck! Always a dead cert till I lay anythingon. Hold hard, though. . . . I'm done with all that now. . . . Wouldn't goback on Desmond--not for a mine of gold. _You_ don't knowDesmond;--wait till you're in a hole! Eight hundred rupees, I tellyou--more than his month's pay! Said I was to keep quiet about it too. Not mail-day to-morrow, is it? Where's the use of writing to her?She'd never understand. Look out--some one's coming, --there by thedoor. Great Scott! It's--it's mother!"

The voice broke into an unnatural sound between a laugh and a sob, andFrank, who was already praying for the lesser evil of silence, bentover the Boy, soothing him with tender words and tone, as though shewere his mother in very deed. 

The delusion was strong upon him. He clung to her fiercely when shewould have risen to fetch milk, overwhelming her with a rush ofdisjointed questions varied by snatches of enthusiasm for Desmond, till exhaustion reduced him to incoherent mutterings; and she was freeat last to grope for milk and brandy and a fresh packing of wetsheets. 

He grew quieter after a space, and sank into a more restful sleep, leaving Frank Olliver to face another spell of whispering silence; herears strained now to catch the dread sound of a single horsemanreturning from the hills. 

The first white streak of dawn found her still at her post, with handsquietly folded and unclosed eyes; found Amar Singh wide-eyed also, hislean face and figure rigid as a stone image, a bared sword lying likea flash of light across his knees. 

And with the dawn came also the far-off mutter of the footsteps thatnight had stolen from her; an inverted repetition of the same soundsin a steady crescendo that rang like music in her ears--a sound tolift the heart. 

The massed tramping of men and horses broke up at length, scattered inall directions, and within five minutes she looked up to find herhusband in the doorway--a thickset man, with more of force thanperception in his blunt features and heavily-browed eyes. 

She rose and went to him straightway, her face alight withsatisfaction, and he took a friendly hold of her arm by way ofgreeting. They had always been more like good comrades than man andwife, these two. 

"Well, old girl, " he said, "there was no show after all, you see. Itseems that the raid didn't quite come off; and we had our scamper fornothing, worse luck! The Boy going on all right?"

"'Tis hard to tell. He's in a quiet sleep just now, anyway. "

"You may as well come out of this, then, and give us some breakfast. I'm going to the Major's room to tidy up. "

As his wife stepped back into the sick-room, Theo Desmond came quicklytowards her. 

"Well done, " he said heartily; "you didn't expect us quite so soon, did you? Not a shot fired, and I should have been swearing all the wayhome--but for the Boy. Looks peaceful enough now, doesn't he?Temperature any lower?"

"Just a little, these last few hours. But he's been talking a deal ofmadness, poor fellow. "

"What about?" he asked sharply. "Money?"

She smiled, with an odd mixture of pride and tenderness in her eyes. 

"Faith, I can see what's been happening, Theo, clear as daylight. ButI'll say no word to a soul, not even Geoff; you know that sureenough. "

"Yes, I know it. But I'll feel grateful when he stops airing thesubject. "

Her low laugh had a break in it, and he scanned her face keenly. 

"You're played out, Frank. I was afraid you were hardly fit for thissort of thing yet. You don't do a stroke more till to-morrow morning. Come along now and have five grains of quinine and some food. AmarSingh can mount guard in case the Boy wakes up. "

Paul Wyndham greeted her with his nod and smile, which were apt toconvey more friendliness than other people's words. Desmond set herceremoniously in the place of honour; and the 6. 30 breakfast, preparedat ten minutes' notice, and eaten in Mess uniform, proved a remarkablycheerful affair; one of those simple, commonplace events which, forall their simplicity, go far to cement friendship and form refreshingcases along the dusty path of life. 

The morning post-bag contained an envelope in Evelyn's handwriting;and, the Ollivers being gone, Theo retired to the study to enjoy it athis leisure. It proved to be short, and contained little beyondquerulous upbraiding. Her husband could almost catch the tone of hervoice as he read; and the light of satisfaction left his face. Evelynhad an insatiable appetite for long and detailed letters, though sheby no means returned them in kind; and it appeared that Theo had notwritten for a week. In the fulness of his days he had not realised thefact which was now brought forcibly to his notice. 

"It's just laziness and selfishness, " she wrote in her sweepingfashion, "when you _know_ how I look out for your letters, to leave mea whole week without a line. If it was _me_, there might be someexcuse, because there's always something or another going on, and Inever seem to get a minute to sit down and write. But you must havehours and hours of spare time in the long days down there. I expectyou play chess with Major Wyndham all the while, and quite forgetabout writing to me. I suppose if you were ill _some one_ would havethe decency to write and tell me. But if you don't write yourself_directly_ you get this, I shall think something dreadful hashappened; and it's such a nuisance not to know if you are all right. Ican't enjoy things properly a bit. "

And so on, _ad lib. _, _da capo_, until the end. 

Having read it through twice, with a flicker of amusement in his tiredeyes, he sat down straightway, wrote for a quarter of an hour at thetop of his speed, and left the letter ready for the afternoon post. Itcontained a polite apology for remissness, followed by an account inbare outline of his doings during the past five days; a few details inregard to Harry's illness; and an intimation that if letters wereshort, she must remember that, for the present, every hour of sparetime would be taken up with nursing the Boy or writing detailedaccounts to his mother. And, in truth, before that wearisome illnesswas over Mrs[. ] Denvil and her boy's Captain had struck up a lastingfriendship across six thousand miles of sea. 

 * * * * *

On her return from a tennis party the following afternoon EvelynDesmond found the letter awaiting her; and her face took such ruefullines as she read it, that Honor's anxiety was roused. 

"_Evelyn_--what is it?" she asked, a slight catch in her breath. 

Evelyn shrugged her shoulders in meek resignation. 

"Oh, it's only rather more Kohatish than usual! Mr. Denvil seems tobe quite bad with typhoid, and Theo has been galloping over half theFrontier after outposts--such rubbishy work for a man like that!And--oh, you'd better read it all for yourself. You needn't botherabout it having been written for _me_. It might just as well be aparagraph out of a newspaper!"

With a childish grimace she tossed the letter across the table. Buthid in her heart lay the rankling knowledge that she had been bothhasty and unjust to her husband, who had emphasised the fact byignoring it, --a method peculiarly his own. 

Honor read every line of the closely-written pages with eagerinterest, read also the much that had not been written, that Evelynhad failed to discern; and a great thankfulness overwhelmed her thatshe had refrained from adding her own passing vexation to the burdenof work and anxiety already resting on her friend's shoulders. 

Her spoken comment was brief and characteristic. 

"Oh, how I envy Mrs Olliver! We're just playing at life up here, youand I, like two dolls, while she is living the real thing down there. "

Evelyn Desmond, in utter astonishment, flung annoyance to the winds. 

"Really and truly, Honor, " she declared, with conviction, "you are themost amazing person I've ever known!"

CHAPTER XII. 

NOW IT'S DIFFERENT. 

 "A word! how it severeth! O Power of Life and Death, In the tongue, as the preacher saith. " --BROWNING. 

The great monsoon--a majestic onrush of cloud hurtling across theheavens, with dazzle of lightning and clangour of thunder--had longsince rolled up from India's coastline to her utmost hills; bringingnew forms of torment to the patient plains; filling mountain andvalley and water-courses innumerable with the voice of melody. 

On the cedar-crowned heights of Murree, dank boughs dripped anddrooped above ill-made houses, that gave free admittance to the moistouter world; tree ferns, springing to sudden life on moss-clad trunksand boughs, showed brilliant as emeralds on velvet. The whole earthwas quick with hidden stirrings and strivings, the whole air quickwith living sound--plash of rain-drops; evensong of birds; gladshouting of cicadas among the branches, and the laughter of a hundredfairy falls. 

Theo Desmond drank in the cool green wonder of it all with a keenlyperceptive enjoyment; drew into his lungs deep draughts of the strong, clean mountain air; watched the frail curtain of mist swaying, lifting, spreading to a pearl-white film, till, through a sudden rent, the red gold of sunset burned, deepening to a mass of velvet shadowthe inexpressible blue of rain-washed hills. 

His post of observation on this August evening was the saturatedverandah of "The Deodars, " where he had flung himself full length inHonor's canvas chair, a pipe between his teeth; hands locked behindhis head; lavishly muddied boots and gaiters outstretched; the wholesupple length of him eloquent of well-earned relaxation and repose. 

Three days earlier he had ridden up through a world of driving mistand rain in the wake of Harry Denvil's doolie; having secured ablessed month of respite for himself and two months for the Boy, who, by the efforts of three tireless nurses and a redoubtable Scotchdoctor, had been dragged back from death; and was but just beginningto take hold on life and health again. 

From outset to close he had clung to the support of Desmond's presencewith the tenacity of an exhausted body and a fevered brain;--atenacity which could not fail to touch the older man's heart, andwhich had made it difficult for others to take their due share in thenursing. Thus the slow weeks of dependence on one side, and unweariedservice on the other, together with the underlying bond between them, had wrought a closeness of friendship to which the Boy had longaspired; and which promised to add depth and stability to the warmthand uprightness of heart that were already his. Harry Denvil's presentneed was for a tacit wiping out of the past, an unquestioning trust inregard to the future; and his Captain, after the wordless manner ofmen, gave him full assurance of both. It is just this power to drawout the best and strongest by the simple habit of taking it forgranted that marks the true leader; the man who compels because henever insists; whose influence is less a force than a subtleradiation. 

And now, as Theo Desmond sat alone fronting a world compact of mistand fire, and the fragrance of moist earth, his mind was mainlyconcerned with the Boy's future, and with certain retrenchments of hisown expenditure, whereby alone he could hope to cancel the debts thatremained after the disposal of Roland. His sole trouble in respect ofthese retrenchments lay in the fact that they must, to some extent, affect his wife. If only she could be persuaded to see the necessityas clearly as he did himself, all would be well. She and Harry hadbeen good friends from the outset. He hoped--he believed--she wouldunderstand. 

Light footsteps on the boards behind him brought a smile to his lips;but he neither turned nor stirred. An instant later, hands cool andimponderable as snowflakes rested on his forehead, and silken strandsof hair brushed it softly as his wife leaned over him, nestling herhead against his own. 

"Are you very happy sitting there?" she whispered. 

"Supremely happy. "

"Why? Because you're so nice and wet, and messy?"

"Yes; and a few other reasons as well. "

"What other reasons? Me?"

"Naturally, you dear little goose! Come round and let me get a sightof you, instead of perching behind me like a bird. "

She came round obediently, standing a little away from him, --a slimstrip of colour that reflected the uncertain sea-tint of hereyes, --and looked down upon his disordered appearance with a smallgrimace. 

"I'm not _sure_ that I love you properly, Theo, when you're _quite_ asmuddy as that. "

"Oh yes, you do; come on!"

And putting out an arm, he drew her down till she knelt beside him, her hands resting on his knee. He covered them quietly with one of hisown. 

"Ladybird, it's turning out a glorious evening! Come for a walk. "

"Oh, Theo, _don't_ be so uncomfortably energetic! I hate going out inthe wet. You only came in half an hour ago, and you've been walkingall day. "

He laughed--the glad laugh of a truant schoolboy--and knocked theashes out of his pipe. 

"I'm capable of walking all night too! Only then you might imagine thehot weather had turned my brain. But indeed, little woman, if you hadbeen sickened with sunlight and scorched earth as I have been for thelast three months, you'd understand how a man may feel a bitlightheaded in the first few days that he's quit of it all. "

"And was I very horrid to be playing up here in the cool all thetime?" she asked, pricked by the memory of Honor's words to one of herrare touches of compunction. 

"My dear, what nonsense! It would have been double as bad if you hadbeen there too. "

Sincerity rang in his tone, and she noted the fact with a sigh ofrelief. She was not altogether heartless, this fragile slip ofwomanhood. She merely desired, like many of us, the comfort of beingselfish without the unbecomingness of appearing so. 

"We'll sit out here together and talk till it gets dark, " sheannounced with a pretty air of decision, lest the invitation to walkshould be renewed. "Stay where you are, and I'll fetch a stool. It'squite a treat to see you looking lazy for once in a way. "

She brought a stool and established herself close to him. Heacknowledged her presence without removing his eyes from thestorm-tossed glory of the sky. 

"Look, Ladybird--look!" he urged in a low tone. "We can talkafterwards. "

But her attention was caught and riveted by the reflection of theglory in her husband's face. 

"Does it please you so tremendously?" she asked in honestbewilderment. "Just a sunset! You've seen hundreds of them before. "

He smiled and answered nothing. Speech and emotion inhabit differenthemispheres of a man's brain; woman alone is rash enough to force theminto unwilling union. 

The clinging garment of mist, driven and dispersed by day's last flashof self-assertion, lay heaped and tumbled in the valleys, and themountains stood knee-deep in an opalescent sea of foam. It was asthough Nature, in a mood of capricious kindliness, had rent the veil, that mortals might share in the triumphal passing of the sun, whosesupremacy had been in eclipse these many days. 

Above the deep-toned quiet of earth, blurred and ragged clouds showedevery conceivable tone of umber and grey, from purest pearl-white todarkest depths of indigo. Only low down, where a blue-black mass endedwith level abruptness, a flaming strip of day was splashed along thewest--one broad brush-stroke, as it were, by some Titanic artist whosepalette held liquid fire. Snows and mist alike caught and flung backthe radiance in a maze of rainbow hues; while beyond the bank ofcloud a vast pale fan of light shot outward and upward to the veryzenith of heaven. Each passing minute wrought some imperceptiblechange of grouping, form, or colour; blurred masses melted to flakesand strata on a groundwork of frail blue; orange deepened to crimson;and anon earth and sky were on fire with tints of garnet and rose. Each several snow-peak blushed like an angel surprised in a good deed. Splashes of colour sprang from cloud-tip to cloud-tip with invisiblespeed, till even the chill east glowed with a faint hue of life. 

And in the midst of the transient splendour, enveloped by theisolation of the falling day, husband and wife sat silent, absorbed instrangely opposite reflections. Verily they dwelt in differentplanets, these two who had willed to be one, but whom forces morepotent held it inexorably apart. 

Desmond had long since passed beyond the border-line of definitethought; while Evelyn's mind rapidly reverted to the more congenialatmosphere of things terrestrial. An unknown force was urging her tospeak openly to her husband, to rid herself of the shadow that hadbegun to tarnish the bright surface of life. It would be easier tospeak in dusk than in bald daylight--easier also before the bloom ofreunion had been rubbed off by the prosaic trivialities of life. Inher present position, too, it would be possible to avoid his gaze; andshe found a singular difficulty in tampering with facts when Theo'seyes were on her face. 

She watched him speculatively for a few moments, and wondered whatchange would come over him when her tale was told. Anger frightenedand repelled her; and for all his hastiness she had seldom seen morethan a mere spark of his inner fire. 

He seemed to have forgotten her existence; and by way of gentlereminder she shifted her position. 

"Theo, " she said under her breath. 

He felt the movement without catching the sound of his name, andturned to her quickly, impulsive speech upon his lips. 

"By the way, Ladybird, there's something I want to tell you, and thisis a good opportunity. "

The coincidence so startled her that her own half-fledged impulsescurried back to its nest. Nor was she certain whether the sigh thatescaped her expressed disappointment or relief. 

"What is it?" she asked--"something nice?"

The characteristic question set him smiling. 

"You must judge for yourself. It chiefly concerns the Boy. You're fondof him, aren't you?"

"Yes; he's nice enough. But why?"

"You wouldn't mind if we put ourselves out a little to get him out ofa difficulty?"

"Well, that would rather depend on what we had to do. " Her tone, though still pleasant, was guarded. "What kind of difficulty?"

"Money. "

She turned her face away something suddenly, and felt very thankfulthat day was fading from the sky. 

"Do you mean--lending him money?" she asked blankly. 

"No--giving it. I prefer it that way. There's no need to tell you histroubles in detail; it would hardly be fair to him. They, are of akind you can't know anything about; and I hope you never will. "

In the fewest possible words he gave her an outline of Harry's story;of the parting with Roland, and the promise he had exacted in returnfor his help. He spoke throughout with such unfailing kindness thatvexation pricked and stung her, like thorns under the skin. She mighthave told him after all. He would not have been angry. Now she hadbeen forestalled. She failed to perceive that the backslidings of hiswife must of necessity touch him more nearly than those of hissubaltern, and that to her own extravagance was added a host of pettyevasions and deceits such as a man of his type would be little able tocondone or understand. 

"You see, " he was saying when her mind harked back from the excursioninto her own point of view, "the poor fellow has done all he cantowards putting matters straight, and I am thankful I can manage therest myself, so as to give him a fair start for the future. "

"But how much is--_your_ share?" she asked, almost in a whisper. 

"Rather more than eight hundred rupees. "

"And you have actually--_done_ it, Theo?"

"Yes. You surely couldn't have wished otherwise?"

For a moment she hesitated, then her repressed bitterness brimmedover. 

"Oh, I don't know. Only I think you might have considered _me_ alittle first. I've more right to your money than he has; and if youcan afford to throw away eight hundred rupees on a careless, extravagant subaltern, you could quite well let me go to Simla; or atleast add something to my dress allowance. It's not so very easy tomanage on the little you give me. "

She spoke with averted face in a tone of clear hardness, and each wordsmote her husband like a small sharp stone. 

"I am sorry you see it that way, " he said, a new restraint in hisvoice, "and that you don't find your allowance sufficient. I give youall I can, and you seem to have pretty frocks enough, anyhow. If I hadeight hundred rupees to throw away, --as you choose to express it, --Ishould hardly have spoken of putting ourselves out; in fact, Ishouldn't have spoken at all. But you have been such good friends withthe Boy all along that I hoped you would be ready to help give him ahand up. I can only manage such a sum by knocking two hundred off mypay for the next four months. This means cutting down expenses alittle; but we can easily do it, Ladybird--_if_ we pull together. "

At any other time such an appeal from Theo would have provedirresistible, would have drawn them into a closer union of thought andpurpose than they had ever attained as yet. But the appeal came at thewrong moment, and Evelyn Desmond sat silent, her hands so fastinterlocked that her rings bruised their delicate surface. 

"I am thinking of the Boy's mother as well as himself, you see, " herhusband urged with increasing gentleness; "he is her only son, and sheis wrapped up in him; and I know from experience what that means. "

She lifted her head and faced him. 

"You think a great deal too much about--those sort of stray people, Theo, and it's rather hard on me. Why am _I_ to be made uncomfortableon account of Mrs Denvil, when I've never even met her in my life?"

"If you can't see that for yourself, Ladybird, I'm afraid I can't tellyou. I've no taste for preaching sermons. "

"It would be rather a mercy if you had no taste for acting themeither, " she retorted, with a little laugh that failed to take theedge off her words. "_I_ don't much like them in any form. How are yougoing to cut down expenses?"

"Chiefly in ways that need not concern you. But to start with, I'mafraid I must take you and Honor down with me on the third of nextmonth. I can do nothing while I am crippled by a double establishment. You'll barely miss four weeks up here, and the heat is over earlier inKohat than in the Punjab. Paul gets his leave when mine is up, and hewill spend it here with the Boy, so as to take the last month of rentoff my hands. "

"So you've _settled_ it all without saying a word to _me_?"

"Yes. I had to fix things up before I left. It's a pity the difficultyincludes Honor, but I don't think she'll mind when I tell her why. "

"Oh dear, no; _Honor_ won't mind. I believe she's happier inKohat, --but----"

"But _you_ are _not_?" he broke out abruptly, leaning forward andsearching her face with anxious eyes. 

The vehement question startled her. 

"I never said _that_, Theo--and it isn't true. Only--I do hate theugliness and the heat, and September's the loveliest month of all uphere. "

"Doesn't it make things any easier to feel you are helping the Boy bygiving up these few weeks of enjoyment?"

"No--it doesn't. Not a bit. "

Desmond frowned. 

"Try and fancy yourself in a strait like that, Evelyn, and thethundering relief it would be to get out of it. "

His words stabbed her unwittingly. 

"I'm not good at fancying things, and I'm not good at cutting downexpenses either--I was never taught. I hope you don't do theseuncomfortable sort of things often, Theo. It seems to me you're toomuch inclined to rush in and help people without stopping to thinkof--of other people at all! It would have been much better for theBoy if you'd left him to get clear of his muddle, instead of upsettingevery one by spending money on him that you can't really spare. "

Her husband leaned farther back into the shadow, his mouth hardened toa rigid line. All that he chose to say on the subject had been said. 

Emboldened by his silence, and the fact that his face was hidden fromher, she continued her small flow of remonstrance, undermining herselfmore completely with each fresh word. 

"It was all very well while you were a bachelor for you to go throwingyour life and your money about so foolishly. But now it's different;and I don't think you have a right to do it any more. Where's the goodof us trying so hard to live on our pay, if it's only to be flungabout to help subalterns who don't try at all? You can't cure MrDenvil of being casual; and for all your generosity, you'll probablyfind him in just as bad a hole again by this time next year. "

The words stung him to sharp retort. 

"I never asked for _your_ opinion of the Boy, Evelyn; and you seem toforget that he has given me his word. "

"Oh, no doubt he has! It's easy enough to make promises when one'sunhappy; but it isn't so easy to keep them when things get smoothagain. " And she nodded her head wisely, for her conviction sprang fromthe depths of personal experience. 

Her husband rose and walked to the verandah's edge. Here he remainedstanding, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his Norfolk coat, his eyes fixed absently on the last gleam of light in the west, whereall that now remained of the sunset's stormy splendour was a handfulof filmy fragments, like rose petals dropped from some Olympianrose-bush, and the sickle of a young moon, outrivalled by the mellowradiance of the evening star. The snows lay dead and cold, awaitingthe resurrection of dawn. Their chill pallor struck at his heart in amanner new to him. 

Evelyn studied his eloquent outline with a mild surprise. She was nota little proud of her valiant protest against his mistaken ideas; andhe was surely not foolish enough to be annoyed because she had talkedpractical common-sense. 

She went to him at last, and lightly touched his arm. 

"You look as solemn as a funeral, Theo! Why don't you speak?"

"Because I have no more to say. Too much has been said already. I amsorry I mentioned the matter at all. "

With that he turned from her and entered the house. 

Honor met him on the threshold, and her eyes were quick to catch thelurking shadow in his. But she merely said what she had come to say. 

"Mr Denvil is longing for you. I have done my small best to amuse him;only there comes a stage when nothing will satisfy him but you. Where's Evelyn?"

"Outside there. It's time she came in. "

Honor found her by the verandah rails, standing like a pensive ghostin the dying light. 

"Studying the sunset, Evelyn?" she remarked cheerfully. "That's a newdeparture for you!"

Whereat Evelyn flung out both hands--a pretty appealing gesture allher own. 

"Oh, Honor, Theo's been _so_ troublesome! And he wants to take us downon the third of next month. He will explain to you the why of it all;perhaps you'll understand better than I could. Such high-flown notionsdon't appeal to me a bit. _I_ think Theo is rather like that silly manin the Middle Ages who was always trying to fight windmills, or sheep, or something; and there really ought to be a law to prevent people whowant to go about being unselfish to everybody from ever having wivesat all!"

CHAPTER XIII. 

IT ISN'T FAIR. 

 "Though thou repent, yet have I still the loss; The offender's sorrow yields but weak relief To him who bears the strong offence's cross. " --SHAKESPEARE. 

The measure of a man's worth is not to be found in a heroic impulse ora fine idea, but in the steadfast working out of either through weeksand months--when the glow has faded from the heights, when theinspiration of an illumined moment has passed into the unrecognisedchivalry of daily life; and the three months following upon thatcrucial August evening put no light tax upon Desmond's stayingpower, --the power that is the corner-stone of all achievement. 

Border life is, in every respect, more costly than life in "downcountry" cantonments. To keep within the narrow bounds of his pay wasalready a difficult matter; and such minor retrenchments as could beachieved were inadequate to meet his present need. He saw that hewould be called upon to part with one or two cherished possessions, acquired in days of young extravagance; and possibly to break into thefew hundred rupees laid aside for emergencies shortly after hismarriage. 

Wine, cigars, and cigarettes must be banished outright; and he limitedhimself to one pipe and one "peg" a-day. Stores of all kinds wereruthlessly cut down; and only the Anglo-Indian housewife knows what itmeans to be flung almost entirely upon the tender mercies of theBazaar. Informal dinner-parties, for which the Desmonds were famous, became rare events; and nights at Mess--a favourite and justifiableluxury--were reduced in number as far as might be without elicitingremonstrance from his brother officers. For in India, and moreespecially in the Army of India, it is profoundly true that "no manliveth unto himself. " In the Land of the Open Door the second of thetwo great commandments is apt to be set before the first; and nowhere, perhaps, is the bond of union stronger, more compelling, than in theisolated regiments of the Frontier Force. But, with due regard forthis unwritten law, Desmond accomplished much in those few months ofunremitting self-denial; and if his friends noted certain changes inhis way of life, they accepted these in the true spirit ofcomradeship, without question or comment. 

Even Wyndham kept silence, though he had fuller knowledge of hisfriend's abstemiousness, and was disturbed by a great longing toremove the hidden cause. But intimate speech played a minor part inthe friendship of these two men. The very depth and strength of theirfeeling for each other constrained them to a particular reticence inthe matter of self-expression. 

On the first occasion of Paul's dining at the blue bungalow, after hisreturn from Murree, Desmond spoke a few words of apology for theabsence of wine and cigars. 

"Sorry to treat you shabbily, old man, " he said, when they were alone. "Just a little necessary economy. It won't last long. "

Paul nodded, smiling, and quietly proffered his own cigar-case. 

"At least you'll not refuse one of mine, Theo, " he said; and theirtalk drifted into the fertile channel of "shop, " and the prospect ofserious collision with Russia, which at that time loomed on thepolitical horizon. 

Paul was thus left to draw his own conclusions, which were notcomplimentary to his friend's wife. For reserve has its drawbacks, like every other virtue; and those who practise it often, forget thatif there is a time for silence, there is also a time for speech. 

Evelyn clung tenaciously to her disapproval of the whole proceeding. The scarcity of stores, and of pleasant little dinners, were the onlyretrenchments that directly disturbed her comfort, and she made themost of them, though the problems of housekeeping fell mainly uponHonor's shoulders. The girl's readiness to accept Evelyn's burden, asa matter of course, could not fail to rouse Desmond's admiration: andthese three months of friction and stress, of working bravely togetherfor one end, went far to strengthen the bond of their friendship. 

Evelyn contented herself with a thinly veiled air of martyrdom, andwith raising objections whenever opportunity offered. Only afterDenvil's first dinner did she venture a direct attack. For on thisoccasion economy was not. Wine and cigars appeared with the dessert;and the two men sat an inordinately long while over both. But theinner significance of her husband's acts being a sealed book to EvelynDesmond, she spent the evening in a state of suppressed irritation, which, on the Boy's departure, overflowed in petulant reproof. 

"Why did you have everything different to-night just because of MrDenvil?" she demanded in a note of challenge. 

"Because I preferred it so. "

Desmond's tone was polite, but final. He sat down and opened a book inself-defence. But Evelyn was not to be baulked by a policy of masterlyinactivity. She remained standing before him. 

"Is it going to be like that every time he comes?"

"Yes. "

"Theo--it's perfectly ridiculous the way you put yourself out for thatboy!" she protested with unusual heat, kindled by a hidden spark ofjealousy. "It's bad enough to have you giving up everything, andmaking Honor and me thoroughly uncomfortable, without this sort ofnonsense on the top of it all. "

Honor glanced up in quick remonstrance; but Desmond caught the look inher eyes, and it was enough. "Haven't you the sense to see that justbecause he is so fond of you he _ought_ to be allowed to know how muchtrouble he has given you. It's the only way to make him more careful, now he's back again; and if you _will_ go on in this way, I shall endin speaking to him myself. "

She had overshot the mark. 

Desmond shut the book with a snap; flung it on the table, and sprangup with such anger in his eyes that his wife shrank backinstinctively. Her movement, slight as it was, checked the impetuousspeech upon his lips. 

"You will do nothing of the sort, " he said in a restrained voice. "Itis a matter entirely between him and me; and that's an end of thesubject, once for all. "

Evelyn, startled into silence, stood motionless till the study doorclosed behind her husband; then, with a sigh of exasperation, hurriedout of the room, leaving Honor to her own disturbing thoughts. 

 * * * * *

Each month was forcing upon the girl a clearer revelation of the clashof temperament, which threatened to bring about serious disunionbetween these two, whose happiness had become a vital part of herlife; and her spirit was troubled beyond measure. The strongestpassion of Honor Meredith's heart was the true woman's passion--toprotect and help. But worldly wisdom warned her that her hands weretied; that man and wife must work out their own salvation, or thereverse, without help or hindrance from her. 

Since their return from Murree such flashes of dissension had becomeincreasingly frequent between them. It is astonishing how quickly twopeople can fall into a habit of discord. Abstinence from tobacco wasnot without its effect upon Desmond's nerves and temper, tried as theywere by Evelyn's pin-prick methods of warfare; while she herself wasoften strung into irritability by her own unacknowledged troubles. 

The passing relief wrought by Miss Kresney's loan had evaporated withthe realisation that she had only contracted a debt in anotherdirection--a debt more embarrassing than all the rest put together;for she knew that she would never have the courage to speak of it toher husband. Miss Kresney had told her to take her time in the matterof repayment, and she had taken it in generous measure. Not a fractionof the three hundred rupees had been repaid as yet; and, by way ofatonement, Evelyn felt constrained to a more decisive friendlinesswith both brother and sister--a fact which Owen Kresney noted withsatisfaction; and which did not improve matters between herself andTheo. 

As the weeks wore on he devoted his spare time more exclusively topolo and Persian; continuing his lessons to Honor; and rarely spendinghis evenings in the drawing-room, unless the girl's music held himspellbound, and ensured the avoidance of dangerous topics. Evelynretorted by a renewed zest for tennis and tea-parties; an increasingtendency to follow the line of least resistance, regardless ofresults. Thus Honor found herself thrown more and more upon thecompanionship of Mrs Olliver, Mrs Conolly, and Paul Wyndham, whoseanxiety for Theo she guessed at, even as they guessed her own, thoughnever a word on the subject passed between them. 

Evelyn's anxiety was reserved exclusively for herself. She had senseenough to perceive that nothing could defer the day of reckoning muchlonger; and on a certain afternoon in early December she exhumed herdetested sheaf of bills and sat down at her bureau to areconsideration of the hopelessness of things in general. 

A panel of winter sunshine, flung across the room from the verandahdoor, enveloped her in a glow of light and warmth. The drowsiness ofan Indian noon brooded over the compound. Honor was out riding withPaul Wyndham; Theo busy in the next room, and very unlikely tointerrupt her, she reflected with a pang of regret. In an hour's timeshe was going over to tea and tennis with the Kresneys; and haddecided that, after six months of silence, some mention must be madeof a fixed scale of repayment, to begin with the New Year. But in thatevent, what hope of meeting any of those other demands, that wereagain being urgently brought to her notice? What possibility ofordering the two new gowns--bare necessities, in her esteem--to gracethe coming Christmas week at Lahore?

This same "week" is the central social event of the Punjab coldweather, when most officers on the Border are certain of their fifteendays' leave; when from all corners of the Province men and womengravitate towards its dusty capital--women with dress baskets offormidable size; men armed with polo-sticks, and with ponies, belovedcricket-bats and saddles!

Through all the dismal coil of things, this one hour of festivitygleamed on Evelyn Desmond's horizon like a light in a dark room. Forone brief blessed week she would be in her element, would escape fromthe galling restraint of economy; and, more than all, in thebackground of her mind there lurked a hope that by some means shemight recapture that vigorous, self-poised husband of hers, whose lovewas, after all, the one real necessity of her life; and whom she nowsaw slipping slowly, surely out of reach. But to recapture she mustrecaptivate; and to that end faultless frocks were indispensable. 

She leaned her head upon her hands, and fell to building extravagantair-castles that eclipsed all practical considerations whatsoever. 

So complete was her abstraction, that she failed to hear the studydoor open, and was rudely startled back to reality by her husband'svoice at her elbow, sharp and stern, as she had never heard it tillnow. 

"What _is_ the meaning of this, Evelyn?" he demanded, bringing hishand down on the desk beside her; and one glance at the half sheetlying beneath it was enough. That particular bill had grown painfullyfamiliar during the last few months. It was from Lahore, and its totalwas no less than three hundred rupees. Her husband's waiting silencewas more disconcerting than speech. 

"It's mine, " she murmured breathlessly; and snatched at the offendingscrap of paper, tearing it in two. 

"The bill is mine now, " Desmond rebuked her with studied equanimity. "You can't cancel it by destroying it. No doubt you've got anothercopy. Will you let me have it and any others you happen to have byyou?"

"Where's the use of that?. . . You can't pay off anything now. "

"I can and will pay off every penny. But I must know exactly how youstand. "

For all his coldness, the assurance fell on her heart like rain onthirsty soil. Where the money was to come from she could not guess. But she knew enough of the man to feel sure that his words would befulfilled to the letter. 

One consideration only withheld her from reply. How much did she dareconfess to him even now? Not Miss Kresney's transaction; nor the needof new dresses for Lahore. But the rest!. . . What an unspeakablecomfort it would be to fling all the rest on to his shoulders, thatseemed broad and strong enough to carry her burdens and his own. 

Her hesitancy pricked him to impatience. 

"Well, Evelyn, I am waiting for your answer. Are there other billsbesides that one?--Yes or No. I want the truth. Don't stop toembroider it. "

At that the blood flew to her cheeks. She sprang up and faced him, tremulous, but defiant. 

"If you say things like _that_ to me, I won't tell you anything at all. . . Ever. " And turning sharply away, to hide her tears, she went overto the mantelpiece and leaned upon it, keeping her back towards him. 

Desmond followed her. 

"I am sorry if I hurt you, " he said, a touch of bitterness in histone. "But the fact that I can speak so without doing you a grossinjustice hurts me more than you are ever likely to understand. "

"You make it all seem much worse--than it really is, " she answeredwithout looking round. "I haven't done anything dreadful, after all. Heaps of people get into debt. You weren't so angry with Mr Denvil;and--and--if you hadn't been in such a hurry to help him, you'd havefound it easier to help me now. "

"No need to fling that in my teeth, or drag the Boy into thediscussion. The cases are not parallel, and you have only yourself tothank that my money went to him instead of you. In my anxiety to avoidanything of this sort, I have questioned you several times, and eachtime you have told me a lie. The whole pile of bills are nothing to mein comparison with that. I suppose I ought to have known that youcould hardly dress as you do on the little I can spare. But I was foolenough to trust you implicitly. " He paused, and added with greatergentleness: "What's more, I shall trust you again, unless you makethat quite impossible. But I warn you--Ladybird, that if ever you dokill my trust in you, you will kill--everything else along with it. "

"_Theo!_"

There was sharp pain in the cry, and she swung round, flinging out herhands with a pathetic gesture of entreaty. He did not take them as shehalf hoped he would; but stood looking at her in a thoughtful silence. Then, "If you care as much as that, " he said slowly, "it lies with younot to fling away the thing you care for. Will you please let me seethose bills. "

"They are on the bureau. You can take them. "

She turned again to the mantelpiece, for her lips were not quitesteady. 

"You were going to tell me about them, perhaps?"

"N--no. I wasn't. "

He sighed; and taking up the papers, looked through them absently, toodeeply troubled to grasp their contents. 

"Are these all?" he asked quietly. 

"Nearly all. "

"Have you any idea of the total?"

"About six hundred rupees. "

A short silence followed, during which she again heard the rustle ofpaper behind her, and longed for a sight of his face. 

"I am afraid this knocks the Lahore week on the head, " he said atlength. "I am bound to run down for the Polo Tournament, of course;but I can come straight back, and we must do without the rest of itthis year. "

The incredible words roused Evelyn to open mutiny. Once more she facedhim, her head flung backward, a ring of resolve in her voice. 

"No, Theo, . . . I _won't_ do without the rest of it. _You_ don't care, I daresay! So long as you can win the Punjab Cup, nothing elsematters. But Christmas week is my only bit of real pleasure in all thecold weather, and I _will_ go down for it, . . . What_ever_ you say. "

Theo Desmond was completely taken aback; and when surprise gave placeto speech, his tone suggested the iron hand under the velvet glove. 

"My dear little woman, you are talking nonsense. If I find itimpossible to manage Lahore, you will remain here. There can be noquestion about that. "

But Evelyn persisted with the courage of despair. 

"Then you mustn't find it impossible, . . . That's all! There has beennothing but giving up ever since we came from Murree. I'm sick of it;and I won't give up Christmas week, too. It's quite hard enough for meas it is, being stranded in the most hopeless part of India because ofyou, without your grudging my few little pleasures as well. " Andsinking into a chair, she hid her face in her hands. 

The victory is more often to the unscrupulous than to the strong. Hiswife's injustice cut Desmond to the quick. Impulsive renunciationsprang to his lips; and was only checked by the remembrance that hehad given Honor his word. 

"Evelyn--Evelyn, " he pleaded with sudden vehemence, "for Heaven's sakehave a little consideration for facts--if you have none for me. Igrudge you nothing--I have never done so--and you know it. But--if youreally find Frontier life intolerable, I can only give you free leaveto go home, directly I scrape together the money for your passage. "

"Go home----?" she echoed in blank bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"What I say. "

"But--wouldn't you come too?"

"No. I have no leave due now; and if I had, I couldn't afford to takeit. "

"You want me to go?" she flashed out in a tremor of apprehension. "I'monly a hindrance to you here. That's the real truth, I suppose?"

"I never said that, and I have given you no grounds for thinking it. "

"But do you, Theo--_do_ you?"

Her eyes searched his face for confirmation of her suspicion, andfound none. 

"What I want or don't want is beside the mark, " he said. "I naturallywish to see you happy; and as that evidently can't be managed here, Iam willing to let you go and be happy elsewhere. "

Her eyes fell and her answer came almost in a whisper. 

"But I couldn't be happy anywhere else--without you. "

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes. "

"You'd prefer to stay here--with me?"

"Yes. "

He laid his hand for an instant on her bent head. 

"Stay then, Ladybird, by all means. Only, for pity's sake, spare meany more of the sort of things you said just now. "

"And you won't stop me from going to Lahore, Theo?--Promise. "

A swift change of expression crossed his face. 

"I can't promise that. I'll do my best not to disappoint you, but Imust get all these cleared off before I think of anything else. "

"How _can_ you manage to clear them off--now?"

"Why trouble your head about side issues? They will all be paid beforeChristmas; that ought to be enough for you. "

"But it's not enough. Tell me what you are going to do--tell me. Iwon't be pushed on one side like a child. "

Desmond frowned. 

"Well--if you insist on having it, I am going to sell Diamond. "

She started and caught at his arm. For all his matter-of-factcoolness, she knew what those half-dozen words meant to her husband. 

"No, --no Theo. Not Diamond! He's the best of them all. "

"Exactly. He'll sell quicker and fetch a longer price than any of theothers; that's why--he must go. "

"But the tournament? Captain Olliver's mad about winning the Cup thisyear. "

"I know that. So am I. I shall manage about a third pony, no fear. Time enough to think of that later. I must go and make out thoseadvertisements. "

He set his teeth upon the word and turned to leave her, but her voicearrested him half-way to the door. 

"Theo!"

"Well?"

"Are you _sure_ there's nothing else that can be done? It--it isn'tfair for you to lose the pony you love best, just because of a fewdressmakers' bills. "

At that his pent-up bitterness slipped from leash. 

"Upon my soul, Evelyn, you're right. But there's no other way out ofthe difficulty, so let's have no more words about it: they don't makethings easier to bear. "

CHAPTER XIV. 

I SIMPLY INSIST. 

 "The fountains of my hidden life, Are, through thy friendship, fair. " --EMERSON. 

Not many days later Desmond's advertisements appeared simultaneouslyin the only two newspapers of Upper India; and he set his face like aflint in anticipation of the universal remonstrance in store for him, when the desperate step he had taken became known to the regiment. 

He was captain of the finest polo team on the frontier; the one greattournament of the year--open to every Punjab regiment, horse andfoot--would begin in less than a fortnight; and he, who had neverparted with a polo pony in his life, was advertising the pick of hisstable for sale. A proceeding so unprecedented, so perplexing to allwho knew him, could not, in the nature of things, be passed over insilence. Desmond knew--none better--that victory or defeat may hang onthe turn of a hair; that, skilled player though he was, theintroduction of a borrowed pony, almost at the last moment, into ateam trained for months to play in perfect accord was unwise, to saythe least of it; knew also that he would be called upon to justify hisown unwisdom at so critical a juncture, when all hearts were set onwinning the coveted Punjab Cup. 

And justification was out of the question, --there lay the sting. 

Loyalty to Evelyn sealed his lips; and even the loss of his best-lovedpony was less hard to bear than the possibility of being misjudged byhis brother officers, whose faith in him had come to be an integralpart of his life. 

In his present cooler frame of mind he saw that his action had beenover-hasty; but with men of vehement temperament, to think is to feel, to feel is to act, --reflection comes last, if it ever comes at all. The first heat of vexation, the discovery of his wife'suntrustworthiness and the sacrifice it entailed, had blinded him toall minor considerations. 

But these were details that could not be put into words. The thing wasdone. To put a brave face on it, and to shield Evelyn from the resultof her own misdoing--there lay his simple duty in a nutshell. The riskmust be accepted, and the Punjab Cup carried off in its despite. Thisman owed more than he knew to the "beholden face of victory"; to hislife-long determination that, no matter what happened, he mustconquer. 

In the meanwhile immediate issues demanded his full attention. 

Harry Denvil, as might be expected, sounded the first note of protest. 

He invaded the sacred precincts of his senior's study with audaciouslack of ceremony. 

"Forgive me, Desmond: but there was no one in the verandah, and Icouldn't wait. Of course you know what's in the wind. The Colonel cameon that advertisement of yours in 'The Pioneer' just before tiffin, and you should have heard him swear! He showed it to Major Wyndham, and asked: 'Was it a practical joke?' But the Major seemed quite cutup; said he knew nothing about it, and you would probably have goodreasons to give. The rest didn't take it so quietly; but of course _I_understood at once. For God's sake, old chap, cancel that confoundedadvertisement, and take back your eight hundred. I can borrow it againfrom the _shroff_, just for the present. Anything's better thanletting you in for the loss of Diamond at a time like this. "

He broke off more from lack of breath than lack of matter; andDesmond, who had risen to cope with the intruder, put both hands uponthe Boy's shoulders, a great kindliness softening his eyes. 

"My dear Harry, don't distress yourself, " he said. "I appreciate yourgenerosity a good deal more than I care to say. But you are not in anyway to blame for the loss of Diamond. "

"But, Desmond--I don't understand----"

"There are more things in heaven and earth. . . !" Desmond quoted, smiling. "It's like your impertinence to understand everything atfour-and-twenty. "

"Oh, shut up!" the other retorted, laughing in spite of himself. "Can't you see I'm in earnest? You don't mean to tell me----?"

"No, Harry, I don't mean to tell you anything about it. I'm notresponsible to you for my actions. Stay and have a pipe with me tocool you down a bit. Not another word about my affairs, or I take youby the shoulders and put you outside the door. "

Thus much for Denvil. But the rest could not be treated in thissummary fashion. 

Wyndham put in an appearance at polo that afternoon. He playedfitfully; and at other times rode out to the ground, which lay a mileor so beyond the station. To-day it chanced--or possibly Paul socontrived it--that he and Desmond rode home together, a little behindthe others. 

A low sun stretched out all the hills; distorted the shadows of theriders; and flung a golden pollen of radiance over the barren land. 

The habit of silence was strong between these two men; and for a whileit lasted unbroken. Desmond was riding his favourite pony, a spiritedchestnut Arab, swift as a swallow, sensitive as a child, bearing onhis forehead the white star to which he owed his name. The snafflehung loose upon his neck, and Desmond's hand rested upon the silkenshoulder as if in a mute caress. He knew what was coming, and awaitedPaul's pleasure with stoical resignation. 

Wyndham considered the strong, straight lines of his friend's profilethoughtfully; then he spoke:

"You gave us all rather a shock this morning, Theo. "

"I'm sorry for that. I was afraid there'd be some bother about it. Butneeds must--when the devil drives. "

"The devil that drives you is your own incurable pride, " Paul answeredwith unusual warmth. "You know, without forcing me to put it inwords, that every rupee I possess is at your service. You might havegiven me a chance before going such lengths as this. "

Desmond shook his head. The man's fastidious soul revolted from theidea of using Paul's money to pay his wife's bills. 

"Not in these circumstances, " he said. "It wasn't pride that held meback; but a natural sense of the justice and--fitness of things. Youmust take that on trust, Paul. "

"Why, of course, my dear chap. But how about the fitness of partingwith that pony just before the tournament? As captain of the team, doyou think you are acting quite fairly by the Regiment?"

The shot told. Among soldiers of the best sort the Regiment is apt tobe a fetish, and to Desmond the lightest imputation of disregard forits welfare was intolerable. 

"Is that how the other fellows look at it?" he asked, a troubled notein his voice. 

"Well, if they do, one can hardly blame them. They naturally want toknow what you mean to do about the tournament after you have let yourbest pony go? I take it for granted that you have some sort of plan inyour head. "

"Yes. I am counting on you to lend me Esmeralda. It's only the 6thnow; and if I train her for all I'm worth between this and the 20th, Ican get her up to the scratch. "

Paul's answering smile was oddly compact of tenderness and humour. 

"So that's your notion? You'll deign to make use of me so far? Upon mysoul, Theo, you deserve that I should refuse, since you won't give methe satisfaction of doing what would be far more to the purpose. "

Desmond looked his friend steadily in the eyes. 

"You'll not refuse, though, " he said quietly, and Paul shook his head. By way of thanks, Theo laid his hand impulsively upon Wyndham's arm. 

"I'm sure you understand, dear old man, that it's not easy or pleasantfor me to part with Diamond, or to shut you out and refuse your help;but I can't endure that the rest of them should think me slack orcareless of their interests. "

"They know you far too well to think anything of the sort. By the way, what arrangements are you making for Lahore?"

"None at all. Honor will go, I daresay; and I shall run down for thepolo. But fifteen days' leave is out of the question. "

Paul turned sharply in his saddle. 

"Now, look here, Theo--you're going too far. I make no offer thistime. I simply insist!"

Desmond hesitated. The thought of Evelyn was knocking at his heart. 

"You know I hate accepting that sort of thing, " he objected, "evenfrom you. "

Wyndham laughed. 

"That's your peculiar form of selfishness, my dear chap. You want tokeep the monopoly of giving in your own hands. Very wholesome for youto have the tables turned. Besides, " urged the diplomatist, boldlylaying down his trump card, "it would be a great disappointment toyour wife not to go down with us all and see the matches. "

"Yes. That's just the difficulty. "

"I'm delighted to hear it! The Lahore week shall be my Christmaspresent to her and you; and there's an end of _that_ dilemma. "

"Thank you, Paul, " Desmond said simply. "I'll tell her to-night. Comeover to dinner, " he added as they parted. "The Ollivers will be there;and I may stand in need of protection. "

The sound of music greeted him from the hall, and he found Honorplaying alone in the dusk. 

"Please go on, " he said, as she rose to greet him. "It's what I wantmore than anything at this moment. "

The girl flushed softly, and turned back to the instrument. Any onewho had heard her playing before Desmond came in, could scarcely havefailed to note the subtle change in its quality. She made of her musica voice of sympathy, evolved from the heart of the great Germanmasters; whose satisfying strength and simplicity--so far removed fromthe restless questioning of our later day--were surely the outcome ofa large faith in God; of the certainty that effort, aspiration, andendurance, despite their seeming futility, can never fail to be verymuch worth while. 

In this fashion Honor reassured her friend to his completecomprehension; and while he sat listening and watching her in the halflight, he fell to wondering how it came about that this girl, with hergenerous warmth of heart, her twofold beauty of the spirit and theflesh, should still be finding her central interest in the lives ofothers rather than in her own. Was the inevitable awakening over anddone with? Or was it yet to come? He inclined to the latter view, andthe thought of Paul sprang to his mind. Here, surely, was the onewoman worthy of his friend. But then, Paul held strong views aboutmarriage, and it was almost impossible to picture the good fellow inlove. 

Nevertheless, the good fellow was, at that time, more profoundly, moreirrevocably in love than Desmond himself had ever been, notwithstanding the fact of his marriage. His theories had proved meredust in the balance when weighed against his strong, simple-heartedlove for Honor Meredith. Yet the passing of nine months found him nonearer to open recantation. If a man has learnt nothing else by thetime he is thirty-eight, he has usually gained possession of his soul, and at no stage of his life had Paul shown the least talent for takinga situation by storm. In the attainment of Honor's friendship, thismost modest of men felt himself blest beyond desert; and watch as hemight for the least indication of a deeper feeling, he had hithertowatched in vain. It never occurred to him that his peculiarly reticentform of wooing--if wooing it could be called--was hardly calculated toenlighten her as to the state of his heart. He merely reined in hisgreat longing and awaited possible developments; accepting, in allthankfulness, the certain good that was his, and determined not torisk the loss of it without some hope of greater gain. 

But of all these things Desmond guessed nothing as he sat, in the duskof that December evening, speculating on the fate of the girl whosefriendship he frankly regarded as one of the goodliest gifts of life. 

When at last she rose from the piano, he rose also. 

"_Thank_ you, " he said with quiet emphasis. "How well you understand!"

"Don't let yourself be troubled by anything the Ollivers may say orthink, " she answered softly. "You are doing your simple duty, Theo, and I am sure Major Wyndham, even without knowing all the facts, willunderstand quite as well--as I do. "

With that she left him, because the fulness of her understanding put acheck upon further speech. 

That night, when the little party had broken up without open warfare, and Desmond stood alone with his wife before the drawing-room fire, hetold her of Wyndham's generosity. 

"You'll get your week at Lahore, Ladybird, " he said. "And you owe itto Paul. He wishes us to accept the trip as his Christmas present. "

"Oh, Theo. . . !" A quick flush revealed her delight at the news, and shemade a small movement towards him; but nothing came of it. Six monthsago she would have nestled close to him, certain of the tenderendearments which had grown strangely infrequent of late. Now anindefinable shyness checked the spontaneous caress, the eager wordsupon her lips. But her husband, who was looking thoughtfully into thefire, seemed serenely unaware of the fact. 

"You're happy about it, aren't you?" he asked at length. 

"Yes--of course--very happy. "

"That's all right; and I'm glad I wasn't driven to disappoint you. Nowget to bed; and sleep soundly on your rare bit of good luck. I havestill a lot of work to get through. "

She accepted his kindly dismissal with an altogether new docility; andon arriving in her own room gave conclusive proof of her happiness byflinging herself on the bed in a paroxysm of stifled sobbing. 

"Oh, if only I had told him sooner!" she lamented through her tears. "Now I don't believe he'll ever really forgive me, or love me properlyagain. "

And, in a measure, she was right. Trust her he might, as in dutybound; but to be as he had been before eating the bitter fruit ofknowledge was, for the present at all events, out of his power. 

Since their momentous talk nearly a week ago, Evelyn had felt herselfimperceptibly held at arms' length, and the vagueness of the sensationincreased her discomfort tenfold. No word of reproach had passed hislips, nor any further mention of Diamond or the bills; nothing soquickly breeds constraint between two people as conscious avoidance ofa subject that is seldom absent from the minds of both. Yet Theo wasscrupulously kind, forbearing, good-tempered--everything, in short, save the tender, lover-like husband he had been to her during thefirst eighteen months of marriage. And she had only herself toblame, --there lay the sharpest pang of all. Life holds no anodyne forthe sorrows we bring upon ourselves. 

As the days wore on she watched Theo's face anxiously, at post time, for any sign of an answer to that hateful advertisement; and beforethe week's end she knew that the punishment that should have been hershad fallen on her husband's shoulders. 

Coming into breakfast one morning, she found him studying an openletter with a deep furrow between his brows. At sight of her hestarted and slipped it into his pocket. 

The meal was a silent one. Evelyn found the pattern of her platecuriously engrossing. Desmond, after a few hurried mouthfuls, excusedhimself and went out. Then Evelyn looked up; and the tears that hungon her lashes overflowed. 

"He--he's gone to the stables, Honor, " she said brokenly. "He got ananswer this morning;--I'm sure he did. But he--he won't tell meanything now. Where's the _use_ of being married to him if he's alwaysgoing on like this? I wish--I wish he could sell--_me_ to that man, instead of Diamond. He wouldn't mind it _half_ as much----"

And with this tragic announcement--which, for at least five minutes, she implicitly believed--her head went down upon her hands. 

Honor soothed her very tenderly, realising that she sorrowed with thedespair of a child who sees the world's end in every broken toy. 

"Hush--hush!" she remonstrated. "You mustn't think anything sofoolish, so unjust. Theo is very magnanimous, Evelyn. He will see youare sorry, and then it will all go smoothly again. "

"But there's the--the other thing, " murmured the pretty sinner with adoleful shake of her head. "He won't forgive me that; and he _doesn't_seem to see that I'm sorry. I wanted to tell him this morning, when Isaw that letter. But he somehow makes me afraid to say a word aboutit. "

"Better not try yet awhile, dear. When a man is in trouble, there isnothing he thanks one for so heartily as for letting him alone till itis well over. "

Evelyn looked up again with a misty smile. 

"I can't think why you know so much about men, Honor. How do you findout those sort of things?"

"I suppose it's because I've always cared very much for men, "--shemade the statement quite unblushingly. "Loving people is the only sureway of understanding them in the long-run. "

"_Is_ it?. . . You are clever, Honor. But it doesn't seem to help memuch with Theo. "

Such prompt, personal application of her philosophy of the heart was alittle disconcerting. The girl could not well reply that in love thereare a thousand shades, and very few are worthy of the name. 

"It _will_ help you in time, " she said reassuringly. "It is one of thefew things that cannot fail. And to-day, at least, you have learntthat when things are going hardly with Theo, it is kindest and wisestto leave him alone. "

Evelyn understood this last, and registered a valiant resolve to thateffect. 

But the day's events gave her small chance of acting on her new-foundknowledge. Desmond himself took the initiative: and save for a barehalf-hour at tiffin, she saw him no more until the evening. 

Perhaps only the man who has trained and loved a polo pony canestimate the pain and rebellion of spirit that he was combating, doggedly and in silence; or condone the passing bitterness he felttowards his uncomprehending wife. 

He spent more time than usual in the stables, where Diamond nuzzledinto his breast-pocket for slices of apple and sugar; and Diamond's_sais_ lifted up his voice and wept, on receipt of an order to startfor Pindi with his charge on the following day. 

"There is no Sahib like my Sahib in all Hind, " he protested, histurban within an inch of Desmond's riding-boot. "The Sahib is myfather and my mother! How should we serve a stranger, Hazúr, --the ponyand I?"

"Nevertheless, it is an order, " Desmond answered not unkindly, "thatthou shouldst remain with the pony, sending word from time to timethat all goeth well with him. Rise up. It is enough. "

Returning to the house, he hardened his heart, and accepted theunwelcome offer from Pindi. 

"What a confounded fool I am!" he muttered, as he stamped and sealedthe envelope. "I'd sooner shoot the little chap than part with him inthis way. "

But the letter was posted, nevertheless. 

He excused himself from polo, and rode over to Wyndham's bungalow, where he found Paul established in the verandah with his invariablecompanions--a pipe, and a volume of poetry or philosophy. 

"Come along, and beat me at rackets, old man, " he said withoutdismounting. "I'm 'off' polo to-day. We can go for a canterafterwards. "

Wyndham needed no further explanation. A glance at Theo's face wasenough. They spent four hours together; talked of all things in heavenand earth, except the one sore subject; and parted with a smile ofamused understanding. 

"Quite like old times!" Paul remarked, and Desmond nodded. For it wasa habit, dating from early days, that whenever the pin-pricks of lifechafed Theo's impatient spirit, he would seek out his friend, spend anhour or two in his company, and tell him precisely nothing. 

Thanks to Paul's good offices, dinner was a pleasanter meal than theearlier ones had been. But Evelyn looked white and woe-begone; andHonor wisely carried her off to bed, leaving Desmond to his pipe andhis own discouraging thoughts. 

These proved so engrossing that he failed to hear a step in theverandah, and started when two hands came quietly down upon hisshoulders. 

No need to ask whose they were. Desmond put up his own and caught themin a strong grip. 

"Old times again, is it?" he asked, with a short satisfied laugh. "Brought your pipe along?"

"Yes. "

"Good business. There's your chair, --it always seems yours to mestill. Have a 'peg'?"

Paul shook his head, and drew his chair up to the fire with deliberatesatisfaction. 

"Light up, then; and we'll make a night of it as we used to do in thedays before we learned wisdom, and paid for it in hard cash. "

"Talking of hard cash--what price d'you get?" the other askedabruptly. 

"Seven-fifty. "

"Will that cover everything?"

"Yes. "

"Theo, --why, in Heaven's name, won't you cancel this wretchedbusiness, and take the money from me instead?"

"Too late now. And, in any case, it's out of the question, for reasonsthat you would be the first to appreciate--if you knew them. "

"But look here--suppose I do know----"

Desmond lifted a peremptory hand. 

"Whatever you think you know, for God's sake don't put it into words. I'm bound to go through with this, Paul, in the only way that seemsright to me. Don't make it harder than it is already. Besides, " headded, with a brisk change of tone, "this is modern history! We'repledged to old times to-night. "

Evelyn's fantastic French clock struck three, in silver tones, beforethe two men parted. 

"It's an ill wind that blows no good, after all!" Desmond remarked, ashe stood in a wide splash of moonlight on the verandah steps. "I feelten years younger since the morning. Come again soon, dear old man;it's always good to see you. "

And Paul Wyndham, riding homeward under the myriad lamps of heaven, thanked God, in his simple devout fashion, for the courage andconstancy of his friend's heart. 

CHAPTER XV. 

GOOD ENOUGH, ISN'T IT?

 "One crowded hour of glorious life. " --SCOTT. 

The dusty parade-ground of Mian Mir, Lahore's military cantonment, vibrated from end to end with a rising tide of excitement. 

On all sides of the huge square eight thousand spectators, of everyrank and race and colour, were wedged into a compact mass forty orfifty deep: while in the central space, eight ponies scampered, scuffled, and skidded in the wake of a bamboo-root polo-ball; theirshoofs rattling like hailstones on the hard ground. 

And close about them--as close as boundary flags and distracted nativepolicemen would permit--pressed that solid wall of onlookers--soldiers, British and native, from thirty regiments at least; officers, inuniform and out of it; ponies and players of defeated teams, manfullyresigned to the "fortune o' war, " and not forgetful of the obviousfluke by which their late opponents had scored the game; officialdignitaries, laying aside dignity for the occasion; drags, phaetons, landaus, and dog-carts, gay as a summer parterre in a wind, with therestless parasols and bonnets of half the women in the Punjab; scoresand scores of _saïses_, betting freely on the match, arguing, shouting, or shampooing the legs of ponies, whose turn was yet tocome; and through all the confused hubbub of laughter, cheering, andmercifully incoherent profanity, a British infantry band hammering outwith insular assurance, "We'll fight and we'll conquer again andagain. "

It was the last day of the old year--a brilliant Punjab Decemberday--and the last "chukker" of the final match for the Cup was in fullprogress. It lay between the Punjab Cavalry from Kohat and a crackHussar team, fresh from Home and Hurlingham, mounted on pricelessponies, six to each man, and upheld by an overweening confidence thatthey were bound to "sweep the board. " They had swept it accordingly;and although anticipating "a tough tussle with those game 'Piffer'[25]chaps, " were disposed to look upon the Punjab Cup as their ownproperty for at least a year to come. 

[25] Abbreviation of Punjab Irregular Frontier Force. 

Desmond and his men--Olliver and two native officers--knew all thiswell enough; knew also that money means pace, and weight, and aliberal supply of fresh mounts, and frankly recognised that the oddswere heavily against them. But there remained two points worthconsidering:--they had been trained to play in perfect unison, horseand man; and they were all in deadly earnest. 

They had fought their way, inch by inch, through the tournament tothis final tie; and it had been a glorious fight so far. The Hussars, whose self-assurance had led them to underrate the strength of theenemy, were playing now like men possessed. The score stood at twogoals all, and electric shocks of excitement tingled through thecrowd. 

Theo Desmond was playing "back, " as a wise captain should, to guardthe goal and ensure the completest control over his team; and hismount was a chestnut Arab with three white stockings and a star uponhis forehead. 

 * * * * *

This unlooked-for circumstance requires explanation. 

A week earlier, on returning from his morning ride to the bungalowwhere Paul and his own party were staying, Desmond had been confrontedby Diamond in a brand-new saddle-cloth marked with his initials; whileDiamond's _sais_, with a smile that displayed every tooth in his head, salaamed to the ground. 

"Well, I'm shot!" he exclaimed. "Dunni, --what's the meaning of this?"

The man held out a note in Colonel Buchanan's handwriting. Desmonddismounted, flung an arm over the Arab's neck, and opened the notewith a strange quickening of his breath. 

The Colonel stated, in a few friendly words, that as Diamond was toogood a pony to be allowed to go out of the Regiment, he and hisbrother officers had decided to buy him back for the Polo Club. MajorWilkinson of the Loyal Monmouth had been uncommonly decent over thewhole thing; and, as captain of the team, Desmond would naturally havethe use of Diamond during the tournament, and afterwards, except whenhe happened to be away on leave. 

It took him several minutes to grasp those half dozen lines ofwriting; and if the letters grew indistinct as he read, he had smallcause to be ashamed of the fact. 

On looking up, he found Paul watching him from the verandah; anddismissing the _sais_ he sprang up the steps at a bound. 

"Paul, --was it your notion?"

But the other smiled and shook his head. 

"Brilliant inspirations are not in my line, old chap. It was MrsOlliver. She and the Colonel did most of it between them, though we'reall implicated, of course; and I don't know when I've seen the Colonelso keen about anything in his life. "

"God bless you all!" Desmond muttered under his breath. "I'm bound towin the Cup for you after this. "

 * * * * *

And now, as the final "chukker" of the tournament drew to a close, itdid indeed seem that the ambition of many years was on the eve offulfilment. Excitement rose higher every minute. Cheers rang out onthe smallest provocation. General sympathy was obviously with theFrontier team, and the suspense of the little contingent from Kohathad risen to a pitch beyond speech. 

All the native officers and men who could get leave for the greatoccasion formed a picturesque group in the forefront of the crowd;Rajinder Singh towering in their midst, his face set like a mask; hiseyes fierce with the lust of victory. Evelyn Desmond, installed besideHonor in a friend's dog-cart, sat with her small hands clenched, herface flushed to the temples, disjointed murmurs breaking from her atintervals. Honor sat very still and silent, gripping the iron bar ofthe box-seat, her whole soul centred on the game. Paul Wyndham, whohad mounted the step on her side of the cart, and whose hand claspedthe bar within half an inch of hers, had not spoken since the ponieslast went out; and to all appearance his concentration equalled herown. But her nearness affected him as the proximity of iron affectsthe needle of a compass, deflecting his thoughts and eyes continuallyfrom the central point of interest. 

And what of Frank Olliver?

Her effervescent spirit can only be likened to champagne just beforethe cork flies off. Perched upon the front seat of a drag, withColonel Buchanan, she noted every stroke and counter-stroke, everypoint gained and lost, with the practised knowledge of a man, and theone-sided ardour of a woman. She had already cheered herself hoarse;but still kept up a running fire of comment, emphasised by anoccasional pressure of the Colonel's coat-sleeve, to the acutediscomfiture of that self-contained Scot. 

"We'll not be far off the winning post now, " she assured him at thisjuncture. "Our ponies are playing with their heads entirely, and theothers are losing theirs because of the natives and the cheering. There goes the ball straight for the boundary again!--Well done, Geoff! But the long fellow's caught it--Saints alive! 'Twould havebeen a goal but for Theo. How's _that_ for a fine stroke, now?"

For Desmond, with a clean, splitting smack, had sent the ball flyingacross three-fourths of the ground. 

"Mind the goal!" he shouted to his half-back, Alla Dad Khan, asDiamond headed after the ball like a lightning streak, with threeracers--maddened by whip and spur and their own deliriousexcitement--clattering upon his tail; and a fusilade of clapping, cheers, and yells broke out on all sides. 

The ball, checked in mid career, came spinning back to them with theforce of a rifle-bullet. The speed had been terrific, and the wrenchof pulling up wrought dire confusion. Followed a sharp scrimmage, abewildering jumble of horses and men, rattling of sticks andunlimited breaking of the third commandment; till the ball shot outagain into the open, skimming, like a live thing, through a haze offine white dust, Desmond close upon it, as before; the Hussar"forwards" in hot pursuit. 

But their "back" was ready to receive the ball, and Desmond along withit. Both players struck simultaneously. Their cane-handled sticks metwith a crack that was heard all over the ground. Then the ball leaptclean through the goal-posts, the head of Desmond's stick leapt afterit, and the crowd scattered right and left before a thundering onrushof ponies. Cheer upon cheer, yell upon yell, went up from eightthousand throats at once. British soldiers flung their helmets in theair; the band lost its head and broke into a triumphant clash ofdiscord; while Colonel Buchanan, forgetful of his Scottish decorum, stood up in the drag and shouted like any subaltern. 

He was down in the thick of the _melée_, ready to greet Desmond as herode off the battlefield, a breathless unsightly victor, covered withdust and glory. 

"Stunningly played--the whole lot of you!"

"Thank you, sir. Good enough, isn't it?"

A vigorous handshake supplied the rest; and Desmond trotted forward tothe dog-cart, where Evelyn greeted him with a rush of congratulation. Honor had no word, but Desmond found her eyes and smile sufficientlyeloquent. 

"Best fight, bar none, I ever had in my life!" he declared by way ofacknowledgment. "We're all off to the B. C. Mess as soon as the L. G. Has presented the Cup, and we've got some of the dust out of ourthroats. Come along, Paul, old man. "

And he went his way in such elation of spirits as a captain may justlyfeel whose team has carried off the Punjab Cup in the face ofoverwhelming odds. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

SIGNED AND SEALED. 

 "Leave the dead moments to bury their dead; Let us kiss, and break the spell. " --OWEN MEREDITH. 

The Fancy Ball, given on Old Year's night by the Punjab Commission, was, in Evelyn's eyes, the supreme event of the week; and whenDesmond, after a mad gallop from the Bengal Cavalry Mess, threw openhis bedroom door, he was arrested by a vision altogether unexpected, and altogether satisfying to his fastidious taste. 

A transformed Evelyn stood before the long glass, wrapt in happycontemplation of her own image. From the fillet across her forehead, with its tremulous wire antennæ, to the sandalled slipper that showedbeneath her silken draperies, all was gold. Two shimmering wings ofgauze sprang from her shoulders; her hair, glittering with gold dust, waved to her waist; and a single row of topaz gleamed on the pearltint of her throat like drops of wine. 

"By Jove, Ladybird, --how lovely you look!"

She started, and turned upon him a face of radiance. 

"I'm the Golden Butterfly. Do you like me, Theo, really?"

"I do;--no question. Where on earth did you get it all?"

"At Simla, last year. Muriel Walter invented it for me. " Her colourdeepened, and she lowered her eyes. "I didn't show it to youbefore, --because----"

"Yes, yes, --I know what you mean. Don't distress yourself over that. You'll have _your_ triumph to-night, Ladybird! Remember my dances, please, when you're besieged by the other fellows! Upon my word, youlook such a perfect butterfly that I shall hardly dare lay a hand onyou!"

"You may dare, though, " she said softly. "I won't break in pieces ifyou do. "

Shy invitation lurked in her look and tone; but apparently her husbandfailed to perceive it. 

"I'll put you to the test later on, " he said, with an amused laugh. "Imust go now, and translate myself into Charles Surface, or I'll belate. "

Left alone again, she turned back to her looking-glass and sighed; buta single glance at it comforted her surprisingly. 

"He was in a hurry, " she reflected, by way of further consolation, "and I've got four dances with him after all. "

 * * * * *

Theo Desmond inscribed few names on his programme beyond those of hiswife, Mrs Olliver, and Honor Meredith. 

"You must let me have a good few dances, Honor, " he said to her, "andhang Mrs Grundy! We are outsiders here, and you and I understand oneanother. "

She surrendered her programme with smiling submission. "Do you alwaysorder people to give you dances in that imperative fashion?"

"Only when I'm set on having them, and daren't risk refusal! I'll goone better than Paul, if I may. I didn't know he had it in him to beso grasping. "

And he returned the card on which the initials P. W. Appeared fourtimes in Wyndham's neat handwriting. 

Never, in all his days had Paul asked a woman to give him four dances;and as he claimed Honor for the first of them, he wondered whether hisnew-found boldness would carry him farther still. Her beauty andgraciousness, her enthusiasm over the afternoon's triumph, exalted himfrom the sober levels of patience and modesty to unscaled heights ofaspiration. But not until their second valse together did an openingfor speech present itself. 

They had deserted the packed moving mass, in whose midst dancing waslittle more than a promenade under difficulties, and stood aside inan alcove that opened off the ballroom. 

"Look at Evelyn. Isn't she charming in that dress?" Honor exclaimed, as the Golden Butterfly whirled past, like an incarnate sunbeam, inher husband's arms. "I feel a Methuselah when I see how freshly andrapturously she is enjoying it all. This is my seventh CommissionBall, Major Wyndham! No doubt most people think it high time I hid mydiminished head in England. But my head refuses to feeldiminished, "--she lifted it a little in speaking, --"and I prefer toremain where I am. "

"On the Border?"

"Yes. On the Border for choice. "

"You were keen to get there, I remember, " he said, restraining hiseagerness. "And you are not disappointed, after nine months of it?"

"Disappointed?--I think they have been almost the best months of mylife. "

She spoke with sudden fervour, looking straight before her into thebrilliant, shifting crowd. 

Paul's pulses quickened. He saw possibilities ahead. 

"Do you mean----? Would you be content to live there--for good?"

His tone caught her attention, and she turned to him withdisconcerting directness of gaze. 

"Yes, " she said quietly, "I would be quite content to live on theFrontier--with John, if only he would have me. Now we might surely goon dancing, Major Wyndham. "

Paul put his arm about her in silence. His time had not yet come; andhe took up his burden of waiting again, if with less hope, yet withundiminished resolve. 

Honor, meanwhile, had leisure to wonder whether she had imagined thatnew note in his voice. If not, --and if he were to repeat the questionin a more definite form--how should she answer him?

In truth she could not tell. Sincere admiration is not always easy todistinguish from love of a certain order. But Paul's bearing throughthe remainder of the dance convinced her that she must have beenmistaken, and she dismissed the subject from her mind. 

Leaving her in charge of Desmond, Wyndham slipped on his greatcoat, and spent half an hour pacing to and fro, in the frosty darkness, spangled with keen stars. Here, forgetful of expectant partners, hetook counsel with his cigar and his own sadly sobered heart. More thanonce he asked himself why those months on the Frontier had been amongthe best in Honor Meredith's life. The fervour of her tone haunted himwith uncomfortable persistence; yet, had he put the question to her, it is doubtful whether she could have given him a definite answer, even if she would. 

But although the lights and music and laughter had lost their meaningfor him, the great ball of the year went forward merrily in regularalternations of sound and silence, of motion and quiescence, to itsappointed end. 

It was during one of the intervals, when eye and ear enjoyed a passingrespite from the whirling wheel of things, that Desmond, coming out ofthe cardroom--where he had been enjoying a rubber and acigarette--caught sight of a gleaming figure standing alone in thepillared entrance to the Hall, and hurried across the desertedballroom. His wife looked pathetically small and unprotected in thewide emptiness of the archway, and the corners of her mouth quiveredas though tears were not far off. 

"Oh, Theo, --I _am_ glad!" she said as he reached her side. "I wantedyou--long ago, but I couldn't find you anywhere in the crowd. "

"What's the trouble, little woman?" he asked. "Quite surprising to seeyou unappropriated. Any one been bothering you?"

"Yes--a man. One of the stewards introduced him----"

The ready fire flashed in his eyes. 

"Confound him! Where is he? What did he do?"

"Nothing--very much. Only--I didn't like it. Come and sit downsomewhere and I'll tell you. "

She slipped her hand under his arm, and pressed close to him as theysought out a seat between the rows of glass-fronted book-shelves inwhich the Lawrence Hall library is housed. 

"Here you are, " he said. "Sit down and tell me exactly what happened. "

She glanced nervously at his face, which had in it a touch ofsternness that recalled their painful interview three weeks ago. 

"I--I don't think he really knew what he was talking about, " shebegan, her eyes on the butterfly fan, which she opened and shutmechanically while speaking. "He began by saying that fancy balls werequite different to other ones; that the real fun of them was thatevery one could say and do just what they pleased, and nothingmattered at all. He said his own dress was specially convenient, because no one could expect a Pierrot to be responsible for hisactions. Then he--he said that by coming as a butterfly I had givenevery man in the room the right to--to catch me if he could. Wasn'tthat hateful?"

"Curse him!" muttered Desmond under his breath. "Well--was that all?"

She shook her head with a rueful smile. 

"I don't half like telling you, Theo; you look so stern. I'm afraidyou'll be very angry. "

"_Not_ with you, dear. Go on. "

"Well, I told him I didn't see it that way at all, and he said ofcourse not; butterflies never _did_ see that people had any right tocatch them; yet they got caught all the same. Then he took tight holdof my hands, and came so close to me that--I was frightened, and askedhim to take me back to the ballroom at once. He said it wasn't fair, that the whole twelve minutes belonged to him, and he wouldn't becheated out of any of it. Then when I was getting up to go away, he--he laughed, and put his arm round me, so that I couldn't move, though I tried to--I did, truly. "

At that her husband's arm went round her, and she yielded with a sighof satisfaction to its protective pressure. 

"The brute didn't dare to--kiss you, did he, Ladybird?"

"Oh, no--no. The music began, and some people came by, and he had tolet me go. Do men often behave like that at balls, Theo?"

"Well--no; not the right sort!" Desmond answered, a gleam of amusementin his eyes. "But there's always a good sprinkling of the wrong sortin a crowd of this kind, and the stewards ought to be more careful. "

"The trouble is that--I gave him two dances. The next one is his, andI _can't_ dance with him again. That's why I so badly wanted to findyou. Listen, they're tuning up now. Must I go and sit in the ladies'room till it's over?"

"Certainly not. Come out and dance it with me. "

"Can I? How lovely! I was afraid you were sure to be engaged. "

"Of course I am. But as you happen to need me, that doesn't count. "

She leaned forward suddenly, and gave him one of her quick, half-shykisses, that were still so much more like the kisses of a child thanof a woman grown. "It is nice to belong to a man like you, " shemurmured caressingly. "You really are a dear, Theo! And after I'vebeen so bad to you, too!"

"What's forgiven should be forgotten, Ladybird, " he answered, tightening the arm that held her. "So that's a closed subject betweenus, --you understand? Only remember, there must be _no more_ of thatsort of thing. Do you want the compact signed and sealed?" he added, smiling. 

"Yes--I do. " And he sealed it accordingly. 

Two bright tears glistened on her lashes, for she had the grace torealise that she was being blessed and trusted beyond her deserts. Asudden impulse assailed her to tell him everything--now, while hisforgiveness enfolded her and gave her a transitory courage. But habit, and dread of losing the surpassing sweetness of reconciliation sealedher lips; and her poor little impulse went to swell the sum ofunaccomplished things. 

He frowned at sight of her mute signals of distress. 

"No, no, little woman. That's forbidden also! Come along out; and ifthat cad attempts to interfere with us, I'll send him to the rightabout effectually, I promise you. "

"But who _is_ your real partner?" she asked, as they rose to go. 

"You are, --who else? My permanent partner!" he answered, smiling downupon her. "I haven't a notion who the other is. Let's stop under thislamp and see. "

He consulted his card, and his face clouded for a moment. 

"It's Honor! That's rough luck. But at least one can tell her thetruth, and feel sure she'll understand. There she is by that pillar, wondering what has come to me. Jove! How splendid she looks to-night!I wish the Major could set eyes on her. "

The girl's tall figure, in its ivory and gold draperies, showedstrikingly against a mass of evergreens, and the simple dignity of thedress she had herself designed emphasised the queenly element in herbeauty. 

"Did you think I had deserted you altogether?" Desmond asked, as theydrew near. 

"I knew you would come the first moment you could. "

"You have a large faith in your friends, Honor. "

"I have a very large faith--in you!" she answered simply. 

"That's good hearing. But I hardly deserve it at this minute. I havecome to ask if I may throw you over for Ladybird?" And in a few wordshe explained the reason of his strange request. 

One glance at Evelyn's face told Honor that the untoward incident haddispelled the last shadow of restraint between husband and wife; andthe loss of a dance with Theo seemed a small price to pay for so happya consummation. 

The valse was in full swing now, --a kaleidoscopic confusion of colour, shifting into fresh harmonies with every bar; four hundred peoplecircling ceaselessly over a surface as of polished steel. 

Desmond guided his wife along the edge of the crowd till they cameagain to the pillared entrance. Here, where it was possible to standback a little from the dancers, they were confronted by a thickset, heavy-faced man wearing the singularly inept-looking costume of aPierrot. Face and carriage proclaimed that he had enjoyed his dinnervery thoroughly before setting out for the ball; and Evelyn's smallshudder fired the fighting blood in Desmond's veins. It needed aneffort of will not to greet his unsuspecting opponent with a blowbetween the eyes. But instead, he stood his ground and awaiteddevelopments. 

The man bestowed upon Evelyn a bow of exaggerated politeness, whichitalicised his scant courtesy towards her partner. 

"There's some mistake here, " he said bluntly. "This is _my_ dance withMrs Desmond, and I've missed too much of it already. "

"Mrs Desmond happens to be my wife, " Theo made answer with ominousquietness. "I don't choose that she should be insulted by herpartners; and I am dancing this with her myself. "

The incisive tone, low as it was, penetrated the man's muddled brain. His blustering assurance collapsed visibly, increasing fourfold hisludicrous aspect. He staggered backward, muttering incoherent wordsthat might charitably be construed as apology, and passed on into thelibrary, making an ineffectual effort to combine an air of dignifiedindifference with the uncertain gait of a landsman in a heavy sea. 

Desmond stood looking after him as he went in mingled pity andcontempt; but Evelyn's eyes never left her husband's face. 

His smouldering anger, and the completeness of his power to protecther by a few decisive words, thrilled her with a new, inexplicableintensity, --an emotion that startled her a little, and in the samebreath lifted her to an unreasoning height of happiness. 

Unconsciously she pressed close against him as he put his arm roundher. 

"You're all safe now, my Ladybird, " he said with a low laugh. "Andhonour is satisfied, I suppose! The creature wasn't worth knockingdown, though I could hardly keep my fists off him at the start. "

And he swept her forthwith into the heart of the many-coloured crowd. 

The valse was more than half over now, and as the music slackened toits close some two hundred couples vanished into the surroundingdimness, each intent on their own few minutes of enjoyment. EvelynDesmond, flushed, silent, palpitating, remained standing at herhusband's side, till they were left practically alone under one of themany arches that surround the great hall. 

"That was much too short, wasn't it?" he said. "Now we must go andlook up Honor, and see that she is not left in the lurch. "

At that she raised her eyes, and the soft shining in them lent a quiteunusual beauty to her face. 

"Must we, Theo, --really? Honor's sure to be all right, and I'm sobadly wanting to sit out--with you. "

"Are you, really? That's a charming confession to hear from one'swife. You look different to-night, Ladybird. What's come to you?"

"I don't know, " she murmured truthfully; adding so low that he couldbarely catch the words, "Only--I don't seem ever to haveunderstood--till just now how much--I really care----"

"Why, --_Evelyn_!"

Sheer surprise checked further speech, and with a man's instinctivesense of reserve he looked hastily round to make sure that they werealone. 

She misread his silence, and slipped a hand under his arm. 

"You're not angry, are you--that I--didn't understand sooner?"

"Good heavens, no!"

"Then come--please come. Honor gave me the whole dance. Besides--look!--there she goes with Major Wyndham. She's always happywith him!"

Desmond smiled. "That's true enough. No need for us if Paul is in thefield. Come this way, Ladybird. I know the Lawrence Hall of old. "

They sought and found a sofa in a retired, shadowy corner. 

"That's ever so nice, " she said simply. "Sit down there. "

He obeyed, and there was a momentary silence between them. Then theemotion astir within her swept all before it. Turning suddenly, sheflung both arms round his neck and hid her face upon his shoulder, herbreath coming in short, dry sobs, like the breath of an overwroughtchild. 

Very tenderly, as one who touches that which he fears to bruise orbreak, he drew her close to him, his own pulses quickened by aremembrance of the words that gave the clue to her strange behaviour, and during those few minutes between dance and dance, Evelyn Desmondarrived at a truer knowledge of the man she had married, in thegirlish ignorance of mere fascination, than two years of life with himhad brought to her half-awakened heart. 

BOOK II. 

 "In the reproof of chance Lies the true proof of men. " --SHAKESPEARE. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

YOU WANT TO GO!

 "White hands cling to the tightened rein, Slipping the spur from the booted heel, Tenderest voices cry 'Turn again!' Red lips tarnish the scabbarded steel. High hopes faint on a warm hearth-stone; He travels the fastest who travels alone. " --KIPLING. 

For the first six weeks of the new year life flowed serenely enough inthe bungalow on the mound. 

Relieved of the greater part of her burden, and re-established in herhusband's heart, Evelyn Desmond blossomed like a flower under thequickening influences of spring. Light natures develop best insunshine: and so long as life asked no hard things of her, Evelyncould be admirably sweet-tempered and self-forgetful--even to theextent of curbing her weakness for superfluous hats and gloves andshoes. A genuine sacrifice, this last, if not on a very high plane. But the limits of such natures are set, and their feats of virtue orvice must be judged accordingly. 

To Honor, whose very real sympathy was infallibly tinged with humour, the bearing of this regenerate Evelyn suggested a spoilt child who, having been scolded and forgiven, is disposed to be heroically, ostentatiously good till next time; and her goodness at least waswhole-hearted while it lasted. She made a genuine effort to handle thereins of the household: waxed zealous over Theo's socks and shirts;and sang to his accompaniment in the evenings. Her zest for thetennis-courts waned. She joined Frank and Honor in their frequentrides to the polo-ground, and Kresney found himself unceremoniouslydiscarded like a programme after a dance. 

Wounded vanity did not improve his temper, and the ever-present Lindasuffered accordingly. For Kresney, though little given to the weaknessof generosity, never failed to share his grievances liberally withthose about him. 

"What is this that has come to little Mrs Desmond?" he demanded oneevening on a querulous note of injury. "Whenever I ask her to playtennis now she always manages to be engaged. I suppose, because theyhave won that confounded Punjab Cup, she thinks she must give herselfairs like the rest of them. But I tell you what, Linda, we have got tomake her understand that she is not going to get money out of us, andthen chuck us in the dirt like a pair of old gloves, --you see? Youmust tell her you are in a hole now, because of that three hundredrupees; that you have been forced to get cash from me to go on with, and to let me know about your little business with her; and you areafraid I may refer the matter to her husband. It would bring hiscursed pride down with a run if he knew that his wife had practicallyborrowed money from me, and he could say nothing against _us_ forhelping her. It is she who would suffer; and I am not keen to push herinto a hot corner if she can be made to behave decently enough to suitme. So just let her know that I will make no trouble about it so longas she is friendly, like she used to be. Then you can ask her to tea;and I bet you five rupees she accepts on the spot!"

 * * * * *

Meantime Evelyn Desmond went on her way, in ignorance of the forcesthat were converging to break up her newly-gotten peace of mind. Forthe time being her world was filled and bounded by her husband'spersonality. The renewal of his tenderness and his trust in hereclipsed all the minor troubles of life: and with the unthinkingoptimism of her type she decided that these would all come rightsomehow, some time, sooner or later. 

What Desmond himself thought did not transpire. Evelyn's happinessgave him real satisfaction; and if he were already beginning to beaware that his feeling for her left the innermost depths of his natureunstirred, he never acknowledged the fact. A certain refinement ofloyalty forbade him to discuss his wife, even with himself. Herineffectualness and the clinging quality of her love made anirresistible appeal to the vein of chivalry which ran, like a threadof gold, through the man's nature; and if he could not forget, hecould at least try not to remember, that her standard of uprightnessdiffered widely and radically from his own. 

When Kresney's tactics resulted in a partial revival of herfriendliness towards him, Desmond accepted the fact with the bestgrace he could muster. Since his promise to the man made definiteobjection impossible, he decided that the matter must be left to thedisintegration of time; and if Kresney could have known how thenecessity chafed Desmond's pride and fastidiousness of spirit, theknowledge would have added relish to his enjoyment of Evelyn'ssociety. 

Thus the passing of uneventful days brought them to the middle ofFebruary--to the end of the short, sharp Northern winter, and thefirst far-off whisper of the wrath to come; brought also to HonorMeredith a sudden perception that her year with the Desmonds was verynearly at an end. John's latest letter announced that he hoped to getback to the life and work he loved by the middle of April; and thegirl read that letter with such strangely mixed feelings that she wasat once puzzled and angered by her own seeming inconsistency. John hadalways stood unquestionably first in her life. It would be altogethergood to have him with her again--to be able to devote herself to himentirely as she had dreamed of doing for so many years. And yet. . . . There was no completing the broken sentence, which, for someunaccountable reason, ended in a sigh. 

Honor was sitting at the time in her favourite corner of thedrawing-room, on a low settee constructed out of an empty case, cunningly hid, and massed with cushions of dull red and gold. As herlips parted in that unjustifiable sigh she looked round at thefamiliar pictures and hangings; at Desmond's well-worn chair, and thetable beside it with his pipe-rack, a photo of his father, and half adozen favourite books; at the graceful outline of Evelyn's figurewhere she stood by the wide mantelshelf arranging roses in a silverbowl, her head tilted to one side, a shaft of sunlight from one of theslits of windows, fifteen feet up the wall, turning her soft fair hairto gold. 

From Evelyn's figure, Honor's glance travelled to the photograph ofDesmond on the piano, and lingered there with a softenedthoughtfulness of gaze. What deep roots she had struck down into thelives of these two since her first sight of that picture! A year agothe man had been a mere name to her; and now----

The clatter of hoofs, followed by Desmond's voice in the verandah, snapped the thread of her thought, and roused Evelyn from thecontemplation of her roses. 

"Theo _is_ back early!" she exclaimed: and on the words he entered theroom, elation in every line of him, an unusual light in his eyes. 

"What _has_ happened to make you look like that?" she asked. "Somebodyleft you a fortune?"

Desmond laughed, with a peculiar ring of enjoyment. 

"No fear! Fortunes don't grow hereabouts! But we've had stirring newsthis morning. A big party of Afridis has crossed the Border and fireda village, murdering and looting cattle and women on a very daringscale. The whole garrison is under orders for a punitive expedition. We shall be off in ten days, if not sooner. "

Evelyn's colour ebbed while he was speaking, and she made a quickmovement towards him. But Desmond taking her shoulders between hishands, held her at arm's length, and confronted her with steadfastlysmiling eyes. 

"No, no, Ladybird--you're going to be plucky and stand up to this likea soldier's wife, for my sake. The Frontier's been abnormally quietthese many months. It will do us all good to have a taste of real workfor a change. "

"Do you mean . . . Will there be much . . . Fighting?"

"Well--the Afridis don't take a blow sitting down. We have to burntheir crops, you see; blow up their towers; enforce heavy fines, andgenerally knock it into their heads that they can't defy the IndianGovernment with impunity. Yes; it means fighting--severe or otherwise, according to their pleasure. "

"Pleasure!--It sounds simply horrible; and you--I believe you're_glad_ to go!"

"Well, my dear, what else would you have? Not because I'm murderouslyinclined, " he added smiling. "Every soldier worth his salt is glad ofa chance to do the work he's paid for. But that's one of the things Ishall never teach you to understand!"

Evelyn turned hurriedly back to her roses. Her throat feltuncomfortably dry, and two tears had escaped in spite of herself. 

"How long will you be gone?" she asked, addressing her question to theflowers. 

"A month or six weeks. Not longer. "

"But won't any one be left to guard the station? In this horribleplace we women don't seem to count a bit. You all rush off after a lotof stupid Afridis. "

"Not quite all. An infantry regiment will come up from Pindi: and weleave Paul's squadron behind. Just like his luck to be out of it, poorold man. But six weeks will be gone in no time. This sort of thing ispart and parcel of our life up here. You're not going to fret aboutit, Ladybird--are you?"

He turned her face gently towards him. To his astonishment eagerentreaty shone through her tears, and she caught his hand between herown. 

"No, Theo, I needn't fret, because--if somebody has to stay--it canjust as easily be you. You're married and Major Wyndham isn't. "

Desmond stepped back a pace, incredulous anger in his eyes. "Evelyn!Are you crazy? It's not the habit of British officers to sneak behindtheir wives when they're wanted at the front. It comes hard on you:but it's the price a woman pays for marrying a soldier and there's noshirking it----"

For answer she clung to his hand, pressing it close against her heart. Instinctively she understood the power of her weakness, and exercisedit to the full. Perhaps, also, an undefined fear of Kresney gave hercourage to persist; and the least mention of the man's name at thatinstant might have averted many things. 

"Only this time, please, " she murmured, bringing the beseechingsoftness of her eyes and lips very close to his set face. "You'll besorry afterwards if you leave me alone--just now. "

"Why just now? Besides, you won't be alone. You will have Honor. "

"Yes. But I want you. It has all been so lovely since Christmas. Theo--darling, --I _can't_ let you go, and--and perhaps be killed bythose horrid Afridis. Every one knows how brave you are. They wouldnever think you shirked the fighting. And Major Wyndham would doanything you asked him. Will you--_will_ you?"

Desmond's mouth hardened to a dogged line, and he drew a little awayfrom her; because her entreaty and the disturbing nearness of her facemade resistance harder than he dared allow her to guess. 

"My dear little woman, you haven't the smallest notion what you areasking of me. I never bargained for throwing up active service on youraccount; and I'll not give the fellows a chance to insult you byflinging marriage in my teeth. "

"That means--you insist on going?"

"My dear--I can do nothing else. "

She threw his hand from her with a choking sob. 

"Very well, then, go--go! I know, now, that you don't really--care, inyour heart--whatever you may say. "

And turning again to the mantelpiece, she laid her head upon her arms. 

For a few moments Desmond stood regarding her, a great pain andtenderness in his eyes. 

"It is rather cruel of you to put it that way, Ladybird, " he saidgently. "Can't you see that this isn't a question--of caring, butsimply of doing my duty? Won't you try and help me, instead of makingthings harder for us both?"

He passed his hand caressingly over her hair, and a little shiver ofmisery went through her at this touch. 

"It's all very well to talk grandly about duty, " she answered in asmothered voice. "And it's no use pretending to love me--when youwon't do anything I ask. But--you _want_ to go. "

Desmond sighed, and instinctively glanced across at Honor for aconfirmation of his resolve not to let tenderness undermine his senseof right. But that which he saw banished all thought of his ownheartache. 

She sat leaning a little forward, her hands clasped tightly overMeredith's letter, her face white and strained, her eyes luminous ashe had never yet seen them. 

For the shock of his unexpected news had awakened her roughly, abruptly to a very terrible truth. Since his entrance into the roomshe had seen her phantom palace of friendship fall about her like ahouse of cards; had seen, rising from its ruins, that which her brainand will refused to recognise, but which every pulse in her bodyconfirmed beyond possibility of doubt. 

Desmond's eyes looking anxiously into hers, roused her to arealisation of her urgent need to be alone with her incrediblediscovery. Her lips lost their firmness; the hot colour surged intoher cheeks; and smoothing out John's letter with uncertain fingers, she rose to her feet. 

But in rising she swayed unsteadily; and in an instant Desmond wasbeside her. He had never before seen this girl's composure shaken, andit startled him. 

"Honor, what has upset you so?" he asked in a low tone. "Not bad newsof John?" For he had recognised the writing. 

She shook her head, fearing the sound of her own voice, and hisunfailing keenness of perception. 

"You must be ill, then. I was afraid you were going to faint just now. Come into the dining-room and have a glass of wine. "

She acquiesced in silence. It would be simplest to let him attributeher passing weakness to physical causes. And she went forward blindly, resolutely, with a proud lift of her chin, never looking at him once. 

He walked beside her, bewildered and distressed, refraining fromspeech till she should be more nearly mistress of herself, and lightlyholding her arm, because she was so evidently in need of support. Shetightened her lips and mastered an imperious impulse to free herselffrom his touch. His unspoken solicitude unnerved her; and a sigh ofpure relief escaped her when he set her down upon a chair, and wentover to the sideboard for some wine. 

She sipped it slowly, supporting her head, and at the same timeshielding her eyes from his troubled scrutiny. He sat beside her, onthe table's edge, and waited till the wineglass was half empty beforehe spoke. 

"Did you feel at all ill this morning? I'll go for Mackay at once tomake sure there's nothing wrong. "

"No--no. " There was a touch of impatience in her tone. "Please don'tbother. It is nothing. It will pass. "

"I didn't mean to vex you, " he answered humbly. "But you are not thesort of woman who goes white to the lips for nothing. Either you areill, or you are badly upset. You promised John to let me take hisplace while he was away, and if you are in any trouble ordifficulty, --don't shut me out. You have done immensely much for bothof us. Give me the chance to do a little for you. Remember, Honor, "his voice took a deeper note of feeling, "you are more to me than theMajor's sister or Ladybird's friend. You are mine, too. Won't you tellme what's wrong?"

At that she pulled herself together and faced him with a bravesemblance of a smile. 

"I am very proud to be your friend, Theo. But there are times when thetruest friendship is just to stand on one side and ask no questions. That is what I want you to do now. Please believe that if you couldhelp me, even a little, I would not shut you out. "

"I believe you--and I'll not say another word. You will go and liedown, perhaps, till tiffin time?"

"No. I think I will go to Ladybird. She badly needs comforting. Youbroke your news to us rather abruptly, you know. We are not hardenedyet, like Frank, to the boot-and-saddle life here. "

"I'm sorry. It was thoughtless of me. We are all so used to it. One'sapt to forget----"

He rose and took a few steps away from her; then, returning, stoodsquarely before her. She had risen also, partly to prove her ownstrength, and partly to put an end to the strain of being alone withhim. 

"Honor, " he asked, "was I hard with Ladybird? And am I an unpardonablebrute if I insist on holding out against her?"

"Indeed, no! You mustn't dream of doing anything else. "

She looked full at him now, forgetful of herself in concern for him. 

"I was half afraid--once, that you were going to give way. "

"Poor Ladybird! She little guessed how near I came to it. And maybethat's as well, after all. "

"Yes, Theo. It would be fatal to begin that way. I quite see how hardit is for her. But she must learn to understand. When it comes toactive service, we women must be put altogether on one side. If wecan't help, we are at least bound not to hinder. "

Desmond watched her while she spoke with undisguised admiration. 

"Would you say that with the same assurance, I wonder, if it wereJohn? Or if it happened to be--your own husband?"

A rush of colour flooded her face, but she had strength enough not toturn it aside. 

"Of course I would. "

"Then I sincerely hope you will marry one of us, Honor. Wives of thatquality are too rare to be wasted on civilians!"

This time she bent her head. 

"I should never dream of marrying any one--but a soldier, " sheanswered very low. "Now I must go back to my poor Evelyn and help herto see things more from your point of view. "

"How endlessly good to us you are, " he said with sudden fervour. "Iknow I can count on you to keep her up to the mark, and not let hermake herself too miserable while we are away. "

"Yes--yes. I am only so thankful to be here with her--this firsttime. "

He stood aside to let her pass; and she went out quickly, holding herhead higher than usual. 

He followed at a little distance, still perplexed and thoughtful, butrefraining from the least attempt to account for her very unusualbehaviour. What she did not choose to tell him he would not seek toknow. 

On the threshold of the drawing-room he paused. 

His wife still stood where he had left her, disconsolately fingeringher roses, her delicate face marred with weeping. Honor went to herstraightway; and putting both arms round her kissed her with apassionate tenderness, intensified by a no less passionateself-reproach. 

At the unnerving touch of sympathy Evelyn's grief broke out afresh. 

"Oh, Honor--Honor, comfort me!" she sobbed, unaware of her husband'spresence in the doorway. "You're the only one who really cares. And heis so--so pleased about it. That makes it worse than all!"

A spasm of pain crossed Desmond's face, and he turned sharply away. 

"Poor little soul!" he reflected as he went; "shall I ever be able tomake her understand?"

CHAPTER XVIII. 

LOVE THAT IS LIFE!

 "Love that is Life; Love that is Death, Love that is mine!" --GIPSY SONG. 

Not until night condemned her to solitude and thought did Honorfrankly confront the calamity that had come upon her with the force ofa blow, cutting her life in two, shattering her pride, her joy, herinherent hopefulness of heart. 

The insignificant fact that her life was broken did not set the worlda hair's breadth out of gear; and through the day she held her headhigh, looking and speaking as usual, because she still had faith andstrength and courage; and, having these, the saddest soul alive willnot be utterly cast down. 

She spent most of her time with Evelyn; and succeeded in so farreconciling her to Theo's decision that Evelyn slipped quietly intothe study, where he sat reading, and flinging her arms round himwhispered broken words of penitence into the lapel of his coat; aproceeding even more disintegrating to his resolution than herattitude of the morning. 

Honor rode out to the polo-ground with them later on in the day, returning with Paul Wyndham, who stayed to dinner, a habit that hadgrown upon him since the week at Lahore. She wondered a littleafterwards what he had talked of during the ride, and what she hadsaid in reply; but since he seemed satisfied, she could only hope thatshe had not betrayed herself by any incongruity of speech or manner. 

During the evening she talked and played with a vigour andcheerfulness which quite failed to deceive Desmond. But of this shewas unaware. The shock of the morning had stunned her brain. Sheherself and those about her were as dream-folk moving in a dream whileher soul sat apart, in some vague region of space, noting andapplauding her body's irreproachable behaviour. Only now and then, when she caught Theo's eyes resting on her face, the wholedream-fabric fell to pieces, and stabbed her spirit broad awake. 

Desmond himself could not altogether shut out anxious conjecture. Byan instinct he could hardly have explained, he spoke very little tothe girl, except to demand certain favourite pieces of music, most ofwhich, to his surprise, she laughingly refused to play. Only, inbidding her good-night, he held her hand a moment longer than usual, smiling straight into her eyes; and the strong enfolding pressure, farfrom unsteadying her, seemed rather to revive her flagging fortitude. For who shall estimate the virtue that goes out from the hand-clasp ofa brave man, to whose courage is added the strength of a stainlessmind?

 * * * * *

At last it was over. 

She had left the husband and wife together, happy in a reconciliationof her own making; had dismissed Parbutti, bolted the door behind her, and now stood like one dazed, alone with God and her grief, whichalready seemed old as the stars, --a thing preordained before thebeginning of time. 

She never thought of turning up the lamp; but remained standing verystraight and still, her hands clenched, all the pride of hermaidenhood up in arms against that which dominated her, by no will ofher own. 

She knew now, past question, --and the certainty crimsoned her face andneck, --that she had loved him unwittingly from the moment of meeting;possibly even from that earlier moment when she had unerringly pickedout his face from among many others. Herein lay the key to herinstinctive recoil from too rapid intimacy; the key to the peculiarquality of her intercourse with him, which had been from the first athing apart; as far removed from her friendship with Wyndham as is theserenity of the foothills from the life-giving breath of the heights. 

And now--now that she had been startled into knowledge, the wholetruth must be confronted, the better to be combated;--the truth thatshe loved him--with everything in her--with every thought, everyinstinct of soul and body. Nay, more, in the very teeth of her shameand self-abasement, she knew that she was glad and proud to have lovedhim, and no lesser man, even though the fair promise of her womanhoodwere doomed to go down unfulfilled into the grave. 

Not for a moment did she entertain the cheap consolatory thought thatshe would get over it; or would, in time, give some good man the huskof her heart in exchange for the first-fruits of his own. She held theobsolete opinion that marriage unconsecrated by love was a deadliersin than the one into which she had fallen unawares; and which, atleast, need not tarnish or sadden any life save her own. This lastbrought her sharply into collision with practical issues. In the faceof her discovery, dared she--ought she to remain even a week longerunder Theo's roof?

Her heart cried out that she must go; that every hour of intercoursewith him was fraught with peril. The fact that his lips were sealedavailed her nothing; for these two had long since passed that dangerpoint in platonic friendship when words are discarded for more directcommuning of soul with soul. Theo could read every look in her eyes, every tone of her voice, like an open book, and she knew it; thoughshe had never acknowledged it till now. All unconsciously he wouldwrest her secret from her by force of sympathetic insight; and she, who implicitly believed in God, who held suicide to be the mostdastardly sin a human being can commit, knew that she would take herown life without hesitation rather than stand proven disloyal toEvelyn, disgraced in the eyes of the man she loved. She did not thinkthis thing in detail. She merely knew it, with the instinctivecertainty of a vehement temperament that feels and knows apart fromall need of words. 

Her character had been moulded by men--simple, upright men; and shehad imbibed their hard-and-fast notions of honour, of right and wrong. She had power to turn her back upon her love, to live out her life asthough it were not, on two conditions only. No one must ever suspectthe truth. No one but herself must suffer because of it. Conditionshard to be fulfilled. 

"Oh, _Theo_!"

The cry broke from her unawares--a throb of the heart made vocal. Itroused her to reality, to the fact that she had been standing rigidlyin the middle of the room, --how long she knew not, --seeing nothing, hearing nothing, but the voice of her tormented soul. 

She went forward mechanically to the dressing-table, and leaning herhands upon it, looked long and searchingly into her own face. Herpallor, the ivory sheen of her dress, and the unnatural lustre of hereyes, gave her reflection a ghostly aspect in the dim light; and sheshuddered. Was this to be the end of her high hopes and ideals, --ofher resolute waiting and longing and praying for the very best thatlife and love could give? Was it actually she, --John's sister--herfather's daughter--who had succumbed to this undreamed-of wrong?

At thought of them, and of their great pride in her, all her strainedcomposure went to pieces. She sank into a chair and pressed both handsagainst her face. But no tears forced their way between her fingers. Agirl reared by four brothers is not apt to fall a-weeping upon everyprovocation; and Honor suffered the more keenly in consequence. 

Suddenly the darkness was irradiated by a vision of Theo, as he hadappeared on entering the drawing-room that morning, in the familiarundress uniform that seemed a part of himself; bringing with him, asalways, his own magnetic atmosphere of alertness and vigour, ofunquestioning certainty that life was very much worth living. Everydetail of his face sprang clearly into view, and for a moment Honorlet herself go. 

She deliberately held the vision, concentrating all her soul upon it, as on a face that one sees for the last time, and wills never toforget. It was an actual parting, and she felt it as such--a partingwith the man who could never be her friend again. 

Then, chafing against her momentary weakness, she pulled herselftogether, let her hands fall into her lap with a slow sigh that wasalmost a sob, and wondered, dully, whether sleep would come to herbefore morning. Certainly not until she had considered her positiondispassionately, --neither ignoring its terrible possibilities, norexaggerating her own sense of shame and disgrace, --and had settled, once for all, what honour and duty demanded of her in thecircumstances. 

One fact at least was clear. Her love for Theo Desmond was, in itself, no sin. It was a force outside the region of will, --imperious, irresistible. But it set her on the brink of a precipice, where onlyGod and the high compulsion of her soul could withhold her from aplunge into the abyss. 

"Mine own soul forbiddeth me: there, for each of us, is the eternalright and wrong. " For Honor there could be no thought, no question ofthe false step, or of the abyss; and sinking on her knees she pouredout her heart in a passionate prayer for forgiveness, for light andwisdom to choose the right path, and power to walk in it withoutfaltering to the end. 

When at last she rose, her lips and eyes had regained something oftheir wonted serenity. She knew now that her impulse to leave thehouse at once had been selfish and cowardly; that Evelyn must not bedeserted in a moment of bitter need; that these ten days must beendured for her sake--and for his. On his return, she could find areasonable excuse for spending a month elsewhere till John should cometo claim her. Never in all her life had she been called upon to makeso supreme an effort of self-mastery; and never had she felt socertain of the ultimate result. 

She turned up the lamp now, and looked her new life bravely in theface, strong in her reliance on a Strength beyond her own, --a Strengthon which she could make unlimited demands; which had never failed heryet, nor ever would to the end of time. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

IT'S NOT MAJOR WYNDHAM. 

 "I will endure; I will not strive to peep Behind the barrier of the days to come. " --OWEN MEREDITH. 

For a few hours Honor slept soundly. But so soon as her bodilyexhaustion was repaired, grief and stress of mind dragged her back toconsciousness. She woke long before dawn; woke reluctantly, for thefirst time in her life, with a dead weight upon heart and brain; alonging to turn her face to the wall and shut out the unconcernedserenity of the new day. 

But though hearts be at breaking-point, there is no shutting out theimpertinent details of life. And on this particular morning Honorfound herself plunged neck-deep in prose. Domestic trifles thrustthemselves aggressively to the fore. Parbutti assailed her afterbreakfast with a voluble diatribe against the dhobi's wife, whoseeldest son was going to and fro in the compound unashamed, wearing ashirt made from the Memsahib's newest jharrons. She did not feelcalled upon to add that her own under-jacket had begun life uponEvelyn Desmond's godown shelves. It was not a question of morals. Itwas the lack of a decent reserve in appropriating her due share of theSahib's possessions which incensed the good lady against the dhobi'swife. Such unreserve in respect of matters which should be hid mightrouse suspicion in other quarters; therefore it behoved Parbutti to bezealous in casting the first stone. 

Honor listened with weary inattention, promised investigation of thematter, and passed on to the godown--a closet of broad shelvesstocked with an incongruous assortment of household goods, andsmelling strongly of kerosine oil and bar soap. 

Here it was discovered that the oil had been disappearing withmiraculous celerity, and Amar Singh cast aspersions on the _kitmutgar_and his wife. A jealous feud subsisted between him and them; and asruler-in-chief of the Sahib's establishment, the bearer made it apoint of honour to let no one cheat Desmond save himself. He had agrievous complaint to lodge against a _sais_, who had been flagrantlytampering with the Desmonds' grain, adding a request that the MissSahib would of her merciful condescension impart the matter to theSahib. "For he sitteth much occupied, and his countenance is notfavourable this morning. "

Honor complied, with a half-smile at the irony of her own position, which, until to-day, she had accepted without after-thought, and whichof a sudden seemed unendurable. 

Desmond, much engrossed in regimental concerns, and anxious to get offto the Lines, was inclined to irritability and abruptness; and thedelinquent, who, with his charger ready saddled, awaited the Sahib'sdispleasure in the front verandah suffered accordingly. He bowed, trembling, to the ground, and let the storm sweep over his head;making no defence beyond a disarming reiteration of his ownworthlessness, and of his everlasting devotion to the Protector of thePoor. 

Turning back to the hall for his helmet, Desmond encountered Honor inthe doorway, and his wrath gave place to a smile of good fellowshipthat brought the blood into her cheeks. 

"Hope my volcanics didn't horrify you, " he said apologetically. "Itseems almost as cowardly to fly out at those poor chaps as to strike achild; but they have a genius for tripping one up at criticalmoments. "

He paused, and scanned her face with kindly anxiety. "You're all rightagain now? Not troubled any more--eh?"

"No. I'm perfectly well. Don't bother your head about me, please. Youhave so much more important things to think about. "

Her colour deepened; and she turned so hastily away that, in spite ofhis impatience to be gone, Desmond stood looking after her with atroubled crease between his brows. Then he swung round on his heel, vaulted into the saddle, and straightway forgot everything except theengrossing prospect of the campaign. 

But for all his preoccupation, he had not failed to note thewistfulness in Evelyn's dutifully smiling eyes. He was more thanusually tender with her on his return, and successfully banished thewistfulness by giving up his polo to take her for a ride. Honor stoodwatching them go, through tears which rose unbidden from the depth ofher lonely grief, her haunting sense of disloyalty to the two sheloved. She dashed them impatiently aside the instant they moistenedher lashes; and betook herself for an hour's rest and refreshment toMrs Jim Conolly, --"Mrs Jim" was her station name, --whose open-heartedlove and admiration would give her a much-needed sense of support. 

She entered her friend's drawing-room without formal announcement, tofind her seated on a low sofa, barricaded with piles of cotton frocksand pinafores, which had suffered maltreatment at the hands of thatarch-destroyer of clothes and temper--the Indian dhobi. 

"Don't get up, please, " the girl said quickly, as Mrs Conolly gatheredher work together with an exclamation of pleasure. "I've just come fora spell of peace and quietness, to sit at the feet of Gamaliel andlearn wisdom!"

She settled herself on the carpet, --a favourite attitude when theywere alone together, --and with a sigh of satisfaction leaned againsther friend's knee. The older woman put an arm round her shoulders, andpressed her close. Her mother's heart went out in very real devotionto this beautiful girl, who, strong and self-reliant as she was, turned to her so spontaneously for sympathy, counsel, and love. 

"Arrogant child!" she rebuked her, smiling. "Remember who it was thatsat at the feet of Gamaliel! But what particular kind of wisdom areyou wanting from me to-day?"

"No particular kind. I'm only liking to have you near me. One is sosure of your faith in the ultimate best, that there is encouragementin the touch of your hand. "

She took it between both her own, and rested her cheek against theother's arm, hiding her face from view. 

Mrs Jim smiled, not ill pleased. She was one of those rare optimistswho, having frankly confronted the evil and sorrow, the ironies andinconsistencies of life, can still affirm and believe that "God's inhis Heaven; all's right with the world. " But an unusual note in thegirl's voice perplexed her. 

"Are you in special need of encouragement just now, dear?" she asked. "Is that big baby of yours making you anxious on account of thisexpedition?"

"No--oh no! She is going to behave beautifully. The shock upset her atfirst, and she wanted Theo to stay behind. It was hard for him; but heheld out; and I think I have helped her to see that he was right. Hehas taken her for a ride this afternoon and she is very happy. "

"She has a great deal to thank you for, Honor, " the elder woman saidgravely. "I felt from the first that you were in rather a difficultposition between those two, and you have filled it admirably. I havesaid very little to you about it, so far; but I have watched you andthought of you unceasingly; and I believe Major Meredith would beprouder of you than ever if he could realise that you have turned yourtime of waiting to such good account. "

Honor's cheek still rested against Mrs Conolly's arm, and the warmththat fired it penetrated the thin muslin of her blouse. She wondered alittle, but said nothing; and after a short pause Honor spoke in a lowvoice and with an attempt at lightness which was not a conspicuoussuccess. 

"You think too well of me, so does John. I have done little enough. Only, I care very much for--them both, and I want them to behappy--that's all. "

"There are always two ways of stating a fact, " the other answered, smiling. "And--do you know, Honor, _I_ care very much for you--if youwere my own child, I could hardly care more--and, frankly, I want tosee _you_ happy in the same way. " She laid her free hand over the twothat held her own. "It would be a sin for a woman like you not tomarry. I take it for granted you have had chances enough, and I havesometimes wondered----"

The girl lifted her head and sat upright. She had come here to escapeher trouble, and it confronted her at every turn. 

"Please--please don't begin wondering about that, " she saiddecisively, "or I shall have to get up and go away; and I don't wantto do that. "

"No, no! my child, of course not. We will talk of other things. "

But the shrewd woman said within herself: "There _is_ some one afterall, " adding a heartfelt hope that it might be Major Wyndham. Thus hernext remark was more relevant to the forbidden subject than Honor waslikely to guess. 

"I hear Major Wyndham's squadron remains behind. You are glad, Isuppose? You seem to be good friends. "

"Yes; it will be a great comfort to have him when one will bemissing--all the rest. There are very few men in the world like MajorWyndham; don't you think so? He has the rare secret of being in it, yet not of it. I sometimes wonder whether anything could really upsetthat self-contained tranquillity of his, which makes him such arestful companion. "

Here was high praise, and Mrs Jim echoed it heartily; yet in spite ofit, perhaps because of it, she was far from content. "It is not MajorWyndham, " she decided, regretfully. "But then, --who else is it likelyto be?"

At this moment children's voices sounded in the garden and Honorsprang impulsively to her feet. "Oh, there are Jimmy and Violet!" shecried. "Let me go and be foolish with them for a little and give themtheir tea. We can play at wisdom again afterwards--you and I. "

With that she hurried out into the garden; and in surrendering herselfto the superbly unconscious egotism of childhood, found passingrespite from the torment of her own thoughts. But it was some timebefore Mrs Conolly returned to her interrupted work. 

Paul Wyndham dined again at the blue bungalow that night; and it soonbecame evident to Honor that something had succeeded in upsetting theschooled serenity which was the keynote of the man's character. Desmond kept the conversation going with unflagging spirit, obviouslyfor his friend's benefit; but he never once mentioned the campaign;and Honor began to understand that Paul rebelled, with quite unusualvehemence, against an order which sent his friend on active servicewithout him. Then it occurred to her that he must have been unlikehimself the night before, and that she, in her blind self-absorption, had noticed nothing. Remorse pricked her heart and gave additionalwarmth to her manner, --a fact which he was quick to perceive, and tomisinterpret. 

The men sat a long while over their cigars, and thereafter went intothe study at Paul's request. 

Honor had been right in her guess. The fiat of separation, coming at atime of active service, had roused him as he was rarely roused; hadproved to him, if proof were needed, that in spite of the strong love, which had opened new vistas of thought and emotion for him during thepast year, his feeling for Desmond was, and always would be, themaster-force of his life. That he should be condemned to play thewoman's part and sit with idle hands while his friend risked life andlimb in the wild mountain country across the Border, seemed for themoment more than he could accept in silence. 

He was obliged to own grudgingly that the Colonel was justified in hisdecision, --that as Second in Command he was the right man to remain incharge of the station. But the acknowledgment did not make thenecessity one whit less detestable in his eyes; and to-night the twomen's positions were reversed. It was Paul who moved to and fro withlong restless strides; while Theo, enveloped in a cloud of blue smoke, sat watching him in profound sympathy and understanding, makingoccasional attempts at consolation, with small result. 

 * * * * *

During the next ten days Honor Meredith discovered how much may beachieved and endured with the help of use and wont; discovered alsothat habit is the rock on which man's soul shall be wrecked oranchored in his evil day. 

She forced herself to speak of Theo more often than she had donehitherto; for she now understood the reason of her instinctivereserve where he was concerned; and the mere effort of breakingthrough it was a help. She succeeded in talking to him also, if withless frankness, still with something of her old simplicity and ease;and in playing his favourite preludes and sonatas, even though theystirred unsounded depths of emotion, and made the burden laid upon hershoulders seem too heavy to be borne. 

One habit alone seriously hindered her. Her spirit of candour--whichwas less a habit than an elemental essence--chafed against the barrierbetween her and those she loved. For she now found herself constrainedto avoid the too discerning eyes of Paul and Mrs Conolly, and, aboveall, of Theo himself. Men and women whose spirit hibernates more orless permanently in its temple of flesh have small knowledge of thejoy of such wordless intercourse; such flashes of direct speechbetween soul and soul; but Honor felt the lack of it keenly. Sheexperienced, for the first time in her life, that loneliness of heartwhich is an integral part of all great sorrow. 

But when things are at their worst we must needs eat and sleep, andfind some degree of satisfaction in both. Honor was young, practical, healthy, and her days were too well filled to allow of time forbrooding; nor had she the smallest leaning toward that unprofitableoccupation. She sought and found refuge from her clamorous Ego, --nevermore clamorous than at the first awakening of love, --in concentratingthought and purpose upon Evelyn; in bracing her to meet this firstreal demand upon her courage in a manner befitting Theo Desmond'swife. 

And she reaped her measure of reward. Evelyn bore herself bravely onthe whole. Theo's manifest approbation acted as a subconscious pillarof strength. But on the last day of all, when the strain of standingmorally on tiptoe was already producing its inevitable effect, anunlooked-for shock brought her back to earth with the rush of awounded bird. 

The troops were to march at dawn; and in the evening it transpiredthat Theo intended to dine at Mess, returning, in all probability, just in time to change and ride down to the Lines. The programme wasso entirely a matter of course on the eve of an expedition, and hissquadron had absorbed so much of his attention, that he had forgottento speak of the matter earlier; and the discovery was the last touchneeded to upset Evelyn's unstable equilibrium. Her collapse was themore complete by reason of the strain that had gone before. 

At the first she entreated him to give up the dinner and to spend hislast evening with her; and upon his gentle but definite answer thatsuch a departure from precedent was hardly possible, she fell tosobbing with the passionate unrestraint of a child. In vain Desmondtried to reason with her, to assure her that these big nights on theeve of active service were a time-honoured custom; and that allmarried officers attended them as a matter of course. 

"I would willingly stay at home to please you, Ladybird, " he added, "but the fellows would probably come round and carry me off by mainforce. It would all be done in the way of a joke, of course; but can'tyou see that any lack of regimental spirit on my part is a reflectionon you, which I won't have at any price?"

No, she could see nothing, poor distracted child, except that he wasrewarding her cruelly ill for the genuine effort at control she hadmade for his sake; and having once lost hold upon herself, all thepent-up fears and rebellion, at loss of him, found vent in asemi-coherent outbreak of reproaches and tears, till Desmond finallylost his patience, and went off to change for Mess in a mood of mindill-tuned to the boisterous night ahead of him. 

"Big nights, " an immemorial feature of army life, are a speciallymarked feature of the Frontier, where the constant recurrence ofBorder warfare, and the hardness of existence generally, produce morefrequent outbursts of the schoolboy spirit that characterises theBritish soldier of all ranks; that carries him unafraid and undismayedthrough heart-breaking campaigns; keeps him cheerful and uncomplainingin the face of flagrant mismanagement, fell-climates, disaster, anddefeat. Big nights, sixty years ago, left a goodly number of men, either under the table or in a condition only a few degrees lessundignified. But, in spite of the outcry against modern degeneration, these things are not so to-day; and the big nights of the FrontierForce, on the eve of active service, are singularly free from this, the least admirable part of the programme. 

The week before departure was necessarily a week of hard work, culminating in the task of getting all details into perfect marchingorder, and setting every item in readiness for the start at dawn. Thisdone, the British predilection for "letting off steam" resulted in anight of uproarious hilarity, incomprehensible to those ignorant ofthe conditions which gave it birth, and unable to realise its toniceffect on men who are setting out to face danger, hardship, andpossibly a violent death. 

Wild games and contests were the order of the evening, --the wilder themore acceptable. Cock-fighting, mock-polo matches, or gymkhanas, --onsuch occasions nothing comes amiss in the way of riotous foolishnesspure and simple. The senior officer forgets his seniority; the mostdignified lets fall the cloak of dignity for a few exhilarating hours. 

Colonel Buchanan himself entered with zest into the maddestinnovations which Desmond or Olliver could devise; and those who knewPaul Wyndham, in his normal habit as he lived, would scarce haverecognised him masquerading as Desmond's polo pony, in ainter-regimental match played with billiard balls, brother officersdoing duty for mounts and cues for polo-sticks. It was all excellentfooling; and the bar of grey in the east came far too soon. 

Close on five o'clock Desmond re-entered the bungalow; his scarletkummerbund disordered; his white mess-jacket in a hundred creases; yetalert and ready in every fibre for the day's march that lay beforehim. 

The grey twilight of dawn was already creeping in through theskylights and long glass doors, as he passed through the drawing-roominto his study. 

Here he came to a standstill with a low exclamation of surprise. 

On his cane deck-lounge Evelyn lay fast asleep, her face so turnedupon the cushion that its delicate profile showed clear as a cameoagainst a background of dull blue. Her white dinner dress gleamedghostly in the dusk of morning. One bronze slipper had fallen off;and one bare arm hung limply over the chair's edge, the fingers curledsoftly upwards. A slender chain bangle, with a turquoise pendant, hadalmost slipped over her hand. 

Desmond drew nearer with softened tread, and stood looking down uponher, a world of tenderness in his eyes;--tenderness touched with thereverence a finely tempered man is apt to feel in the presence of achild or woman asleep. For by some mysterious process sleep sanctifiesa face; perhaps because it is half brother to death. 

Evelyn's face was white as her dress, save for the coral tint of herlips. Their downward droop, the red line along her eyelids, and themoist handkerchief clutched in her right hand, were moreheart-stirring than tears. 

He knelt down beside her and lightly caressed her hair. 

"Ladybird, " he said softly, "time to wake up. "

His touch brought her back to life with an indrawn breath like a sob;and at sight of him her arms went round his neck. 

"Theo, darling, " she whispered, drawing his head down close to hers. "I--was dreaming--that you were gone. I suppose you are going verysoon now?"

"Yes; in about an hour. "

She held him closer. 

"I was bad and selfish to you last night, Theo. I didn't mean to be;but--I was. Honor made me understand. "

"Bless her brave heart!" he said fervently. "She comes of the beststock I know. By the way, I am sure she never told you to spend thenight here. "

"No. She thought I had gone to bed. But I was too unhappy to troubleabout that--and----"

"You thought I might turn up before morning, --wasn't that it?"

"Y--yes. " She flushed softly on the confession. 

"Poor dear little soul!"

He drew her to her feet, slipped on the fallen shoe, and put his armround her. "Come along to the dressing-room and help me to get into mykhaki. "

She walked beside him in so strange a confusion of happiness andmisery that it was impossible to say where one ended and the otherbegan. In the semi-darkness she tripped and stumbled on the threshold, and he caught her close to him, holding her thus for a long moment. Then he began to dress. 

At this point the long lean form of Amar Singh appeared in thedoorway. But at sight of the Memsahib, arrayed for dinner, he departedas noiselessly as he had come; not without a lurking sense of injury, since it was clearly his privilege to do those last offices for hisSahib of twelve years' standing. 

Evelyn, anxious to show that she could be useful on occasion, followedTheo to and fro like a shadow; handed him the wrong thing at the wrongmoment with pathetic insistence; and hindered his progress by a hostof irrelevant questions. But some women can hinder more engaginglythan others can help; and in any case Theo Desmond was in no humour tolose patience with his wife that morning. 

Once her attention was caught and held by Desmond's sword andrevolver, laid ready on a small table. She regarded them with a kindof fearful fascination. They were no longer mere ornaments of hisuniform, but actual death-dealers, going forth to do murderous work. The short blue muzzle of the revolver had a sinister look, and a pointof light at the tip winked like a mocking eye. 

"Theo, " she said suddenly in an awe-struck undertone, "do you know whatI was dreaming when you woke me? I dreamt that you were fighting withAfridis, --ever so many of them, --and you were all alone. I thoughtthey were going to--kill you every minute. They were running afteryou----"

Here Desmond dispelled the tragic vision with a shout of laughter. 

"They'll never get the chance to do _that_, Ladybird, so long as Ihave the use of my bare hands, let alone my sword!"

"But, Theo, just think, if you were all alone, and you were bound toget killed if you stayed, and there was me at home praying to get youback safe; wouldn't you be allowed to run away--even then?"

Desmond smiled; but he did not answer at once. The ludicroussuggestion, with its unconscious touch of pathos, hurt him more thanhe cared to acknowledge. 

"It isn't a case of being allowed, " he said. "I should never be leftquite alone like that; and anyway, they don't lay down a code ofmorals for us in the Queen's Regulations. It is understood that aBritish officer will play the man, even in desperate straits. "

She knitted her brows wistfully. "Yes, of course. Only--it seemsrather hard on--the wives and mothers. "

"You never said a truer word, little woman. That's why they need tohave such good grit in them, --don't you see?"

"Yes--I see. But mayn't you just get out of the way of a bullet if youhappen to see it coming?"

Desmond shook his head. 

"One generally happens to feel it before one gets a chance of seeingit, " he said. "But now, let's have done with nonsense. Buckle on mysword and we'll go to breakfast. The whole house is astir. "

She set the leathern belt round his waist, and tried to fasten it; buther fingers trembled in spite of herself, and a mist blinded her eyes. He took the heavy strap from her very gently, and fastened it himself. 

"You won't change and ride out a little way with us as the others meanto?" he asked. 

"N--no; I couldn't. I don't want to make you ashamed of me, Theo. "

For answer he held out his arms; and there was a long silence in thedimly lighted room. 

Then he led her to the door of their room, and himself went out to thebreakfast-table with a brisk elasticity of tread. He would not havebeen the man he was, if even the pang of parting could altogetherquench his ardour to be gone. 

In the dining-room he found Honor ready equipped for the start. Shelooked paler than usual, and there were blue shadows under her eyes;but she answered his greeting cheerfully enough, and busied herselfwith pouring out his tea. 

"Ladybird is changing into a morning gown, " he explained. "She neverwent to bed last night poor child!"

"Oh, I wish I had known that! I did my best to comfort her. "

"So she told me: and you succeeded. You generally do. "

He glanced at her thoughtfully, a shade of anxiety in his eyes. "You're not looking as fit yourself as you did a fortnight ago, " hesaid. 

"Don't talk nonsense, " she answered with a touch of impatience. 

"Well, I hope it may be nonsense. But I feel responsible for you. Takegood care of yourself, please, while I am away; and--take care of myLadybird as well. . . . Hullo, there's Paul!"

Wyndham entered as he spoke, wearing the undress uniform of stationlife: and Honor had seldom been so glad to see him as at that moment. 

The two men stood facing one another for quite a long time. Then theysmiled, and sat down to breakfast. Both knew that in that long lookthey had said all that need ever be said between them and it sufficed. 

Evelyn came in a few minutes later, pale and subdued, but notuncheerful. Her real sorrow, and no less real determination to controlit, gave a rare touch of dignity to the grace and simplicity that werehers by nature;--a fact which her husband was quick to perceive andadmire. Both men, by a natural instinct, were a trifle more attentiveto her than usual, without the least hint of intrusion upon theprivacy of her grief; and it is in just such acts of unobtrusivechivalry that Englishmen, of the best type, stand unrivalledthroughout the world. 

The meal over, Evelyn accompanied them into the verandah, and stoodsmiling and waving her hand to them as they rode away, with acomposure born of a stunned sense of the unreality of it all. Theo wasjust going down to the Lines, and he would be back to tiffin as amatter of course. Nevertheless, half an hour later the rims of hereyes were again reddened with weeping: and donning a sun-hat, shehurried out to a point where she could watch the little force moveacross the space of open country between the cantonment and thebastioned fort that stands at the entrance to the hills. 

By the time Evelyn reached her coign of vantage, the cavalcade wasalready nearing the prescribed mile where the final parting would takeplace, to the strains of "Auld Lang Syne"; a piece of gratuitoustorment, honoured by custom, which many would have willingly foregone. 

The slowly retreating mass, half enveloped in dust, showed a fewshades darker than the desert itself. A patch of vermilion indicatedthe Pioneer band, now blaring forth, with placid unconcern, "The GirlI Left Behind Me!" Lesser specks denoted officers, riding out, likethe rest of the station, to speed the parting troops. 

The cavalry riding in the van were a mere moving dust-cloud, followedby artillery, infantry, ambulance doolies, borne by half-naked Kahars;while a jumble of men and animals, camp-followers and transport, formed, as it were, a disorderly tail to the more compact body. Camels, groaning under tent-poles and heavy baggage, shuffled andswayed on the outskirts, with leisurely contempt; grass-cutters bobbedcheerfully along on ponies of no birth or breeding, that appearedoddly misshapen under vast loads of grass: and at the last cameminiature transport carts, closely followed by the rear-guard, a mixedbody of all arms. 

While Evelyn still watched, the halt was called, and the disturbingstrains of parting reached her where she stood. Hill, plain, andnearer objects lost their crispness of outline; and she went back tothe silent house awaiting her, --the lively strains of the return marchalready sounding in her ears. 

As she stood still for a moment, fighting against her emotion, OwenKresney rode past. She barely acknowledged his greeting; and he hadthe tact to pass on without speech. For the man saw plainly that thecoveted opportunity for striking a blow at Desmond, behind his back, was very near at hand; and he could afford to bide his time. 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE DEVIL'S PECULIARITY?

 "This is the devil's peculiarity, he attacks us through our softest places. " --SUDERMANN. 

After the departure of the troops, life settled down gradually intoits normal groove. 

Frank Olliver had moved into the blue bungalow, at Desmond's request, an arrangement more satisfying to Honor than to his wife; and thePioneer Regiment from Pindi had added a couple of ladies to thestation. These were made welcome with the prompt friendliness which isIndia's distinctive charm; and the bachelors, in due course, made thecircuit of Kohat's handful of bungalows. The station was a few degreesless cheerful, owing to the absence of its own particular men; but inIndia spirits must be kept up at all costs, if only as an antidote tothe moral microbes of the land; and the usual small sociabilitiesflourished accordingly. 

Evelyn took part in these at first with a chastened air. Not that sheassumed what she did not feel; but that her grief, when it reached aless acute stage, gave her a soothing sense of importance; a kind ofdismal distinction, such as a child feels in the possession of a badlycut finger or a loose tooth. The wind bloweth where it listeth; andsuch thistledown natures are entirely at its mercy. They cannot takedeep root, even where they would. For them the near triumphs over thefar. Like Esau, they will sell their birthright cheerfully for a messof pottage; and they are the raw material of half the tragedies in theworld. 

Thus, with the passing of uneventful days, Evelyn began to find itrather uninteresting to be quietly and comfortably unhappy; and theaspect of subdued plaintiveness which she half consciously adoptedwas, in truth, singularly becoming. She was one of those favouredwomen who have the good fortune to do most things becomingly. Her verytears became her, as dewdrops do a rose. 

Frank commented on the fact to Honor, in characteristic fashion. 

"Sure, 'tis a thousand pities we can't all of us look so pretty whenwe put on a melancholy face! It makes me look such a scarecrow meself, that I'm bound to keep on smiling, out o' sheer vanity, even if meheart's in two!"

"That's one way of putting it, " Honor answered, with a very soft lightin her eyes. She had begun to understand lately that this brave womanwas by no means so inured to the hardship and danger of the men sheloved as she would fain have them and the world believe: and the twodrew very near to one another in these weeks of eager looking for newsfrom the hills. 

It is not to be supposed that Kresney failed to observe the gradualchange in Evelyn's bearing. The man displayed remarkable tact andskill in detecting the psychological moment for advance. He contentedhimself at first with conversations in the Club Gardens and an air ofdeferential sympathy, which was in itself a subtle form of flattery. But on a certain afternoon of regimental sports, when Evelyn appeared, radiant and smiling, in one of her most irresistible Simla frocks, with an obviously appreciative Pioneer subaltern in attendance, Kresney perceived that the time to assert himself had arrived. 

After a short but decisive engagement, he routed that indignantsubaltern; and with a quiet assurance which by no means displeasedher, took and kept possession of Mrs Desmond for the remainder of theafternoon. 

That evening he enjoyed his after-dinner cigar as he had not enjoyedit for many weeks. Mrs Desmond was obviously tired of her prettypathetic pose; and he intended to avail himself to the utmost of herrebound towards lightheartedness. He flattered himself that he readher like an open book; that she would be as wax in his hands if hechose to push his advantage. But for all his acuteness, he failed todetect the one good grain hid in a bushel of chaff; or to perceivethat it was not indifference, but the very burden of her anxiety, thatdrove Evelyn to seek distraction in the form of any amusement lyingnear to her hand. 

Letters from the Samana were few and brief. The last ones had broughtnews that the expedition seemed likely to prove a more serious affairthan had been anticipated. Unknown to Honor, Evelyn cried herself tosleep that night, and awoke to the decision that she would not be sofoolishly unhappy any more. She would shut her eyes to the hauntinghorrors, and forget. Theo had forbidden her to make herself toomiserable. Why should she not obey him? And she proceeded to do so inher own equivocal fashion. 

After the first effort it was fatally easy to slip back into the oldhabit of accepting Kresney's companionship, and his frequentinvitations to the house;--fatally easy to slip even a few degreesfarther without the smallest suspicion of his hand on the reins. Shetook to riding with him--sometimes in the early mornings, sometimes inthe evenings; and these leisurely rides--for Evelyn was nohorsewoman--suited Kresney's taste infinitely better than tennis. Bycautious degrees they increased in frequency and duration; till itbecame evident to the least observant that little Mrs Desmond wasconsoling herself to good purpose. 

Honor watched the new trend of events with suppressed wrath anddisgust. That a woman who had won the love of Theo Desmond shoulddescend, even for passing amusement, upon such a travesty of manhood, roused in her a bitterness of rebellion which she had no right tofeel; but which, being only human, she could not altogether banishfrom her heart. Nor were matters made easier by Frank Olliver'speriodical outbursts on the subject. The hot-headed Irishwoman had alarge share of the unreasoning prejudice of her race. She hated as sheloved, wholesale, and without reason. She could make no shadow ofexcuse for Evelyn Desmond; and was only restrained from speaking outher mind by a wholesome fear of her own temper, and a desire to avoida serious breach with Theo Desmond's wife. But with Honor it wasotherwise. Honor, she maintained, had a right to speak, and no rightto be silent; and goaded thus, the girl did at length make a tentativeeffort at remonstrance. 

But upon her first words Evelyn flushed hotly. 

"For goodness' sake, Honor, don't start interfering again!" she said, in a tone which effectually quenched further discussion. 

Thus, without definite intention, they drifted a little apart. Honor, haunted by a sense of having failed Theo at a time of need, found whatconsolation she might in her growing intimacy with Paul Wyndham; whileEvelyn went on her way unchallenged, blind to every consideration butthe need of escape from the haunting dread that she would never seeher husband again. The dissonance between her feelings and her actionstroubled her no whit. Her notions of loyalty were peculiar andinconsistent, like herself; and it is probable that she never gave athought to Kresney's interpretation of her conduct, or to thedangerous nature of the game she was playing. 

The man himself was well content, and increasingly self-satisfied. Hecould be an intelligent and mildly amusing companion, when it servedhis turn; and he was beginning to lose sight of Desmond in keenenjoyment of the oldest pastime in the world. They fell intooccasional spells of silence now as they rode--silence such asfamiliarity breeds, and which is not without a degree of danger at acertain stage of intimacy between a man and a woman. 

They had been riding thus, for some time, on an afternoon of earlyMarch. Their horses' heads had been turned homeward; for the sun wasnear to setting, and on the Frontier it is unsafe to be out afterdusk. Evelyn's reins lay loose upon the grey mare's neck and her longlashes shadowed her cheek. She seemed to have forgotten hercompanion's presence. Kresney's eyes rested speculatively on herfinely chiselled profile. He found her, on close acquaintance, morecharming than he had expected. She possessed an elusiveness thatcaptivates more surely than beauty. A man could never feel quitecertain of her. She had not been in a very "coming-on disposition"that afternoon. His interest was piqued in consequence, and he was inthe mood to dare a good deal. 

He would have given much to know what she was thinking of; and theknowledge would have administered a wholesome shock to his vanity. Hedecided to surprise her with the question, and read the answer in hertoo expressive face. 

"What _is_ the absorbing subject?" he demanded suddenly. His tone wasa sufficient index of his progress during the past fortnight. 

She flushed and laughed softly, without looking up; and he drew hisown conclusions. 

"I don't tell my thoughts! But I'm sorry if I was rude. I wasthinking, for one thing, " she added lightly and mendaciously, "that Iwish it was nearer time to go up to the Hills. "

"I don't wonder at that. You're wasted in a place like Kohat. "

"That's rubbish!" she rebuked him. But her pleasure in the words wasself-evident. 

"And that's modesty!" he capped her promptly, enjoying the deepeningcarnation of the cheek turned towards him. "Will it be Murree againthis year?"

"Yes; I suppose so. " She spoke without enthusiasm. 

"Wouldn't you prefer Simla?"

"Well, naturally--a thousand times. "

"Then why not go there? I would come up too, like a shot. I can get acouple of months this year, and we'd have a ripping time of it. Shallwe call it settled--eh?"

She sighed and shook her head. 

"It's too expensive. Besides, there seems to be something wrong withSimla. My husband doesn't like it much; nor does Honor. "

The implication in Kresney's laugh was lost upon Evelyn Desmond. 

"Oh, well, of course Simla isn't much of a place for husbands, " heexplained loftily, "or for girls. It's the bachelors who have a goodtime there, --_and_ the married women. "

"Is it? How odd! I should think anybody who cared about dancing andacting, and all that sort of thing, would be bound to have a lovelytime in Simla. "

She looked him so simply and straightly in the face that he feltunaccountably ashamed of his questionable remark, and the laugh thathad preceded it--a sensation to which he was little accustomed. 

"Yes, yes; daresay you're right, " he agreed airily. "But if you're sokeen about the place, why not insist upon going? Wives don't troubleovermuch about obedience nowadays; most of them seem to do whateverthey please. "

"Do they? Well, then, I suppose it pleases me to go where my husbandlikes best. "

"Very dutiful, indeed!" A shadow of a sneer lurked beneath hisbantering tone, and she reddened again. 

"It's not dutiful at all. It's simply because----" She broke offshort. "Oh, I think you're horrid this afternoon. I expect people tomake themselves pleasant when I let them come out with me. "

"Well, I'm sure I do my best. But one can never tell where to haveyou. Goodness knows I've shown you plainly that I'm ready to be yourfriend--to any extent; and you've seemed to accept it readilyenough----"

"Well, of course. I like men to like me. I always did----"

"_Men?_"

"Yes, men, " she nodded, smiling. "I don't trouble much aboutwomen--except Honor; and _she's_ worth all the men in creation puttogether. "

"Desmond included?" Again the covert sneer lurked in his tone, and shedrew herself up with a pretty air of dignity. 

"That's not any concern of yours. "

"But I tell you it is!" He pressed closer. "More than you've chosen torealise so far. D'you suppose you can go on indefinitely blowing hotand cold with a man; snubbing him one minute and drawing him on thenext?"

"Oh dear! Oh dear! I never bother to suppose things! Haven't I saidthat if you want me to be nice, you mustn't plague me with stupidquestions? At any rate, you're seeing a lot of me now. And you'reriding a lot with me now--isn't that enough?"

"No. It's not enough, Mrs Desmond--Evelyn----"

"Oh, hush--hush! You mustn't say that!" she murmured ineffectually;but he paid no heed. 

"You find this sort of thing pleasant enough while Desmond's away; but_will_ you keep it up when he comes back? Tell me that----" He leanedcloser; but she turned her head away, avoiding his gaze. 

"Oh, I don't know. How can I possibly tell?" she answered, halfplaintively, half petulantly. "Why _are_ men so tiresome? They neverseem able to enjoy things peaceably without making tragedies andgetting too much in earnest----"

"But how if I am in earnest--in desperate earnest?"

He spoke with sudden vehemence. Something in his tone startled herinto a recollection of the incident at Lahore. And there was no Theoat hand to protect her now. 

Forgetful of the loosened rein, and of her insecure hold on thestirrup, she struck the mare more sharply than she knew. Theastonished animal bounded forward, stumbled on a round stone, and camedown on her knees, pitching Evelyn over her head into the dust of themetalled road. 

Kresney stifled an oath. "What the devil did the little fool do thatfor?" he muttered between his teeth. 

Springing to the ground, he shouted to a passing native child to holdthe two horses, and hurried to Evelyn's side, reflecting as he wentthat, if she were not seriously injured, the accident might have itsadvantages. She was on her knees when he reached her, and was pressingboth hands to her temples. 

"Are you badly hurt?" he asked, anger banished by real anxiety. 

"I don't--know. Oh--my head--my head!"

The words ended in a sob; she swayed as if she would fall, and quickas thought his arm went round her, pressing her close. But at histouch she recovered herself as if by magic; and pushing him fiercelyaside, staggered panting to her feet. 

Kresney stood regarding her for a moment, an evil expression in hiseyes. 

"Well, I'm damned!" he broke out at length. "I'm not a disease thatyou should shake me off in that fashion. "

"I'm sorry, " she said with quick-coming breaths. "You meant to bekind, I know, but--don't touch me again, please. "

"I only wanted to keep you from falling in the dust, " he retortedhuffily. 

"I know. But--I would rather fall in the dust. "

She spoke almost in a whisper, yet with such obvious sincerity that heset his teeth viciously and answered nothing. 

She remained standing before him, helpless, tantalising, unapproachable, in her childlike dignity. Her head was dazed andthrobbing. Her knees shook under her so persistently that she gave itup at last, and sank down in the road, covering her face with herhands. 

"Oh, how _am_ I going to get home?" she moaned, more to herself thanto him. 

He came and stood near her again. He was surprised to find how keenlyher distress hurt him, and now that his anger was past, her flash ofindependence made her more alluring than ever. 

"If you won't let me lay a finger on you, " he said in an altered tone, "I don't see how I can be any use. But if you will condescend to useme as a prop, I'll put you up on the mare, and walk beside you; thenyou can hold on to me if you feel shaky. We are not far off now, andthe boy can take my pony on. Will that suit you?"

She looked up gratefully through a mist of tears. 

"Thank you. It is nice of you to be so kind to me after--what I said. "

"No man in his senses could be anything but kind to _you_. " Andbending down he once more encircled her with his arm, raising her toher feet, and taking his time over the proceeding. For an instant, inmere weakness, she leaned her light weight upon him; and his sense oftriumph was complete. 

"No hurry, " he assured her gently. "You're very shaky still, youknow. "

But she stiffened at the cautious tightening of his arm, and stumbledforward, so that he had some ado to repress his irritation. 

He lifted her to the saddle; and, seemingly oblivious that he hadoffered himself as a mere prop, took such full advantage of thepermission to support her till they reached the bungalow, that she wasvaguely troubled, though too dazed and shaken to attempt furtherremonstrance. 

"May I come in?" he asked, as he set her on the ground. 

"Yes, please come. Won't you stay to dinner?"

"I should like to, awfully. "

"Very well then, do. "

She managed to walk into the drawing-room; but as he laid her on thesofa, her head fell limply backward, and she fainted. 

He stood watching her intently for a few seconds. Then he bent overher, low and lower, till his lips almost rested upon hers. But at thispoint something checked his despicable impulse--perhaps the purity ofher face, or merely its unresisting stillness. Perhaps he chose todefer the pleasure till a more acceptable moment. He straightenedhimself with a jerk; and hastening into the hall, shouted for brandyand soda-water. 

Very soon a faint colour crept back into her cheeks. She opened hereyes and smiled up at him. 

"Drink some of this, " he said. "It's very weak, and you need it. "

She took a few sips and set down the glass. 

"Better now?" he asked, and leaned over her again, his hand on thesofa back, his lips perilously close to her hair. At that criticalmoment, Wyndham's tall figure appeared in the doorway, closelyfollowed by Honor Meredith. 

Kresney's back was towards him; and the tableau presented by the pairwas equivocal, to say the least of it. For an instant Paul stood stillin sheer stupefaction; then he turned to the girl, his grey eyesablaze with indignation, and she had never liked him better than atthat moment. 

As he stepped forward, Kresney started up with a stifled oath; and thetwo men confronted one another, in silent, undisguised hostility, while Honor hurried to Evelyn's side. 

"What is wrong with Mrs Desmond?" Paul asked coldly, concealing hisnatural anxiety for Theo's wife. 

"Oh, she has had a spill. The mare came down with her; and she faintedwhen I got her home. "

Kresney's pronounced frigidity was more ludicrous than impressive;and the shadow of a smile lurked beneath Paul's moustache as headdressed himself to Honor. 

"Wouldn't it be well to send for Conolly?" he asked. But Evelyninterposed. 

"No, --no, --I don't want Dr Conolly. I'm all right now. "

She raised herself on her elbow in proof of her statement. 

"Mr Kresney was very kind to me. I have asked him to dinner. Won't youstay too?"

"Thanks. I'll go and change, and come back later. You will do thesame, I presume?" And he looked directly at Kresney, who had witenough to perceive that the situation was untenable. 

"It's very good of you to want me, Mrs Desmond, " he said, elaboratelyignoring Wyndham's remark, "but I'd better not stop to-night. Youwon't be fit for much talking after that nasty tumble. "

"Perhaps not. You must come some other night instead. I won't forget. "

She held out her hand with marked graciousness, flashing a defiantglance at Paul, who, in sublime unconsciousness, followed Kresney outinto the verandah, and remained standing on the steps till he hadridden out of sight. 

No words passed between them except a mutually formal "Good-night. "But Paul succeeded in conveying the impression that he regardedhimself as Desmond's representative; and in making Kresney feel moreacutely uncomfortable than he had felt for many a long day. If he haddone no actual harm, the fault did not lie with him; and hisconscience sprang painfully to life under the lash of Wyndham'scontemptuous silence. 

In the drawing-room, conversation fared little better. 

"Why on earth was Major Wyndham so dignified and disagreeable?" Evelynqueried in a tone of frank annoyance. "It isn't _his_ affair. "

"You seem to forget that he is Theo's oldest friend. "

Restrained anger quivered in the girl's low voice. 

"He has news for you--from the Samana, " she added. "There has beensharp fighting. Theo's squadron has done a very dashing bit ofwork;--Major Wyndham will tell you about it, _if_ you care to hear. Now you had better lie quiet till you dress for dinner. " And withoutwaiting for an answer she left the room. 

 * * * * *

Next morning, while she sat at work, wondering how she could broachthe forbidden subject, Evelyn herself came and stood before her with apurposeful air of decision. 

"Honor, " she said, "I don't want anybody to say anything to--Theoabout my accident. Do you see? It is my business to tell him, and notany one else's. Will you let Mrs Olliver know that, please? I don'tcare to speak to her about it myself. "

Honor glanced up quickly. 

"No, Evelyn; it would be just as well not. She happened to be crossingthis hill yesterday when you and Mr Kresney were on the lower road;and--she saw you together. "

"Just the sort of thing she _would_ do! I hate Mrs Olliver! Alwaysspying on me; and I dare say she won't believe the truth even now. ButI won't have her talking to _Theo_ about me, whatever she mayimagine. "

"You know her very little if you think she could do that, " Honoranswered quietly. "She only spoke to me because she fancies I haveinfluence with you. But that seems to be over now. You have chosen togo your own way. It is a very dangerous way. However, I can saynothing more on the subject. "

Evelyn choked back her rising tears. 

"Honor, can't you _see_ that--that I'm frightened and miserable aboutTheo, and I must have something to help me forget? It's no use tryingto make _you_ understand how it feels to have him away upthere--always in danger----"

Honor started and flushed. "Indeed, dear, I do understand, " sheanswered, not quite steadily. 

Evelyn shook her head. 

"You think you do, but you can't really. I know you are great friendswith him, and you'd be very sorry if--if anything happened. But it'sever so much worse for me, because I am--his wife. Now I must go andwrite to him about all this. "

And Honor, left alone, leaned back in her chair, hiding her face inher hands. 

"God forgive me!" she murmured. "How dare _I_ find fault with her, blessed child that she is!"

CHAPTER XXI. 

I AM YOURS. 

 "I knew thee strong and quiet--like the hills; I knew thee apt to pity, brave to endure. " --R. L. S. 

Paul Wyndham's hopes were on the ascendant at last. After a full yearof waiting, he saw himself drawing steadily nearer to his hour ofreward. 

He studied Honor Meredith as a man only studies that on which hislife's happiness depends; and during the past few weeks he had becomeaware of a mysterious change in the girl's bearing. Her beauty--whichhad seemed to him so complete--was now unmistakably enhanced by sometransformation within. Her whole nature seemed to have become morehighly sensitised. Her colour came and went upon the leastprovocation; her frank friendliness was veiled by a shy reserve, thathad in it no hint of coldness; and, more significant than all, hereyes no longer met his own with that disconcerting directness of gazewhich had sealed his lips when they were upon the verge of speech. 

For all his modesty, Wyndham could not fail to interpret these signsaccording to his heart's desire; and when, on the night of Evelyn'saccident, Honor promised him an early ride, prefaced by _chotahazri_[26] in the verandah, he told himself that he need wait nolonger--that the great moment of his life had come at last. 

[26] Early breakfast. 

On the stroke of seven he mounted the verandah steps. A camp table, set with fruit, freshly made toast, and a tea-tray, awaited him in ashadowed corner. Two thick bamboo blinds, let down between the widearches, converted that end of the verandah into a room, its low-tonedcoolness broken only by an arrow of sunlight, shooting through a gapin one of the blinds, like a streak of powdered gold. Wyndham's eyeslingered approvingly on every detail of the homely scene; and hecaught himself wondering what his sensations would be half an hourhence; what words he should speak to her when the dreaded, longed-formoment arrived. 

A light footstep reached his ears; and he turned sharply round to findher standing in the open doorway. 

She did not come forward at once, nor did she speak. For the man'sface was transfigured. She beheld, in that instant, his unveiled heartand spirit--foresaw the ordeal that awaited her. 

Noting her hesitation, he came forward with unconcealed eagerness. 

"Good morning, " she murmured mechanically. There seemed nothing elsethat could be said. 

Then a wave of colour surged into her face; for he kept the hand shegave him, and drew her towards the privacy of the tea-table. She wouldhave sacrificed much at that moment for the power to speak to preventthe pain she was bound to inflict; but her heart seemed to be beatingin her throat; and she endured, as best she might, the controlledintensity of his look and tone. 

"You know--surely you know what I find it so hard to say--I loveyou, --Honor, with all there is of me. I want you--God knows how I wantyou! And--you----?"

He bent his head to receive the answer that need not be spoken inwords. But all vestige of colour was gone from her face, and theunsteadiness of her beautiful mouth cut him to the heart. 

"Oh, forgive me!" she pleaded. "I have been thoughtless, selfish, --blind. But you seemed so entirely my friend--I did notguess. I would have given the world to have spared you--_this_. "

He straightened himself like a man under the lash; but he did notrelinquish her hand. 

"I can't let you reproach yourself, " he said quietly, "because Imisunderstood signs that seemed to tell me your heart was awake atlast. But now--now you know how it is with me, at least you will letme hope----?"

"I wish I might, " she answered, so low that he could scarcely hear. "But--it's impossible!"

"Am I so entirely unworthy--unlovable?"

"No, oh no. It is not that. "

"D'you mean--I was not mistaken. Is there--any one else?"

"Yes. "

It was impossible to lie to him, and the blood rushed back into herface at the confession. 

"Is he _here_?" Paul demanded, with sudden energy. 

"You mustn't ask any questions about--him--about it, please. "

"Only this one. Shall you--marry him?"

"No. Never. "

Sheer incredulity held him silent; and when he spoke there wasrebellion in his tone. 

"Your life and my own are to remain broken, unfulfilled, becauseof--this incomprehensible thing?"

"There is nothing else possible. "

He relinquished her hand at that, giving it back to her, as it were, with a quiet finality of renunciation that shattered her self-control. She sank into a chair and hid her face in a vain attempt to concealthe tears that came in spite of herself. 

He stood beside her for several seconds in a heart-broken silence;then gently touched her arm. 

"Honor--Honor, is it really so impossible--as you think? I tell youplainly I can't understand----"

She uncovered her face and looked up at him. 

"Can any one ever understand--this sort of thing? Isn't it a forceoutside the control of reason, of even the strongest will?"

"You are right, " he answered gravely; and sitting down leaned towardsher, his elbows on the table. "But there remains the fact that soonerthan lose you outright, I am willing to marry you--on any terms. Ifyou have no hope for yourself, could you not bring yourself topartially fulfil mine? Will you--in mercy to me--reconsider yourdecision?"

She looked up quickly with parted lips; but his raised hand enjoinedsilence. 

"My suggestion deserves thinking over for a few minutes, if no longer. And in the meanwhile--" he smiled with a touch of his old humorousresignation to things in general--"we might do worse than have some_chota hazri_. What a brute I was to upset you before you had had amorsel to eat!"

She shook her head, with a faint reflection of his smile. 

"I don't want anything to eat. "

"Oh yes, you do! I suppose I must set you an example of common-sensebehaviour. "

He peeled two bananas with deliberate care, and set one on her plate. Then he lifted the cosy. 

"That tea must be strong by this time; but the water's hot, and youcan doctor it with that. Now--begin. "

He himself began upon his banana, and she glanced at him inastonishment, not untinged with admiration, at his effortlesstransition from controlled passion to the commonplaces of everydaylife. They got through the short meal after a fashion; and both weredevoutly thankful when the demands of common-sense had been fulfilled. 

Wyndham rose, and lit a cigarette. 

"Now, I'll leave you to yourself for five minutes, " he announced. "Itis getting late. But before we go for our ride this matter must besettled once for all. " He laid both hands on the table and lookedsteadily into her face. "You are the most just-minded woman I know. Look all round the question before you decide. Try to realise a littlewhat it will mean for me to give up all hope. In losing you, I loseeverything. There can be no question of any one else for me. Take meor--leave me, I am _yours_ for the rest of my life. "

He turned away to save her from the necessity of answering, and walkedto the far end of the verandah, leaving her alone with the strongesttemptation she had yet experienced--the temptation to trample on herown imperious love, and to accept this man's selfless devotion in thehope that it might one day conquer and monopolise her heart. 

Had marriage with Wyndham entailed immediate removal from theatmosphere of Theo Desmond, hesitancy might have ended incapitulation. But life-long intimacy with him, as the wife of hisclosest friend, was unthinkable for a moment; and if by the wildestpossibility Paul should ever suspect the truth----!

She shuddered and glanced in his direction. 

"Major Wyndham, " she said softly. 

He hastened back to her at once. But one look at her face sufficed. The eagerness faded from his eyes, leaving them cold as a winter skyafter sunset. 

"It was wrong of me to keep you in suspense even for a few minutes, "she said, her gaze riveted on the table. "Please forgive me that I amdriven to hurt you so, and please believe that I do realise what I amlosing----"

"The loss is--not yours, " he said on a note of restrained quietness:and in the stillness that ensued, the impatient horses could be heardchamping their bits. 

He sank into his chair with a gesture of unfeigned weariness; and sheglanced at his face. Its mingled pain and patience pierced her heart. But when at last he spoke, his voice was natural and controlled. 

"I have only one word more to say. I confess I have not the courage tolet you go altogether out of my life. Since nothing else is possible, will you at least accept me as your permanent and--devoted friend?"

She turned upon him in frank surprise. 

"Do you mean that--really? _Can_ you do it? Men always say----"

He smiled a trifle bitterly. 

"Do they? No doubt they are right--for themselves. But I know I havethe strength to accept what I ask, or I would not dare ask it. Youwon't refuse me that much, will you--Honor?"

"No, indeed, no, " she answered, greatly moved. "I can deny you nothingthat I am not forced to deny you--Paul. "

"Ah, there is no woman in the world to compare with you! Let me say itthis once, as I may never tell you so again. "

He rose in speaking, braced his shoulders, and stood looking down uponher, a strangely glad light in his eyes. 

"I have _not_ lost you, after all, " he said. 

She rose also, and gave him both her hands. "No. You have gainedme--for good. I--care now ever so much more than I did when I came outto you this morning. "

"You _do_?"

"Yes--I do. "

He drew her towards him. "Promise me this much, " he said, "that if youshould ever find it possible to--marry me on any conditions--even thehardest--you will tell me so at once, because after this morning Ishall never open my lips on the subject again. "

"I promise. Only--you must not let yourself hope. "

He sighed. "Very well, I will shut out hope, since you command it. ButI shall still have love and faith to live upon. You cannot deprive meof those--Honor. Now shall we go for our ride? Or would you rather goin and rest after all this?"

"No. We will have our ride. I can rest later if I need it. "

"Let me put you up then. Come. "

And she came without a word. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE CHEAPER MAN. 

 "No proposition Euclid wrote, No formulæ the text-books show, Will turn the bullet from your coat, Or ward the tulwar's downward blow: Strike hard, who cares--shoot straight, who can; The odds are on the cheaper man!" --RUDYARD KIPLING: _Arithmetic on the Frontier. _

The second week in March found the little force from Kohat stillskirmishing energetically through a network of ravines, nullahs, andjagged red hills; still dealing out rough justice to unrepentantAfridis in accordance with instructions from headquarters; or asnearly in accordance with them as Colonel Buchanan's pronounced viewson the ethics of warfare would permit. For Buchanan was a just man ofindependent character, a type not ostentatiously beloved by heads ofdepartments. He had a reprehensible trick of thinking for himself andacting accordingly--a habit liable to create havoc among thecard-houses of officialdom; and like all soldiers of the first grade, he was resolute against the cowardly method of striking at the guiltythrough the innocent; resolute in limiting the evils of war to itsauthors and active abettors. 

He had taken full advantage of his temporary rank to run theexpedition on his own lines; and although his instructions includedthe burning of crops, he had kept rigid control over this part of theprogramme; giving officers and men free scope for activity in thedemolishing of armed forts and towers, and in skirmishes with thewild tribes who harried their transport trains, rushed their pickets, sent playful bullets whizzing through the mess-tent at night, andgenerally enjoyed themselves after the rough and ready fashion of thehillsman across the Border. 

The Afridis in truth were merely tired of behaving like good children. The unstained knives at their belts cried shame on them for theirprolonged abstinence from the legitimate joys of manhood;--the musicof bullets whistling down a gorge, the yielding of an enemy's fleshunder the knife. 

Therefore, when Colonel Buchanan and his little force started punitiveoperations, they were met by a surprisingly concerted and spiritedresistance. The cunning tribesmen, having got what they wanted in theshape of excitement, were determined to make the most of it. Thus, theexpedition had flared up into one of those minor guerilla campaignswhich have cost England more, in the lives of picked officers, thanshe is ever likely to calculate; being, for the most part, careful andtroubled about weightier matters. 

The sweeping movement, organised to include all villages implicated inthe raid, took longer than had been anticipated. The demolishing ofAfridi watch-towers, manned by the finest natural marksmen in theworld, and built on bases proof against everything but gunpowder, isno child's play; and at almost every village on the line of route thetroops had found their work cut out for them. That they carried it outgallantly and effectively need hardly be said, since we are dealingwith the pick of India's soldiers, the Punjab Frontier Force. 

Their daily march led them along broken tracks or boulder-strewn bedsof torrents, winding through a land where "the face of God is arock";--a land feigning death, yet alive with hidden foes whoannounced their presence from time to time by the snick of abreech-bolt, the whing of a bullet, or a concerted rush upon therear-guard from some conveniently narrow ravine. 

Little interruptions of this sort helped to keep all ranks on thealert, and to make things cheerful generally; but they also took uptime. And although the middle of March found them back withintwenty-one miles of Kohat, there seemed little hope of quieting thecountry under another week or two at least. 

On the evening of the 16th, after two days of skirmishing and a brokennight under the stars, imperative need of water compelled them toencamp at the open end of a valley whose enclosing heights narrowedabruptly to the northward into an ugly-looking gorge. 

Tents sprang up right and left; lines for horses and mules establishedthemselves in less time than it would take the uninitiated to seewhere and how the thing could be done; and that eighth wonder of theworld, the native cook, achieved a four-course dinner with a mud oven, army rations, a small supply of looted fowls, and a large supply ofingenuity. A party of cavalry, having reconnoitred the ravinesbranching off into higher hills, reported no signs of the enemy. Acordon of sentries was told off for duty; and the posting of strongpickets on the near hill-tops, and in the neighbourhood of the campitself, completed the night's arrangements. Clanking of accoutrements, jangle of harness, and all the subdued hum of human life, died awayinto stillness; lights dropped out one by one; and the valley wasgiven over to silence and a multitude of stars. 

Touched into silver here and there by the ethereal radiance--forstarshine is a reality in India--the scene presented a Dantesquemingling of beauty and terror, --the twin elements of life, which are"only one, not two. "

At a little distance behind the clustering tents the ground slopedboldly upward to summits dark with patches of stunted forest; andbeyond these again the snow-peaks of the Safed Koh mountains stooddreaming to the stars. Lower down, at rare intervals, dwarf oaks andthe "low lean thorn" of the desert stood out, black and spectral, against the lesser darkness of rocks and stones. In the valley itselfthe stones had it all their own way;--a ghostly company, rounded andpolished by the stream, which crept among them now a mere ribbon ofsilver, but in four months' time would come thundering through thegorge in a garment of foam, with the shout of a wild thing loosed frombondage. The triumph of desolation was reached in the savage peaksthat almost fronted the camp and descended to the valley in a cataractof crags. Here even the persevering thorn-bush could take no hold upona surface of bare rock, split up into clefts, and chiselled to suchfantastic shapes that the whole might have inspired Dante's conceptionof the ravine by which he descended to the nether hell. 

Absorbed in the requirements of earth, and untroubled by ghostlyimaginings, officers and men slept soundly, with one eye open, assoldiers experienced in Frontier warfare learn to do; and when at lastthe earth, turning in its sleep, swung round towards the sun and thestill air quivered with foreknowledge of morning, a sudden outcroppingof life, where no life should be, amply justified the need forvigilance. 

From the darkness of a ravine some distance above the camp, a shadowymass of figures poured hurriedly, stealthily, into the valley--men ofsplendid physique, in loose dark draperies or sheepskin coats, carrying leathern shields and the formidable Afridi knife, bone-handled, with a two-foot blade that will halve a man's head as ifit were a lemon. 

By a preconcerted arrangement they divided into two parties, andkeeping within the deepest patches of shadow, bore down upon thenearest pickets with a fierce, soundless rush, --the most disconcertingform of attack to sleepy sentries in the small hours, when life andcourage are at their lowest ebb. But the picket sentries happened tobe Sikhs; and they are ill men to tackle at close quarters or tospring on unawares. 

Close upon the first determined rush came a scuffle, a smotheredshout, the sharp crack of rifles in quick succession; and before thehills had flung back the volley of sound, the whole camp hummed withlife from end to end, like a broken ant-heap. 

A fusilade of shots rang out on all sides. Men hurried about among thetents, concentrating at the two points of attack. Here and there, amidthe puffs of smoke that rose and vanished in the blue, a lifted swordor sabre gleamed like a flash of light. 

A number of Afridis forced their way into the camp, lunging at everytent-rope within reach of their long knives, and in the dim light itwas not easy to distinguish friend from foe. But the first sharp shockof encounter past, it became evident that the troops were getting thebest of the affair; and the Afridis, whose valour is not alwaystempered with discretion, saw fit to beat a rapid retreat up thevalley, hoping to reach the ravine before the cavalry started inpursuit. 

The men in camp, meanwhile, had leisure to breathe freely, after theirrough awakening; to look about and recognise one another, and exchangecheerful congratulations on the resolute stand made by the Sikhs. 

"That you, Desmond?"

The Colonel's voice greeted Desmond as he emerged from his tent wherehis servant had been pressing on him a half-cold cup of cocoa; and thetwo men faced each other, bareheaded, in shirt and breeches, unmistakable stains upon their naked blades. 

"The Ressaldar's falling in your squadron, " Buchanan said briskly. "Lose no time, and follow 'em up like hell. They'll break away intothe hills, of course. But the chances are they'll concentrate again inthe gorge and try to catch the main body as it passes through. So ifthey give you the slip now, ride straight on and secure the defile forus. I'll send out a detachment of infantry at the double to crown theheights; and I can safely leave all minor details to your discretion. "

"Thank you, sir. " And Desmond departed to carry out his orders withhigh elation at his heart. 

There is no compliment a soldier appreciates more keenly than onewhich takes the practical form of leaving details to his owndiscretion; and, coming from Buchanan, it was doubly acceptable. For, in Desmond's opinion, there were few men in the world like theColonel, hard and uncommunicative as he was; and it never occurred tohim that his strong, unspoken admiration was returned with interest bythe reserve-ridden Scot. 

During the next fifteen minutes he fully justified his sobriquet of"_Bijli-wallah_ Sahib. " Before the Afridis were out of sight a hundredand sixty sabres, headed by himself and Denvil, dashed along therugged pathway in gallant style, the men leaning well forward, andurging their horses to break-neck speed. But the enemy were well aheadfrom the start, and in any case, they had the advantage on their ownrough soil. The squadron overtook them--breathless and eager--just asthe final stragglers plunged into a lateral cleft, which would holdthe darkness for another half-hour at least. 

Further pursuit was out of the question; and, by way of consolation, the foremost sowars were ordered to dismount and open rapid fire inthe direction of the fugitives. Groans, curses, and the thud offalling bodies testified to its effect; and with laconic murmurs ofsatisfaction the men remounted, and rode on up the rapidly narrowinggorge. 

By now, along the silver snows to eastward, the great change hadbegun. The sky was blue above them; and the last of the stars hadmelted in the onrushing tide of light, which had already awakened thesandstone peaks to the warm hue of life. 

The party mounted the ascent at a foot's pace to ease their horses;and Desmond's eyes and mind, being as it were "off duty, " turnedthoughtfully upon the Boy who rode at his side, a very incarnation ofgood health and good spirits. It seemed that the outcome of hiscritical inspection was approval, for it ended in a nod that confirmedsome pleasant inward assurance. During the past few weeks Denvil hadproved himself thoroughly "up to the mark";--hot-headed but reliable;square and upright in mind as in body; a fine soldier in the making. He had not yet arrived at the older man's keen mental interest in hisprofession; but closer intimacy with Desmond had kindled in him ananswering spark of that idealism, that unswerving subordination ofself to duty which justifies and ennobles the great game of war. Hecoveted action, risk, responsibility--three things which the StaffCorps subaltern, especially on the Frontier, tastes earlier than mostmen; and which go far to make him one of the straightest specimens ofmanhood in the world. In Denvil's eyes the whole expedition was onetremendous spree, which he was enjoying to the top of his bent; andDesmond, remembering the good years of his own apprenticeship, couldgauge the measure of that enjoyment to the full. He felt justified inexpecting great things of the Boy, and decided to work him hard allthrough the hot weather;--in his eyes the highest compliment a mancould pay to a promising junior. 

"By the way, Harry, " he said suddenly, as the defile, deep-sunkenbetween towering rock, loomed darkly into view, "I've got a word ofencouragement for you before we part company. You did an uncommonlygallant bit of work in that skirmish yesterday. The Colonel spoke ofit; and congratulated me on having the smartest subaltern in theregiment. Of course I've known it myself this long while; and I don'tthink it will hurt you to know it too. "

Denvil flushed hotly through his tan. 

"I should be rather a poor sort of chap if I didn't manage to dopretty well--under you, " he said, with awkward bluntness, lookingstraight between his charger's ears. 

Desmond laughed. "Very neatly turned off, old chap. Now, I'm bound tocall a halt till the Sikhs come up with us. Hope to goodness they'llbe quick about it. Confounded nuisance having to wait. "

Both men reined in their horses, and their consuming impatience. Thesquadron followed suit; and in an amazingly short time the Sikhs cameinto view, toiling lustily up the incline at their utmost speed. 

Desmond turned in his saddle and raked the hillsides with hisfield-glasses. 

"Looks empty enough, in all conscience, " he remarked. 

The words were hardly spoken when a single shot startled the echoes ofthe rocks, and instant alertness passed like an electric currentthrough the squadron. The advance guard, which had already entered thedefile, consisted of three promising young Pathans from Denvil'stroop; and anxiety for the fate of his favourites pricked the Boy tokeener impatience. 

"I say, Desmond, " he urged, "can't I take twenty men and push on tofind out what's up. They'll be taking pot-shots at my men, unless Iput a stop to it. For God's sake, let me go. "

Desmond could not repress an approving smile at an impetuosity thatmatched his own. He glanced down the valley at the advancing Sikhs, and saw that he would not be long delayed in following on. Moreover, he shared the Boy's anxiety for his three picked men; and a shotfired, being tantamount to a declaration of hostilities, justifiedimmediate advance to the scene of action. 

"Go ahead then, " he said. "Advance warily; and good luck to you. "

The Boy needed no second bidding. Eagerly, yet with all dueprecautions, he went forward with his handful of Pathans; and was soonlost to sight and sound in the darkness of the giant cleft. 

Desmond, left alone, could hardly contain himself till the infantrycame up. Dividing into two flanking parties, they scrambled up thesteep slopes into the full radiance of dawn; while Desmond, with hissquadron ready drawn up, awaited the signal, "All's clear, " beforeentering the defile. 

In due time it came; and they moved on between the frowning cliffs ata pace as rapid as the exigencies of the situation would permit. 

Here night fronted them, dank and chill. It was as if the clock hadbeen put back four hours. Only a jagged strip of sky, betweenprojecting crags, announced the advent of day. No living thing seemedto inhabit this region of perpetual twilight. At intervals a gnarledand twisted bush grew out of a cleft, lifting spectral foliage towardwhere the sun should be, and was not. Silence pervaded the dusk like aliving presence; unseen, but so poignantly felt that the whisper ofthe stream and the crunch of shingle under the horses' hoofs seemed anaffront to the ghostly spirit of the place; and the sowars, whenexchanging remarks among themselves, instinctively refrained fromraising their voices. 

Desmond, closely followed by his trumpeter, rode ahead of thetroopers, chafing at their leaden-footed progress. A hand-gallop wouldhave been too slow for the speed of his thoughts, tormented as he wasby anxious wondering what had become of the Boy; while his ears werestrained to catch the first sounds of contest from the heights, whichwere already widening out a little, and beginning to slope towardslower ground. 

Sounds came at length--harsh and startling;--the unmistakable note ofthe jezail; answering shots from his own men;--proofs incontestablethat a sharp engagement was in progress up above. 

"Ambuscaded, --by Heaven!" was Desmond's instant thought. Mercifullythe exit was already in sight; and flinging brisk instructions to theRessaldar to follow him closely with a hundred sowars, leaving theremainder to take charge of the horses, and hold the opening tillfurther orders, Desmond made for it full tilt, spurring Badshah Pasandas he had never been spurred in all his days. On dashing out into thesunlight he was greeted by a rattle of musketry from behind a tumbledmass of rock; and a dozen bullets buzzed about him like bees. 

One riddled his helmet, stirring his hair as it passed. A secondstruck his left shoulder, inflicting a flesh wound of which he was noteven conscious at the moment; for Badshah Pasand lunged ominouslyforward; swayed, staggered; and with a sound between a cough and agroan, fell headlong, flinging his rider clear on to the rough upwardslope. 

Luckily for him, Desmond pitched on to his sound shoulder; and thoughbruised and shaken, was none the worse for his fall. The foremost ofhis men dismounted and opened fire upon the treacherous rock, withouteliciting response; and quick as lightning he sprang to his feet, madwith rage and pain. A single glance showed him that his charger'swounds were mortal. Two well-directed bullets had entered the chest;and the great soft eyes were glazing fast. 

With a swift contraction of the heart, Desmond turned away, and issuedhurried orders for a hundred men to dismount and take the hill at fullspeed. Half a dozen of Denvil's Pathans--left in charge of thediscarded horses--gave information that the Sahib had taken his sowarsup some time before, commanding them to await his return. 

Distracted by anxiety, Desmond awaited the dismounting of histroopers, revolver in hand. The instant they were ready he boundedover the broken ground, his trumpeter dogging him like a shadow, and aself-imposed bodyguard of six sowars following close upon his heel. Behind these again the mountain-side was alive with clambering men;and the small party left below enviously watched their ascent. 

Only by the impetus of his spirit did Desmond manage to keep ahead ofhis men; for in general the native outstrips the Englishman in thisform of mountaineering. One thought hammering at his brain goaded himto superhuman exertion: "Those devils shall not murder Harry before Ireach him. "

Breathless and resolute, he hurried on, stumbling now and again fromsheer excess of haste, clenching his teeth to keep the curses back. Adull stain spread slowly across his left shoulder, where the blood wassoaking through his khaki coat. 

The slope ended in a twenty-foot wall of rocks, massed so as to formhuge irregular steps, that led to an abrupt bit of level, whereon thefighting appeared to be taking place. Sounds came to him now thatlashed him to a frenzy; the clash of knives and sabres, the thud ofmany feet; the fierce shouts without which it is impossible forprimitive man to slay or be slain. 

Desmond never quite knew how he climbed those formidable steps; and ashe vaulted up the last of them, the whole dread scene sprang abruptlyinto view. 

Denvil and his fifteen Pathans had been ambuscaded and outnumbered;and in the cramped space a sharp hand-to-hand encounter was inprogress. A small party of Sikhs had already come up with him; buteven so the odds were heavily on the wrong side. It was simply a caseof "dying game";--of adding one more to the list of "regrettableincidents" which figure too frequently in the record of Borderwarfare. 

A new risen sun smiled serenely down upon it all; and the awakenedearth was frankly indifferent to the issue. 

But amid the stirring confusion of a struggle at close quartersDesmond saw one thing only; and the sight struck at his heart like asword-thrust. 

Harry Denvil, hard pressed by four Afridis brandishing long knives andleathern shields, stood with his back against a rock, fighting fordear life. 

Five of his men and several of the enemy lay dead or wounded aroundhim. His left arm was disabled; his helmet gone; his hair gleamingred-gold in the sunlight; his young face, white and desperate, disfigured by an ugly cut across the forehead and cheek-bone, fromwhich the blood trickled unheeded in a sluggish stream. 

He had flung away his empty revolver; and was warding off blows rightand left, using his sword with a coolness and dexterity which wouldhave surprised him had he been aware of it. But he was aware ofnothing except a fierce desire not to die yet--not yet; and to get astraight cut at one of the dark faces that pressed in upon him withsuch pitiless persistence. 

At sight of Desmond a great cry broke from him. 

"Desmond!" he shouted; "Desmond--thank God!"

For answer Desmond ran blindly forward, sheer lust of slaughter in hisheart; trumpeter, bodyguard, and the foremost troopers following asclosely as their captain's ardour would permit. 

But an unreasoning sense of safety put Harry momentarily off hisguard. He took a hasty step away from the rock, making it possible forthe first time to strike at him from behind: and, in the same instant, Desmond fired. Before his bullet could reach its destination, the longknife had descended, swift and certain. And even as the man whowielded it dropped like a log, Harry Denvil stumbled forward; and, with a thick sob, fell face downward at Desmond's feet. 

There was no time to stoop and ascertain whether the knife hadcompleted its work. Striding across his subaltern's body, Desmondturned upon his assailants, all the natural savage in him lashed to awhite heat of fury, and fired twice in quick succession, with deadlyeffect. But the knife of a third man bit into his flesh like fire, inflicting deep gashes on the left arm and hand, while another slippedbehind him, his uplifted blade glinting in the sunlight. 

By this time Rajinder Singh was behind him also; and like alightning-streak, his tulwar whizzed through the air, cleaving theman's head from his body at a blow. 

Desmond swung sharply round to find his reinforcements swarming overthe plateau's edge. 

"Well struck, Sirdar Sahib!----"

But the sentence was never finished. A puff of smoke from behind adistant rock, the boom of a jezail, and Desmond fell beside the Boy, stunned by a well-aimed shot on the edge of the cheek-bone, the slugglancing off perilously close to the right eye. 

A shout of rage went up from his men. "The Captain Sahib, --the CaptainSahib!" But Rajinder Singh promptly assuming command, bade them turnupon the Afridi devils and smite their souls to hell; and, forming aprotective ring about their fallen officers, they obeyed with rightgoodwill. 

The arrival of supports, however, made it clear to the enemy that theythemselves were now heavily outnumbered; and after a desultoryresistance they broke up and fled, the sowars zealously speeding theirdeparture. 

The whole incident had passed in an incredibly short space of time;and now, with a low cry, Rajinder Singh sank on his knees besideDesmond, cold fear at his heart, his lean fingers trembling as theypushed up the watch-strap and pressed the smooth tanned wrist. 

"He lives!--_Parmeshwar_[27] be praised;--the Captain Sahib lives!"the old man murmured ecstatically, shaking his head at the same timeover the wound in the cheek-bone, which had an ugly look. 

[27] God. 

In Denvil's wrist no flutter of life was left. The Boy's soul hadpassed unstained to its account; and the Ressaldar's stern eyessoftened as they rested on the bright, blood-stained hair. 

Very gently, as though Denvil were merely asleep, he turned him overand closed the unseeing eyes. No shadow of pain marred the repose ofthe lips. They looked as if they had just left off smiling and meantvery soon to smile again. 

The Ressaldar sighed, and shook his head thoughtfully once again. 

"Doubtless it was written, . . . It was the will of God, " he decided, with the pious stoicism of the East; and thereupon issued immediateorders to his signallers to open up communication with the main bodyof troops in the valley, enumerating casualties, and adding an urgentrequest for an ambulance party to be pushed forward at the utmostspeed. 

 * * * * *

A short stab of pain jerked Desmond back to consciousness with a curseupon his lips. He found himself lying in a hospital doolie set in theshade on a slab of rock. Both flaps had been flung up, and JamesMackay stood beside him, investigating the wound in his face withconscientious thoroughness. It was not a pleasant proceeding. HenceDesmond's protest, which brought a twinkle of satisfaction to thedoctor's eyes. 

"Curse away, old man. It's a treat to hear you, " he said heartily, "Just take a drop of this now, to keep you all there, " and he held aglass of brandy and water to Desmond's lips. "They've given you anasty wound here. Wants looking to at once. I'm going to hurt you likehell, I know; but you must put up with it. Swear at me as much as youplease, if it eases you at all. "

He probed a peculiarly tender spot as he spoke. Desmond clenched histeeth and "put up with it" in silence. Free permission to swear hadquenched the desire--a common trick of human perversity; and just ashe began to feel that one minute more of it would stretch endurance tobreaking-point--the thing was done. A sloping bandage encircled hishead, eclipsing his right eye; and he discovered that the Colonel wasstanding by the doolie, tugging at his grey moustache--sure sign ofmental disturbance--and listening attentively to the wiry littledoctor, who spoke in an urgent undertone. 

He turned when Mackay left off speaking. 

"Bad business this, Desmond, " he said laconically. "Thank God it wasno worse, though. "

And Desmond had but two words for answer, sharp and anxious. 

"The Boy?"

"We've lost Denvil, " Buchanan growled between his teeth. "And we couldvery ill spare him. "

Desmond closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. Speech was beyond him. His mind, dizzy with pain and loss of blood, refused to grasp thetruth. Two hours ago the Boy had been radiantly, vigorously alive. Itwas rank foolishness to expect a man to believe that he would neverhear him speak or laugh again. 

He was roused by Buchanan's hand on his arm. 

"Look here, Desmond, " he said, "we must be moving again now. I merelycame to see how things were going with you before pushing on. "

"Thank you, Colonel. I'm in the rear for the present, I suppose?" Andhe tried to smile. 

"Not exactly. As we are within two days' march of the station andthere's little left to do but sweep up the rubbish, I have told off astrong escort to return to Kohat with the wounded men, --Denvil, andyourself. You've been badly knocked about, and you need careful seeingto at once. "

"Won't you leave me out of the programme, sir? You know I'm hard asnails; I'm sure I could manage to hang on to the saddle, and be fitfor light duty in a few days' time. Give me the chance, anyway. I'lldo my level best. "

"Never knew you do anything else, " Buchanan answered gruffly. 

Then there was a short silence. Hard as he was, the man rebelledagainst the thing he had to say; and Desmond's unconquerable spiritput him in no better humour for his task. 

"My dear fellow, " he began, "I'm no hand at beating about the bush; Ican only tell you straight that for the present you must give up allhope of getting back to duty, light or otherwise. Mackay is notsatisfied about that wound in your face. The slug went too close tothe eye, and may possibly--have injured the nerve. "

Desmond started and clenched his hand. 

"Good God, Colonel!" he broke out hoarsely. "D'you mean--blindness?"

The ring of open fear in a brave man's voice is not a pleasant thingto hear. Buchanan felt he had been too blunt, and regretted not havingallowed Mackay to speak. 

"Don't jump to hasty conclusions, man, " he said quickly. "We have torecognise the possibility in order to prevent it, --that's all. Mackayreturns with you. He'll get a second opinion, if necessary; and we'vesignalled the news to Wyndham in full. All you've got to do now is toknock under like a man, and give your eyes every possible chance; evenif it means lying in the dark for a week or two; you understand?"

"Yes--I understand. "

There was bitterness in the studied resignation of his tone. 

Colonel Buchanan put out his hand and kept firm hold of Desmond's armwhile he spoke. 

"You'll be reasonable then, and--obey orders? You ought to find thecoast clear going back and have no trouble. Young Spence commands theparty, and Rajinder Singh takes thirty of your men. The old chapbegged for permission to accompany you. See you again in a fortnight, if not sooner. Keep up a good heart; and take every possibleprecaution, for your own sake and--for the sake of the Regiment. "

The final injunctions, jerked out brusquely, were in the nature of anachievement for this man of few words; and Desmond knew it. He wrungthe iron-hard hand that held his own with all the force still left inhim; and Colonel Buchanan returned to his waiting charger. 

That afternoon, under a brilliant sky, the little ambulance party setout for Kohat--thirty cavalry and twenty infantry, with six swayingdoolies in their midst. And among all the occupants of thosecomfortless conveyances, Harry Denvil was the only one for whom thatjourney was not a prolonged torment of pain and unrest. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

YOU GO ALONE. 

 "It is poor work beating butterflies with a cart-rope. " --LUCAS MALET. 

On the morning of that eventful 17th of March, Evelyn and Honor leftthe bungalow directly after breakfast, bent upon such shopping asKohat could afford. 

The nearest approach to shops, in the accepted sense of the word, werethe open stalls in the native city. But there could be no question ofexploring these; and the manifold needs of Western womanhood wereinadequately met by the regimental go-downs attached to each corps inthe cantonment. These consisted of spacious buildings, shelved fromfloor to ceiling, and stocked with a fine medley of humanrequirements, ranging from bone buttons to champagne, from quinine andchlorodyne to rolls of silk for evening gowns. A new consignment from"down-country" came up every month or so; and it was quite one of theevents of life in Kohat to go the round of the go-downs as soon aspossible after the arrival of these, so as to secure the pick of themarket while the goods were fresh and the choice comparatively varied. Herein lay ample scope for those small spites and jealousies that aremore than bread and meat to women of a certain type. 

Evelyn had actually sent for gloves and shoes by this means, from acheap Calcutta firm, instead of despatching an order to Simla regallyregardless of cost. They by no means satisfied her fastidious taste;but she felt exalted to a superhuman pitch of virtue as she bore themhome in her dandy. 

"I don't believe Theo will like these shoes one bit!" she remarkedwith a satisfied laugh to Honor who rode beside her. "He will tell meto order the next ones from Simla straight away, and I shall be everso dutiful and obey him without any fuss--shan't I, you grave, wiseHonor?"

"I should be an inhuman monster if I could keep grave and wise in yourcompany!" Honor answered, laughing back at her. "You will go on buyingexpensive shoes to the end of the chapter, if that's what you aredriving at. Why have your spirits gone up with such a run thismorning?"

"I don't know. It's nice enough that they _are_ up. I got a lovelyletter from Theo--that's partly why, perhaps. " Her eyes softened atthe remembrance of that letter. "He'll be home again in less than afortnight. "

"Yes; in less than a fortnight, " Honor repeated, and wondered whereshe should go when that time arrived. She had not yet found courage toface the idea in detail. 

Evelyn kept up an unbroken ripple of hilarity till the verandah wasreached, laughing as Honor had not heard her laugh since Theo hadleft. 

"You're 'fey, ' child, " she said, as she helped her out of the dandy. "I shall have you in floods of tears before night. "

"No, you won't; I don't feel as if anything _could_ happen to make mecry to-day. Hullo! there's Major Wyndham's horse out there. "

Honor started. 

"What can he want over here so early? Come in quick and find out. "

They hurried through the hall into the dining-room, Evelyn leading, aswift premonition of evil killing the laughter on their lips. 

Paul stood by the piano looking at Desmond's photograph; his armsfolded; his "February face" more eloquent than he knew. 

"Good-morning, Mrs Desmond, " he said; and his sympathetic hand-claspsent her mercurial spirits down to zero. 

"What is it?" she asked, blanching visibly. "You have brought badnews?"

Paul assented in silence. 

"If it is very horrible--don't tell me--I won't hear it!" She held upboth hands, as if warding off a blow. But Honor, coming quicklyforward, put both arms round her. 

"Hush, dear, hush!" she said soothingly. "That is nonsense. We _must_know what has happened, at once. "

"Let him tell _you_, then; it won't hurt you like it hurts me. " Anddisengaging herself, she went over to the verandah doorway, and stoodthere, looking out into the sunshine; her back to the room; her smallhands clasped; every nerve strained to miss no word of what waspassing behind her. 

Honor turned promptly on Paul, an anguish of suspense in her eyes. 

"Is it--the worst?"

"No--no--not that, " he reassured her hastily. 

"Tell me everything, please. "

"I only know bare facts; the news came by helio. It seems there was asharp hand-to-hand engagement. The Boy and some of his men were takenby surprise. Just as Theo reached them Denvil was--killed!"

A stifled sound broke from Evelyn. 

"And--Theo?" Honor's low voice seemed to come from very far away. 

"Theo has been badly cut about. Four wounds. The most serious is abullet wound in his face--close to the right eye. They seem afraidthat he may possibly--lose his sight. "

"It is not true--oh, it is _not_ true!" Evelyn's hands went up to herhead with a desperate cry. Then she swayed, tottered backward, andfell prone among the sofa cushions. 

"Honor--come to me--I'm frightened!" she moaned, without lifting herhead; and in an instant Honor was bending over her, murmuring bravewords of encouragement, removing her hat, and mechanically smoothingher hair. 

"Is--he still here?" Evelyn asked under her breath. 

"Yes, dear. Do you want him?"

"No--no; send him away. I want you--only you!"

Wyndham was already nearing the door and Honor followed him out intothe hall. 

"You see she's a little off her balance, poor child. "

"Yes, I see, " he answered wearily. "And I thank God with all my heartthat _you_ are here. Will you tell Mrs Desmond that an escort isreturning to-day with Theo and--the Boy. They will reach Kohatto-morrow evening. "

Honor straightened herself suddenly. 

"I will tell her. To-morrow evening. Does Frank know too?"

"Yes; she was in when I came. It upset her very much. Not a soul inthe regiment--officers or men--will have a minute's peace of mind tillthe result of this wound is known for certain. In all the misery ofit, one is proud to realise that. "

Something of his own grief showed in his voice for the first time, andHonor's heart contracted with too keen a sympathy. 

"Ah, Paul! you speak of it so calmly--as if you were just one with therest. But I, at least, can guess what the pain and suspense must befor you. "

His face softened at the tender inflection of her voice. 

"No, " he said, "even you cannot guess that. Now go back to his wife. If I can be of any use at all send for me. I shall not come roundotherwise till I bring him here to-morrow evening. I mean to ride outwith a small escort and meet them on the way. "

Honor found Evelyn rigid and tearless among her cushions. The strangemingling of coldness and terror in her eyes startled the girl. Shehurried to the sofa and knelt down at her side. 

"Don't look like that, Evelyn, " she said. "It's horrible! Only think, Theo will be here to-morrow evening. Paul told me so just now. "

"To-morrow--to-morrow? He will be here, in this house--to-morrow?" Sherepeated the word with stunned iteration, and there was no feeling inher tone, only an uncanny fear, that chilled the blood in Honor'sveins. 

"I never thought--it would be so soon. How can we manage about gettingaway?"

"Getting away--where--in Heaven's name?" Honor rose abruptly. Shebegan to feel as though she were moving in a nightmare. 

"Oh, anywhere, away from here. I can't--I won't see him, when he is'badly cut about' and--half blind. I thought--if you would take me toMurree--Mrs Olliver would be quite glad to look after him. And when heis better, he could come up too. But if--if he is really going tobe--blind----"

She closed her eyes and shuddered. No flicker of pity stirred inHonor's heart. It needed all her force of will to control her temper, even for a few minutes longer. But a grim curiosity urged her todiscover how far it was possible to travel along such incredible linesof thought and feeling. 

"Well, what then?" she demanded coldly. 

"Then--I know I could--never come back to him--never!" Theo's wifeanswered slowly, without raising her eyes, or the look in Honor's facewould surely have frozen the words on her lips. "To feel that he wasalways in the dark would frighten me out of my life. And he wouldnever be left alone, I know. There are so many--others. "

But Honor could bear no more. Bending down, she caught hold ofEvelyn's shoulders and fairly shook her, as though she would shake herback to life and human feeling. Her blue eyes blazed with indignation. 

"How _dare_ you talk like that!" she said in a low note ofconcentrated wrath. "How dare you think such despicable thoughts! Ofcourse there are others who would give their lives to save him from aminute's pain; and you would let them take your place, --yours? And youcan actually expect that _I_--of all people--will back you up in yourdesertion of him? No indeed! If you go, you go alone; and I shallnever have a word to say to you again. I may be speaking hotly, because I am furiously angry. But I mean every word I say; and myactions will prove it. What's more, _I will not let you go_. You_shall_ stand by him, however frightened you may be. You talkof--loving him, and you would treat him as I should be ashamed totreat a dog! Evelyn! Evelyn!"--her voice broke suddenly, and tearsstarted to her eyes, --"tell me you did not mean what you said; or Idon't know how I am to go on helping you at all!"

There was more of command than of entreaty in the last words, andEvelyn looked up at the transfigured beauty of her face with a slowshivering sigh. 

"You are very wonderful, and very--terrible, Honor, " she said. "Inever imagined you could be as terrible as that. " Then her lipsquivered, and she caught at the girl's skirt, drawing her nearer. "You_must_ go on helping me, or everything will go to pieces. "

"So long as you remain a loyal wife to--Theo, I cannot choose but doso, with all my heart. "

She knelt down again now; and Evelyn, flinging both arms round herneck, broke into a passion of weeping. 

"I think I was half mad, " she moaned through her tears, clinging toHonor as a drowning woman clings to a spar. "And I am dreadfullyfrightened still. But I will do whatever you tell me. I will try to bea loyal wife, even if----"

"We won't think of that at all, " Honor interposed hastily. "Itcannot--it shall not happen!"

But Evelyn's tears flowed on unchecked. The fire of Honor's just angerhad melted the morsel of ice in her heart; and in a very short timeshe had cried herself to sleep. 

Then Honor gently unlocked the clinging fingers, and went straight toFrank Olliver's room. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

I WANT LADYBIRD. 

 "So free we seem; so fettered fast we are. " --BROWNING. 

A low sun was gilding the hill-tops when two doolies, borne by sturdy_kahars_ and escorted by Wyndham and Mackay, passed between thegate-posts of Desmond's bungalow. Honor stood with Evelyn at the headof the verandah steps; but as the _kahars_ halted, and the officersprepared to dismount, she moved back a space, leaving her to welcomeher husband alone. 

The blood ebbed from Evelyn's face as she watched Theo mount thesteps, slowly, uncertainly, supported on either side by Wyndham andthe doctor--he who, in normal circumstances, would have cleared themat a bound and taken her in his arms. His appearance alone struckterror into her heart. Was this the splendid-looking husband who hadridden away full of life and energy, --this strange seeming man, whoseface was disfigured and more than half-hidden by an unsightly bandageand a broad green shade; whose empty coat-sleeve, slashed andblood-stained, suggested too vividly the condition of the arm strappedinto place beneath?

It was all she could do not to shrink back instinctively when the menmoved aside, as Honor had done, to afford husband and wife some smallmeasure of privacy, and Theo held out his hand. 

"They've sent me back rather the worse for wear, Ladybird, " he said, with a smile; "but Mackay will put the pieces together in good time. "

"Oh, Theo--I hope so!--It's dreadful to see you--like that. "

The hand she surrendered to him was cold as ice; and the attempt atwelcome in her voice was checked by a paralysing fear and constraint. Thirty-six hours of severe pain in body and mind had failed to breakhis spirit; but the thing was achieved by a dozen words from his wife. He knew now what to expect from her; and for the moment he wasstricken speechless. 

"I am so--sorry, " she murmured, "about----"

"Yes--yes, I know, " he took her up quickly; and there was an awkwardsilence. 

"Who--what--is in that other doolie?" she asked, in a hurried whisper. 

"The Boy. "

"But, Theo--you're not going to----"

"For God's sake shut up!"

He swayed a little in speaking, and promptly Paul was at his side. Noone had heard what passed; and when Mackay, returning to his post bythe wounded arm, gently urged Desmond forward, Paul signalled toEvelyn to take his place, while he went back to the doolie. 

"Just a minute, Mrs Desmond, " he said in a low tone. 

Evelyn, startled by the request, stood irresolute; and since there wasno time for hesitancy, Honor came forward and put her hand underTheo's elbow. She felt a jar go all through him at her touch, and knewthat he had heard Wyndham's request. 

"Ah, Honor, " he said, by way of greeting, "I'm afraid I've come back amere log on your hands. "

An undernote of bitterness in his tone gave her courage to speak thethought in her mind. "We are only too thankful to have got you backsafe--in any condition, " she murmured. 

He did not answer at once; and she moved away to make place for Paul, whose face was set in very rigid lines. 

"Take me to the _duftur_, " Desmond commanded curtly. "I'll not be putto bed. "

"No, no, man; we'll settle you up in your long chair, " Mackay answeredsoothingly. He perceived that by some means Mrs Desmond had jarred hispatient, and was in high ill-humour with her accordingly. 

At the study door, Amar Singh almost laid his head at Desmond's feet. Within the room they found Frank Olliver arranging pillows and a rugon the deck-chair, and on a table beside it a light meal awaited him. 

The meal ended, they all left him with one accord, instinctivelymaking way for his wife--who was crying her heart out in the nextroom. 

Paul was the last to leave. He remained standing by Desmond, resting ahand on his sound shoulder. But there are silences more illuminatingthan speech; and Theo Desmond knew all that was in his friend's heartat that moment--all that could never be spoken between them, becausethey were Englishmen, born into a heritage of incurable reserve. 

"You're going to pull through this, " Paul said quietly. 

"Am I? Ask Mackay. "

"No need for that--I'm sure of it; and--in the mean while----" Atightening of his grasp supplied the rest. 

"Thanks, old man. I know what you mean. "

Then Paul went reluctantly out, and on into the drawing-room, where hefound Mackay and Honor Meredith in close conference. The little doctorwas laying down the law in respect of his patient with characteristicbluntness. 

"Now, Miss Meredith, " he had said, as he met her in the hall, and drewher aside into the empty room, "I'm a plain man, and you must put upwith plain speaking for the next few minutes. It's no light matter tobe responsible for a chap like Desmond. Not a morsel of use talking tohis wife! She seems to have upset him already. The Lord alone knowshow women do these things. Fools men are to care! But Desmond is whatyou call finely organised; and you can't handle a violin as you woulda big drum. Frankly, now, his eyesight's in danger; and that wound inhis cheek is an ugly one in any case. He wants careful nursing, and Irefuse to put him into Mrs Desmond's hands. I'd deserve hanging formurder if I did! Remains Mrs Olliver, or yourself. 'Twould be awkwardfor Mrs Olliver to take his wife's place when there is a capable womanon the spot. So now, will you take charge of Desmond for me, and putyourself under my orders?--that's the real _mutlub_[28] of the wholematter. You're welcome to say I don't think Mrs Desmond strong enough, if you feel bound to tell a polite lie on the subject. "

[28] Gist. 

Honor had listened to the doctor's brusquely-delivered speech with agrowing sense of helplessness, as of a mouse caught in a trap. Hisstatement of the case was uncomfortably plain. He left her no loopholeof escape; and by the time he fired his final question at her, she haddecided on present capitulation. 

"Yes, I will take charge of him, " she said. "Only Mrs Desmond musthave some share in the nursing--for his sake and her own. "

"Oh, well--well, I suppose she must. The less the better for his sake;and you've got to consider Desmond before every one else at present. Iinsist on that. "

Honor smiled faintly at the superfluous injunction; and it was at thispoint that Paul entered the room. 

Mackay turned on him a face of open jubilation. 

"Congratulate me, Wyndham! I've secured Miss Meredith's services forDesmond. "

"Thank God, " Paul answered fervently; and he thanked Honor also withhis eyes. 

"I shall move into the bungalow myself after the funeral, and give youwhat help I can. He will need a good deal of companionship to keep himfrom chafing at his helplessness. He wished the Boy to be brought hereand buried from his house. I am making all arrangements; and we shallbe round quite early in the morning. Can I see Desmond againto-night?"

Mackay pursed his lips. 

"He'll do best with just the women-folk this evening. Look in afterMess, if you like--last thing. "

"Was Evelyn with him when you left?" Honor asked suddenly, a flash ofapprehension in her tone. 

"No. "

"I must go and see what has come to her, " she said, visibly disturbed. "I shall see you both after Mess. "

She hurried out, and listened intently at the study door. No soundbroke the stillness; and with an aching dread at her heart she passedon to the next door. 

The brief dusk of India was already almost spent; and finding Evelyn'sroom in semi-darkness, she paused on the threshold. 

"Are you there, dear?" she called softly; and was answered by astifled sound from the region of the bed, where Evelyn lay prone, herface buried in the pillows. At that Honor came forward, and laid afirm though a not unkindly hand upon her. 

"Evelyn, this is childish selfishness. Get up and go to him at once. "

The sole answer vouchsafed to her was a vehement shaking of the fairhead; a fresh paroxysm of distress. 

"My dear--my dear, " she urged, bending down and speaking more softly, "you _must_ pull yourself together. This is no time to think of yourown trouble. He is wounded, anxious, and terribly unhappy and--hewants you. Do you call this being a loyal wife? Remember, youpromised----"

Thus appealed to, Evelyn lifted her head, supporting it on one elbow, and showed a grief-disfigured face. 

"Yes, I know. But--couldn't you go to him, just for now, Honor? You'renot upset, like I am;--and say I--I'll come when I'm better. "

Honor went white to the lips. 

"No, Evelyn, " she said, her anger rising as she went on. "There arethings that even _I_ must refuse to do for you. I have done all thatis in my power; but I _will_ not take your place with--your husband. "

Astonishment checked Evelyn's sobbing, and a spark of unreasoningjealousy shot through the mist of her tears. 

"I don't _want_ you to take my place with him. He's _mine_!"

"Then don't ask me to go to him now. "

The counter-stroke was unanswerable. Evelyn made a genuine attempt tostill the uncontrolled quivering of her body, and actually got uponher feet. But abandonment to misery had so shaken her that, even asHonor put out a steadying hand, she fell back among her pillows with achoking sob. 

"It's no use, " she moaned. "Go, Honor--go _now_; and say I--I'mcoming. "

The girl set her teeth hard. A strange light gleamed in the blue ofher eyes. She moved across to the washing-stand and poured out a stiffdose of sal volatile. 

"Here, Evelyn, " she said, all the tenderness gone from her voice, "drink this at once. Then get up as soon as you can, and make yourselfpresentable. I shall not be gone many minutes, and you _must_ be readyto go to him the instant I come back. "

Evelyn choked and spluttered over the burning mixture. 

"Oh, thank you, Honor, thank you. Only--don't look so angry about it, please. "

"I _am_ angry--I am bitterly angry, " Honor answered with suddenvehemence, and went quickly from the room. 

Once outside, she paused; her whole soul uplifted in a wordless prayerfor strength and self-control. It seemed to her that Evelyn'sreception of Theo went far to make her own departure a matter ofimperative necessity, cruelly hard though it was to risk beingmisjudged at such a crisis. 

With heart and spirit braced for her ordeal, she entered the room. 

But at sight of him, who was the incarnation of life, cheerfulness, and vigour, lying stricken in heart and body, her courage desertedher, and she could neither speak nor move. On the lower end of thelong chair Rob nestled in an attitude of perplexed watchfulness;satisfaction and bewilderment contending for the mastery over hisfaithful soul; and Desmond's right arm supported his stunned andaching head. 

As Honor paused on the threshold, he stirred uneasily. "That you, Ladybird?" he asked; and his tone, if listless, was unmistakablytender. 

"No, Theo. It is I--Honor, " the girl answered in a low voice withoutmoving forward. 

"Where's Evelyn, then?"

"She's coming soon--very soon. "

"What's gone wrong with her? Has she fainted? You might come a littlecloser to a fellow, Honor. I feel cut off from everything and everyone, with this damnable green wall in front of my eyes. "

At that cry from the man's tormented heart all thought of her ownpain, all doubt as to her own strength, was submerged by a flood-tideof pure human compassion; and she came to him straightway, kneelingclose beside his chair, and laying one hand lightly on the rug thatcovered him. 

"There, Theo--there. Can you see me a little now?" she asked tenderly. "You mustn't think hard things of--Ladybird--please. She let herselfgo so completely after seeing you in the verandah, and it wasimpossible for her to come to you while she was in such a state ofcollapse. I have given her a strong dose of sal volatile, and shebegged me to explain things to you; so--I came. I can't tell you howsorry I was that it should be--only me. "

He raised his head at that. 

"You've the grit of all the Merediths in you, Honor, " he said, and hischanged tone assured her that she had, in some measure, fulfilled herpurpose. "I can't have you talking about 'only me' in that deprecatingfashion. Goodness knows what Ladybird would have done without you. Nodoubt she'll pull herself together when she has got more used to thehideousness of it all--myself included----"

"She will--I am sure she will, " the girl declared with pardonableinsincerity; "and I really believe that if--if _I_ were not here, Evelyn might make more of an effort to stand on her own feet than shedoes now. Please don't misunderstand me, Theo, "--her brave voicefaltered on the words--"please believe that I myself would far ratherbe here at a time like this. I would not dream of deserting my post ifI were not quite sure that there are many others ready to look afteryou as carefully and willingly as I would do myself. Indeed, I amhonestly suggesting what I think would be best for us allround--Evelyn especially. Won't you let me go, Theo, and at least tryhow it works?"

Desmond shook his head with cautious deliberation, since hastymovements had proved to be dangerous. 

"My dear Honor, " he objected, "you, who know Ladybird even better thanI do, must surely know by now that nothing will force her to standupon her own feet. To-day gives final proof of it. What's more, Paulwill probably establish himself here. I can't have him criticisingher, even in his own mind; and who but you can I rely on to preventit, by keeping her up to the mark? You see, I am taking you at yourword, and not misunderstanding you, and I ask you frankly to stand byus till this trouble is over, when you shall both go straight to theHills. "

"Very well, Theo; I will stay. "

But her voice had an odd vibration in it. There was no refusing arequest so worded; but she knew her decision was only deferred to amore seasonable moment. 

"Thank you with all my heart, " he said. "You'll not regret it, I feelcertain. "

During the pause that followed, the wounded man made a futile attemptto change his position. In an instant her hands were at his pillows, shifting them quickly and dexterously, supporting his shoulders withher arm the while. 

"There, that's better, isn't it?" she asked; and the mother-notesounded in her voice. 

"It's just beautiful, thank you. Now--I want Ladybird. "

Honor's colour ebbed at the words, and she may be forgiven if a pangof rebellion stabbed her. All the hard tasks, it seemed, were to behers; while for Evelyn was reserved the full measure of a love andtenderness which she seemed little able to rate to their true value. But there was no trace of emotion in her voice as she replied, "Youshall have her at once; only she mustn't stay long. You have alreadytalked more than is good for you. "

"Talked?" he echoed, with a sudden outburst of impatience. "What elseis there for me to do? I can neither read, nor write, nor move. Am Ito lie here like a log, with my own black thoughts for company? I'mnot ill, in spite of all. "

"No, Theo, you are not ill now, " the girl reasoned with him in allgentleness, "but with a wound like that so near your temple you soonwill be ill, if you refuse to be moderately careful. Evelyn shall stayfor a quarter of an hour. After that you _must please_ obey me and liequiet, so as to get a little sleep, if possible, after your crueljourney. Amar Singh shall sit here, and I will leave the drawing-roomdoor open and play to you;--something invigorating--the Pastoral, tostart with. Will that do?"

His prompt penitence caught at her heart. 

"Forgive me, Honor, " he said. "I was an ungrateful brute, and you're along way too good to me. I'll obey orders in future, without kickingagainst the pricks. The music will be no end of a comfort. Just likeyou to think of it!"

CHAPTER XXV. 

THE MOONLIGHT SONATA. 

 "The depth and dream of my desire, The bitter paths wherein I stray, Thou knowest, who hast made the Fire, Thou knowest, who hast made the Clay. " --KIPLING. 

When the bedroom door opened, Desmond lifted his head, in a distractedattempt to see more of his wife than the shade would permit, and heldout his hand. 

"Come, Ladybird. I want you. "

She came at his bidding, and put her hand in his. But, unwittingly, she stood no nearer than the action demanded; and in her bewilderedmisery she forgot that he would expect her to stoop and kiss him. Itwas a fatal omission--how fatal she did not realise till later. 

He drew her closer with quiet decision; and she submitted, as shewould have submitted to anything he might have chosen to do just then. 

"Am I so very dreadful that you can't bear to come near me?" he asked, with a brave attempt at lightness. 

"Oh, Theo, don't say that, " she pleaded. It came too painfully nearthe truth. "Only--I can't seem able to believe that--it is reallyyou. "

"Well, I give you my word it _is_ really me--the very same Theo whowon the Punjab Cup, and danced with you at Lahore three months ago. "Then he bit his lip sharply; for the thought smote him that he mightnever sit a pony or dance with her again. 

The sob that had been clutching at her throat escaped, in spite ofherself. "Lahore!" she murmured. "It was all so beautiful at Lahore!"

"Don't cry about it, darling. It will be just as beautiful again, intime. Sit down on the floor--here, close to me. I can't get a sight ofyou any other way. "

She sat down, but in such a position that he had only a scant view ofher tear-disfigured face. He pushed the damp ringlets back from herforehead. In his eyes it was her misfortune, rather than her fault, that she should be so inexorably chained to her own trouble. 

Her spirit and her love revived under the magic of his touch. Shecaught his hand and pressed it against her burning cheek. It was cooland steady and sustaining--the hand of a brave man. 

"Poor child, " he said gently. "I'm an uncomfortable sort of husbandfor you. But little accidents of this kind will happen to soldiers. Don't say you wish you hadn't married this one!" And he smiled. 

"No--no. But, Theo, did you get all these wounds and things trying tosave the Boy?"

"Yes; more or less. "

"And it wasn't a scrap of use?"

"No. One had the satisfaction of killing the men who did for him. Thatwas all!"

"And you might just as well have come back strong and splendid, likeyou went away?"

"No use thinking of what might have been, darling. We've got to setour teeth and face what _is_. "

"Oh, Theo--you are very brave. "

"Needs must, Ladybird. If a man fails in that, he had better not havebeen born. And you are going to be brave too, --my wife. "

"Yes, --I hope so. But--it's much more horrible than I ever imagined;and if it's going on for weeks and weeks----"

The prospect so unnerved her that she leaned her head against him, sobbing bitterly. 

"Oh, I can't--I can't----!"

The low cry came straight from her heart; and Desmond understood itsbroken protest to the full. The effort to uphold her was to beuseless after all. He compressed his lips and gently released herhand. 

"If it's as bad as that, my dear, and you really feel it will be toomuch for you, " he said in a changed tone, "I might arrange for Honorto take you away in a day or two, till I am well enough to follow on. They all know here that you are not strong. One need not degrade youby telling--the whole truth. "

"But, Theo, I couldn't leave you like that--just now, could I?"

His smile had a hint of scorn. 

"Goodness knows! There is nothing to prevent you----"

"Yes--there is!" she spoke hurriedly, with downcast eyes. "Honor wouldnever take me. She thinks it's dreadful that I should go. I never sawher so angry before. She--she said--terrible things----"

"Good God! What do--you--mean?"

Desmond spoke slowly. Anger and amazement sounded in his deep voice;and his wife saw what she had done. 

"Theo!--Theo!" she cried, clasping her hands, and wringing them indistraction at her own foolishness, "I never meant to say that. I--I----"

"No--but you meant to do it, " he said, breathing hard and speakingwith an effort. "You actually thought of--going--before I came? Youwould have simply--bolted, and left me to come back to an empty house, if Honor had not prevented you? Great heavens! I can well believe shesaid terrible things. "

His wife knelt upright now and caught at his hand. But he withdrew ithastily. 

"Theo--will you listen to me and not be so angry? You are veryunkind!"

"Am I? Don't you think it is the other way about? I confess I'm in nohumour to listen to you just now. I've had about as much as I canstand to-night; and Mackay told me I must not upset myself aboutthings. " He laughed harshly--a sound that chilled her blood. "But nomere man could anticipate _this_!"

"Well, I never _meant_ to say it, and I think you're horrid, you don'tunderstand----"

"No; thank God, I don't understand--cowardice and desertion. Get upnow and leave me alone, please. It's the greatest kindness you can dome; and yourself also, I imagine. "

"Oh, don't say that. It's not true; and I'm not going to dream ofleaving you. Won't you let me explain?"

"To-morrow, Evelyn, to-morrow, " he answered wearily. "I shall be ableto give you a fairer hearing by then; and I pray God I may havemisjudged you. Now--go. "

She bent down and kissed his hand; then rose and slipped silently backinto her own room. 

 * * * * *

Theo Desmond lay motionless, like a man stunned. This third blow, dealt him in quick succession, left him broken in heart and spirit, ashe had never been broken in all his days. 

It is written that a man must be defeated in order to succeed; and inthat moment Desmond bit the dust of the heart's most poignant tragedyand defeat--the shattering of faith in one who is very near to us. Norwas it the shattering of faith alone. The shock of his wife'sunwitting revelation, coming when he stood supremely in need of herloyalty and tenderness, struck a mortal blow at his love for her;though in his present state he was not capable of recognising thetruth. He only knew that, for the first time in his life, he feltunutterably alone--alone in a dimness which might deepen to permanentdarkness; and that the wholesome vigorous realities of life seemed tohave slipped for ever out of reach. He only knew that his wife wouldhave turned her back upon him in his hour of extremity--openlydisgracing herself and him--but for the intervention of HonorMeredith. 

Her mere name called up a vivid vision of her beauty, a remembrance ofthe infinite compassion in her voice when she had knelt beside him, soothing and strengthening him by some miracle of womanly intuition, urging him to make allowance for his wife's distress. 

A sudden glow thrilled through him from head to foot. He stirredslightly; and tried, without success, to turn in his chair. It was asif the compelling spirit of her had dragged him back from the brinkof nothingness to renewed life, to the assurance that in his utmostloneliness he was not--nor ever would be--alone. And, in that momentof awakening, the voice of sympathy came to him--tender, uplifting, clear as speech. 

Honor Meredith had begun to play. 

By way of prelude she chose a piece of pure organ music--theexquisitely simple Largo of the Second Sonata. From that she passed onto the Pastoral itself, opening it, as of custom, with the fineAndante movement--the presage of coming storm. 

None among all that wondrous thirty-two is so saturate with open-aircheerfulness and vigour as this Sonata, aptly christened the Pastoral. Here we are made accomplices of Nature's moods, and set in the midstof her voices. Here, in swift succession, are storm and sunshine;falling rain-drops; the plash and ripple of mountain streams; birdnotes of rare verisimilitude, from the anxious twitterings before thethunder-shower, to the chorus of thanksgiving after it has sweptvigorously past. And Theo Desmond, lying in semi-darkness, with painfor his sole comrade, knew that the hand of healing had been againoutstretched to him, --not all in vain. 

The Sonata ended in a brisk ripple of sound; and for a while Honor satmotionless, her shapely hands resting on the keyboard as if awaitingfurther inspiration. 

Desmond moved again uneasily. He wondered what her unfailing intuitionof his need would lead her to play next; and even as he wondered, expectancy was lulled into a great rest by the measured tranquillityof Beethoven's most stately and divine Adagio--the Moonlight Sonata. 

There are some people who get deeper into a piano than others, whobreathe a living soul into the trembling wires. The magic of Honor'smusic lay in this capacity; and she exerted it now to the limit of herpower. 

The Moonlight Sonata is cumulative from start to finish, passing fromthe exalted calm of the Adagio, through the graciousness of theAllegretto, to that inspired and inspiring torrent of harmony thePresto Agitato. Its incomparable effect of the rush and murmur of manywaters, through which the still small voice of melody rings clear asa song dropped straight from heaven, leaves little room in alistener's soul for the jangling discords of earth. Into that movementthe great deaf musician seems to have flung the essence of hisimpatient spirit;--that rare mingling of ruggedness and simplicity, ofpurity and passionate power, which went to make up the remarkablecharacter of the man, and which sets Beethoven's music apart from themusic of his compeers. Wagner, Chopin, Grieg, --these range the wholegamut of emotion for its own sake. But in the hands of the master itbecomes what it should be--the great uplifting lever of the world. 

The listener in the darkened room drew a long breath, and clenched histeeth so forcibly that a spasm of pain passed, like a fused wire, through the wound in his cheek. But the keener stress of mind andheart dulled his senses to the pin-prick of the flesh. For in thebrief space of time since the music began, Theo Desmond--the soldierof proven courage and self-forgetfulness--had fought the mostmomentous battle of his life;--a battle in which was no flourish oftrumpets, no clash of arms, no medal or honour for the winning. 

But the price of conquest had still to be paid. There were stillpractical issues to be faced, and he faced them with thestraightforward simplicity that was his. He saw as in alightning-flash, the hidden meaning of this girl's power to stimulateand satisfy him; saw the unnameable danger ahead; and in the samebreath decided that Honor must go. There must be no risk of disloyaltyto Evelyn, were it only in thought. 

He could not as yet see how he was to retract his request for herpresence. His stunned brain refused to cope with such harassingdetails. The thing must be said; and no doubt he would find strengthto say it aright. For him that was enough; and he deliberately turnedhis back on the subject. 

The Presto was drawing to a close now in a cascade of single notes, asstirring to the ear as the downrush of a waterfall to the eye; andduring the silence that followed upon the last crashing chords, thebitter thought came to him that Honor's departure would mean not onlythe loss of her comradeship, but of the music, which had again becomeone of the first necessities of his life. 

With a sensation altogether strange to him, since it had in it anelement of fear, he heard her shut the piano and come towards the doorof his room. Closing his eyes, he lay very still, in the hope that shemight believe him to be asleep. Ordinary speech with her seemed animpossibility just then. 

He felt her come in, and pause beside his chair. His stillness clearlydeceived her, for she said nothing; neither did she move away, as hehad devoutly hoped she would do. 

Remembering that his eyes were hidden, he opened them; and wasrewarded by the sight of her cream-coloured skirt, and her handshanging loosely clasped upon it. An intolerable longing came upon himto push off the shade; to satisfy himself with one glimpse of her facebefore banishing it out of his life. But strength was given him toresist, and to realise his own cowardice in deceiving her thus. 

Then, because he was incapable of doing anything by halves, he made aslight movement and put out his hand. 

"Thank you, " he said simply. "You have heartened me more than I cansay. "

"I am so glad, " she answered in a low tone, allowing her hand to restfor a mere instant in his. "Now I want you to shut all trouble out ofyour mind, and go to sleep for a long time. Will you?"

At that the corners of his mouth went down. 

"Easier said than done, I'm afraid. But it's sound advice; and I'll domy best to act upon it. "

"In that case--you are bound to succeed. "

And, without waiting for his possible answer, she slipped quietly outof the room. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

STAND TO YOUR GUNS. 

 "It is so that a woman loves who is worthy of heroes. " --R. L. S. 

Wyndham, returning to the bungalow soon after ten o'clock, found itreadjusted to its new conditions. Frank Olliver had returned to herempty home; and Desmond, at his own request, had had his camp-bed madeup in the study, that he might in no way disturb his wife. She herselfhad retired early, without going in to him again. Honor noted andwondered at the omission; but since Evelyn had said nothing about hershort interview with Theo, she forbore to question her or press herunduly at the start. 

When Paul arrived Desmond was sound asleep, wearied out with pain ofbody and mind; while Honor moved noiselessly to and fro, setting inreadiness all that might be wanted before morning. Paul came armedwith Mackay's permission to remain on duty for the night, taking whatlittle rest he required on the drawing-room sofa, and Honor could notwithhold a smile at his satisfaction. 

"I believe you're jealous!" she said. "You want to oust me, and havehim all to yourself!"

"You are right, " he answered frankly; and going over to the bed, stoodlooking upon his friend in an unspeakable content, that even anxietywas powerless to annul. 

For all that, it was late before Honor managed to leave her patient, and slip away into the bare room where Harry Denvil lay awaiting thedawn. 

Save for the long scar across his face, no suggestion of that lastdesperate fight was visible; and in the presence of the Great Silence, her own turmoil of heart and brain was stilled as at the touch of areassuring hand. She knelt a long while beside the Boy. It pleased herto believe that he was in some way aware of her companionship; thatperhaps he was even glad of it--glad that she should feel no lightestshrinking from the temple that had enshrined the brave jewel of hissoul. 

Arrived in her own room, she found Parbutti huddled on the ground, ina state of damp and voluble distress. She could not bring herself todismiss the old woman at once; though her heart cried out forsolitude, and weariness seemed suddenly to dissolve her very bones. She saw now that her love had deepened and strengthened duringDesmond's absence, as great love is apt to do; and the shock of hisreturn, coupled with the scant possibility of her own escape, hadtried her fortitude more severely than she knew. 

She submitted in silence to the exchanging of her tea-gown for a whitewrapper, and to the loosening of her hair, Parbutti crooning over herceaselessly the while. 

"Now I will soothe your Honour's head till weariness be forgotten, Omy Miss Sahib, daughter of my heart! Sleep without dreams, my life;and have no fear for the Captain Sahib, who is surely favoured of thegods by reason of his great courage. "

While her tongue ran on, the wrinkled hands moved skilfully over thegirl's head and neck, fingering each separate nerve, and stilling thethrobbing pulses by that mystery of touch, which we of the West arejust beginning to acquire, but which is a common heritage in the East. 

"Go now, Parbutti, " Honor commanded at length. "Thy fingers bemiracle-workers. It is enough. "

And as Parbutti departed, praising the gods, Honor leaned her chinupon her hands, and frankly confronted the decision that must bearrived at before morning. 

To her inner consciousness it seemed wrong and impossible to fulfilher promise and remain; while to all outward appearance it seemedequally wrong and impossible to go. She could not see clearly. Shecould only feel intensely; and her paramount feeling at the momentwas that God asked of her more than human nature could achieve. 

The man's weakness and dependence awakened in her the strongest, thedivinest element of a woman's love, and with it the longing to upholdand help him to the utmost limit of her power. It was this intensityof longing which convinced her that, at all costs, she must go. Yet atthe first thought of Evelyn her invincible arguments fell back like adefeated battalion. 

If she had sought the Frontier in the hope of coming into touch withlife's stern realities, her hope had been terribly fulfilled. 

"Dear God, what _ought_ I to do?" she murmured on a note of passionateappeal. But no answer came out of the stillness; and sheer human needwas too strong upon her for prayer. 

Rising impulsively, she went over to the wide-flung door that led intothe back verandah, and rolled up the "chick, " flooding the room withlight; for a full moon rode high in the heavens, eclipsing the fire ofthe stars. She stepped out into the verandah, and passed to the farend, that looked across a strip of rocky desolation to the hills. 

The whole world slept in silver, its radiance intensified by patchesof blue-black shadow; and with sudden distinctness her night journeyof a year ago came back to her mind. What an immeasurable way she hadtravelled since then! And how far removed was the buoyant-hearted girlof that March morning from the woman who rebelled with all her soulagainst the cup of bitterness, even while she drank it to the dregs!

Deliberately she tried to gather into herself something of the night'scolossal calm, to wrest from the starved scrub of the desert a portionof its patience, its astounding perseverance; to stifle her cravingfor clear unprejudiced human counsel. 

By a natural impulse her thought turned to Mrs Conolly, who alonepossessed both will and power to satisfy her need. To speak of her owntrouble was a thing outside the pale of possibility. Death itself werepreferable. But to consult her friend as to what would really be bestfor Evelyn was quite another matter. She would go and see Mrs Conollybefore breakfast and be ruled by her unfailing wisdom. 

Having arrived at one practical decision, her mind grew calmer. Shewent back to her room, lowered the "chick" and knelt for a long whilebeside her bed--a white, gracious figure, half-veiled by a duskycurtain of hair. 

Habit woke her before seven; and she dressed briskly, heartened by asense of something definite to be done. A sound of many feet andhushed voices told her that Wyndham and the Pioneer officers hadarrived. Chaplains were rare on the Border in those days; and Wyndhamwas to read the service, as he did on most occasions, Sundaysincluded. 

When Honor came out into the hall she found the chick rolled up andthe verandah a blaze of full-dress uniforms. No man plays out his lastact with more of pomp and circumstance than a soldier; and there is asingular fitness in this emphasis on the dignity rather than thetragedy of death. 

The girl remained standing afar off, watching the scene, whosebrilliance was heightened by an untempered April sun. 

A group of officers, moving aside, revealed two scarlet rows ofPioneers; and beyond them Paul's squadron, striking a deeper note ofblue and gold. The band was drawn up ready to start. Slanting raysflashed cheerfully from the brass of trumpets, cornets, bassoons; fromthe silver fittings of flutes; from the gold on scarlet tunics. And inthe midst of this ordered brilliance stood the gun-carriage, grey andaustere, its human burden hidden under the folds of the English flag. Behind the gun-carriage the Boy's charger waited, with an air ofuncomplaining weariness, the boots hanging reversed over the emptysaddle. 

With an aching lump in her throat Honor turned away. At that momentthe shuddering vibrations of muffled drums ushered in the "Dead March"and each note fell on her heart like a blow. 

In passing the study door she paused irresolute, battling with thatrefractory heart of hers, which refused to sit quiet in its chains. Itargued now that, after all, she was his nurse; she had every right togo in and see that all was well with him. But conscience and thehammering of her pulses warned her that the greater right was--torefrain; and straightening herself briskly, she went out through theback verandah to Mrs Conolly's bungalow. 

She had not been gone twenty minutes when Evelyn crept into the study, so softly that her husband was not aware of her presence till herfingers rested upon his hand. 

He started, and took hold of them. 

"That you?" he said gently. "Good-morning. "

There was no life in his tone; and its apathy--so incredible a qualityin him--gave her courage. 

"Theo, " she whispered, kneeling down by him, "is it any good trying tospeak to you now? Will you believe that--I am ever so sorry? I havebeen miserable all night; and I am not frightened any more, --see!" Intoken of sincerity she caressed his empty coat-sleeve. "Will youplease--forgive me? Will you?"

"With all my heart, Ladybird, " he answered quietly. "But it's no usespeaking. A thing like that can't be explained away. It is simplywiped off the slate--you understand?" And almost before the words wereout she had kissed him. 

Then she slid down into a sitting position, one arm flung lightlyacross the rug that covered him. 

In that instant the thunder of three successive volleys shook thehouse; and heart-stirring trumpet-notes sounded the Last Post. With asmall shudder Evelyn shrank closer to her husband, resting her headagainst his chair; and Desmond lay watching her in silent wondermentat the tangle of moods and graces which, for lack of a truer word, must needs be called her character. He wondered also how much mighthave been averted if she had come to him thus yesterday instead ofto-day. Impossible to guess. He could only wrench his thoughts awayfrom the forbidden subject; and try to beat down the strong newyearning that possessed him, by occasionally stroking his wife's hair. 

It is when we most crave for bread that life has this ironical trickof presenting us with a stone. 

 * * * * *

Honor, in the meanwhile, had reached Mrs Conolly's bungalow. Shefound her in the drawing-room arranging flower-vases, and equipped forher morning ride. 

"Honor? You? How delightful!" Then catching a clearer view of thegirl's face: "My dear--what is it?"

Honor smiled. 

"I am afraid you were going out, " she said, evading the question. 

"Certainly I was; but I am not going now. It is evident that you wantme. "

"Yes--I want you. "

Mrs Jim called out an order to the waiting _sais_; and followed Honor, who had gone over to the mantelpiece, and buried her face in the coolfragrance of a cluster of Gloire de Dijons. 

Mrs Conolly took her gently by the arm. 

"I can't have you looking like that, my child, " she said. "Your eyesare like saucers, with indigo shadows under them. Did you sleep a winklast night?"

"Not many winks; that's why I am here. "

"I see. You must be cruelly anxious about Captain Desmond, as we allare; but I _will not_ believe that the worst can happen. "

"No--oh no!" Honor spoke as if she were beating off an enemy. "But thetrouble that kept me awake was--Evelyn. "

"Ah! Is the strain going to be too much for her? Come to the sofa, dear, and tell me the whole difficulty. "

Honor hesitated. She had her own reasons for wishing to avoid MrsConolly's too sympathetic scrutiny. 

"You sit down, " she said. "I feel too restless. I would rather speakfirst. " And with a hint of inward perplexity Mrs Conolly obeyed. 

"It's like this, " Honor began, resting an arm on the mantelpiece andnot looking directly at her friend, "Dr Mackay has asked me to takeentire charge of Theo for the present. He spoke rather strongly, --rathercruelly, about not leaving him in Evelyn's hands. I think he wanted toforce my consent; and for the moment I could not refuse. But this isEvelyn's first big chance of rising above herself; and if I step inand do everything I take it right out of her hands. This seems to meso unfair that I have been seriously wondering whether I ought notto--go right away till the worst is over. " And she reiterated thearguments she had already put before Theo, as much in the hope ofconvincing herself as her friend. 

Mrs Conolly, watching her with an increasing thoughtfulness, divinedsome deeper complication beneath her unusual insistence on the wrongpoint of view; and awaited the sure revelation that would come when itwould come. 

"You see, don't you, " Honor concluded, in a beseeching tone, "that itis not easy to make out what is really best, what is right to be done?And Evelyn's uncertainty makes things still more difficult. One momentI feel almost sure she would 'find herself' if I were not always ather elbow; and the next I feel as if it would be criminal to leave herunsupported for five minutes at a time like this. "

"That last comes nearer the truth than anything you have said yet, "was Mrs Jim's unhesitating verdict. "Frankly, Honor, I agree with DrMackay; and I must really plead with you to leave off splitting strawsabout your 'Evelyn, ' and to think of Captain Desmond--and CaptainDesmond only. Surely you care more for him, and for what comes to him, than your line of argument seems to imply?"

Honor drew herself up as if she had been struck. The appeal was sounlooked for, the implication so unendurable, that for an instant shelost her balance. A slow colour crept into her cheeks, a colour drawnfrom the deepest wells of feeling; and while she stood blanklywondering how she might best remedy her mistake, Mrs Conolly's voiceagain came to her ears. 

"Indeed, my child, you spoke truth just now, " she said slowly, a freshsignificance in her tone. "It must be _very_ hard for you to make outwhat is right. "

Honor threw up her head with a gesture of defiance. 

"Why should you suddenly say that?" she demanded, almost angrily. Butthe instant her eyes met those of her friend the unnameable truthflashed between them clear as speech and with a stifled sound Honorhid her face in her hands. 

Followed a tense silence; then Mrs Conolly came to her and put an armround her. But the girl stiffened under the touch of sympathyimplying mutual knowledge of that which belonged only to herself andGod. 

"How could I dream that you would guess?" she murmured, withoutuncovering her face--"that you would even imagine such a thing to bepossible?"

"My dearest, " the other answered gently, "I am old enough to knowthat, where the human heart is concerned, all things are possible. "

"But I can't endure that you should know; that you should--think illof me. "

"You know me very little, Honor, if you can dream of that for amoment. Come and sit down. No need to hold aloof from me now. "

Honor submitted to be led to the sofa, and drawn down close beside herfriend. The whole thing seemed to have become an incredible nightmare. 

"Listen to me, my child, " Mrs Conolly began, the inexpressible note ofmother-love sounding in her voice. "I want you to realise, once forall, how I regard this matter. I think you know how much I have lovedand admired you, and I do so now--more than ever. An overwhelmingtrouble has come upon you, by no will of your own; and you areevidently going to meet it with a high-minded courage altogetherworthy of your father's daughter. "

Honor shivered. 

"Don't speak of father, " she entreated. "Only--now that youunderstand, tell me--tell me--what _must_ I do?"

The passionate appeal coming from this girl--apt rather to err in thedirection of independence--stirred Mrs Jim's big heart to its depths. 

"You will abide by my decision?" she asked. 

"Yes; I am ready to do anything for--either of them. "

"Bravely spoken, my dear. In that case I can only say, 'Stand to yourguns. ' You have promised to take over charge of Captain Desmond, and asoldier's daughter should not dream of deserting her post. Mind you, Iwould not give such advice to ninety-nine girls out of a hundred inyour position. The risk would be too serious; and I only dare give itto you because I am _sure_ of you, Honor. I quite realise why you feelyou ought to go. But your own feelings must simply be ignored. Yourone hope lies in starving them to death, if possible. Give Evelyn herchance by all means, but I can't allow you to desert Captain Desmondon her account. You must be at hand to protect him, and uphold her, incase of failure. In plain English, you must consent to be a mereprop--putting yourself in the background and leaving her to reap thereward. It is the eternal sacrifice of the strong for the weak. Youare one of the strong; and in your case there is no shirking thepenalty without an imputation that could never be coupled with thename of Meredith. "

Honor looked up at that with a characteristic tilt of her chin, andMrs Conolly's face softened to a smile. 

"Am I counselling cruelly hard things, dear?" she asked tenderly. 

"No, indeed. If you were soft and sympathetic, I should go away atonce. You have shown me quite clearly what is required of me. It willnot be--easy. But one can do no less than go through with it--insilence. "

Mrs Conolly sat looking at the girl for a few seconds. Then:

"My dear, I am very proud of you, " she said with quiet sincerity. "Ican see that you have drawn freely on a Strength beyond your own. Justtake victory for granted; and do your simple human duty to a sick manwho is in great need of you, and whose fortune or misfortune is amatter of real concern to many others besides those near and dear tohim. I know I am not exaggerating when I say that if any serious harmcame to Captain Desmond it would be a calamity felt not only by hisregiment, but by more than half the Frontier Force. He has the 'geniusto be loved, ' that is perhaps the highest form of genius----"

"I know--I know. Don't talk about him, please. "

"Ah! but that is part of your hard programme, Honor. You must learn totalk of him, and to let others talk of him. Only you must banish himaltogether _out of your own thoughts_. You see the difference?"

"Yes; I see the difference. "

"The essence of danger lies there, and too few people recognise it. Ibelieve that half the emotional catastrophes of life might be tracedback to want of self-control in the region of thought. The world'sreal conquerors are those who 'hold in quietness their land of thespirit'; and you have the power to be one of them if you choose. "

"I do choose, " Honor answered in a low level voice, looking straightbefore her. 

"Then the thing is as good as done. " She rose on the words, and drewHonor to her feet. "There; I think I have said hard things enough forone day. "

Honor looked very straightly into the elder woman's strong plain face. 

"I know you don't expect me to thank you, " she said; "we understandeach other too well for that. And we will never speak of this again, please. It is dead and buried from to-day. "

"Of course. That is why I have spoken rather fully this morning. Butbe sure you will be constantly in my thoughts, and--in my prayers. "

Then she took possession of the girl, holding her closely for a longwhile; and when they moved apart tears stood in her eyes, though shewas a woman little given to that luxury. 

"This has been a great blow to me, dear, " she said. "I had such highhopes for you. I had even thought of Major Wyndham. "

Honor smiled wearily. 

"It was perverse of me. I suppose it ought to have been--Paul. "

"I wish it had been, with all my heart; and I confess I am puzzledabout you two. How has he come to be 'Paul' within this lastfortnight?"

"It is simply that we have made a compact. He knows now that he cannever be anything more than--Paul--the truest friend a woman everhad. "

"Poor fellow! So there are two of you wasted!"

"Is any real love ever wasted?" Honor asked so simply that Mrs Conollykissed her again. 

"My child, you put me to shame. It is clearly I who must learn fromyou. Now, go home; and God be with you as He very surely will. "

Then with her head uplifted and her spirit braced to unflinchingendurance, Honor Meredith went out into the blue and gold of themorning. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE EXECRABLE UNKNOWN. 

 "Doubting things go wrong, Often hurts more than to be sure they do. " --SHAKESPEARE. 

Honor found Evelyn in a state of chastened happiness, buttering toastfor Theo's breakfast, which stood ready on a tray at her side. 

"Would you like to take this in yourself?" she said, as she completedher task. "I think he would be pleased. He was asking where you were. "

The suggestion was so graciously proffered that Honor deposited alight kiss on the coiled floss silk of Evelyn's hair as she bent abovethe table. Then she took up the tray, and went on into the study. 

She entered, and set it down without speaking; and Desmond, who waslying back with closed eyes, roused himself at the sound. 

"Thank you, little woman, " he said. Then, with a start, "Ah, Honor, --it's you. Very kind of you to trouble. Good-morning. "

The contrast in his tone and manner was apparent, even in so fewwords; and Honor was puzzled. 

"I hope you got some sleep last night, " she said, "after that cruelthirty-six hours. "

"More or less, thanks. But I had a good deal to say to Paul. You andhe seem to have become very close friends while I have been away. "

"We have; permanently, I am glad to say. I should have come in to youwhen I got up, but I was sure he would have done everything you couldwant before leaving. "

"He did; and he'll be back the minute he's through with his work. Heis an incomparable nurse; and with him at hand, I shall not needto--trespass on so much of your time, after all. "

Honor bit her lip and tingled in every nerve, less at the actual wordsthan at the manner of their utterance--a mingling of embarrassment andschooled politeness, which set her at arm's length, checkedspontaneity, and brought her down from the heights with the speed of adropped stone. 

"It is not a question of trespassing on my time, " she said, and inspite of herself a hint of constraint invaded her voice. "But I haveno wish to deprive Paul of his privilege and right. You can settle itwith Dr Mackay between you. Now, it's time you ate your breakfast. Canyou manage by yourself? Shall I send Evelyn to help you?"

"No, thanks; I can manage all right. "

He knew quite well he could do nothing of the sort; but his one needwas to be alone. 

"Very well. I shall be busy this morning with mail letters. Evelynwill sit with you till Paul comes; and Frank is sure to be roundduring the day. I pointed out to you yesterday that there were plentyof--others able and willing to see after you. "

Before he could remonstrate she was gone. He drew in his breathsharply, between set teeth, and struck the arm of his chair withjarring force. 

"I have hurt her--clumsy brute that I am. And I must do worse beforethe day's out. But the sooner it's over the better. "

It was his invariable attitude towards a distasteful duty; and hedecided not to let slip a second opportunity. Weak and unaided, hemade what shift he could to deal with the intricacies of breakfast, choking back his irritability when he found himself grasping empty airin place of the teapot handle, sending the sugar-tongs clattering tothe floor, and deluging his saucer by pouring the milk outside thecup. For the moment, to this man of independent spirit, these trivialindignities seemed more unendurable than the loss of his subaltern, the intrusive shadow threatening his self-respect, or the fear ofblindness, that lay upon his heart cold and heavy as a corpse. 

And on the other side of the door, Honor stood alone in thedrawing-room, trying to regain some measure of calmness beforereturning to the breakfast-table. 

Red-hot resentment fired her from head to foot. Resentment againstwhat, against whom? she asked herself blankly, and in the same breathturned her back upon the answer. Chiefly against herself, no doubt, for her inglorious descent from the pinnacle of stoicism, to which shehad climbed barely an hour ago. It seemed that Love, coming late tothese two, had come as a refiner's fire, to "torment their hearts, till it should have unfolded the capacities of their spirits. " ForLove, like Wisdom, is justified of all her children. 

Breakfast, followed by details of housekeeping, reinstatedcommon-sense. After all, since she had resolved to remain in thebackground, Theo had simplified affairs by consigning her to herdestined position. She could quite well keep her promise to Dr Mackay, and superintend all matters of moment, without spending much time inthe sick-room. Evelyn had agreed to accept her share of the nursing;and, as she had said, there were others, whose right was beyond herown. 

Shortly after tiffin, Wyndham arrived with Rajinder Singh; and findingthem together in the drawing-room--after the short interview permittedby Paul--Honor took the opportunity of fulfilling a request made byTheo on the previous evening. 

"I have to write to Mrs Denvil, " she said to Paul. "Would the Sirdarmind giving me a few details about the fighting on the 17th?"

Paul glanced approvingly at the old Sikh, who stood beside him, aprincely figure of a man, in the magnificent mufti affected by thenative cavalry officer--a long coat of peach-coloured brocade, and aturban of the same tint. 

"Mind? He needs very little encouragement to enlarge on Theo's sharein the proceedings. "

"I would like to hear all he can tell me about that, " she answered ona low note of fervour. 

"You could follow him, I suppose?"

"Yes, perfectly. "

"You hear, Ressaldar Sahib. " Paul turned to his companion. "The MissSahib desires full news of the attack and engagement on Tuesdaymorning, that she may write of it to England. "

The man's eyes gleamed under his shaggy brows, and he launched intothe story, nothing loth; his eloquence rising as he warmed to thecongenial theme. 

Paul Wyndham stepped back a few paces into a patch of shadow, thebetter to watch Honor Meredith at his ease. She had balanced herselflightly on the arm of a chair; and now leaned a little forward, herlips just parted in the eagerness of anticipation. A turquoisemedallion on a fine gold chain made a single incident of colour on thehabitual ivory tint of her gown; threads of burnished copper glintedamong the coils of her hair; and the loyal loving soul of her shonelike a light through the seriousness of her eyes. 

And as he watched, hope--that dies harder than any quality of theheart--rose up in him and prevailed. A day must come when thisexecrable unknown would no longer stand between them; when she wouldcome to him of her own accord, as she had promised;--and he could waitfor years, without impatience, on the bare chance of such aconsummation. 

But at this point a growing change in her riveted his attention--achange such as only the eyes of a lover could detect and interpretaright. She sat almost facing him; and at the first had looked towardshim, from time to time, certain of his sympathy with the interest thatheld her. But before five minutes were out he had been forgotten asthough he were not; and by how all else about her was forgotten also. Not her spirit only, but her whole heart glowed in her eyes; and PaulWyndham, standing watchful and silent in the shadow, became abruptlyaware that the execrable unknown--whom he had been hating for the pastfortnight with all the strength of a strong nature--was the man heloved better than anything else on earth. 

The Ressaldar was nearing the crowning-point of his story now. Honorlistened spellbound as he told her of the breathless rush up thatrugged incline, and of the sight that greeted them after scaling themighty staircase of rock. 

"None save the fleetest among us could keep pace with the CaptainSahib, wounded as he was, " the Sikh was saying, when Wyndham, with ahideous jar, came back to reality. "But God gave me strength, though Ihave fifty years well told, so that I came not far behind; and even asDenvil Sahib fell, with his face to the earth, at the Captain Sahib'sfeet, he turned upon the Afridi devils like a lion among wolves, andsmote three of them to hell before a man could say, 'It lightens. ' Yetcame there one pig of a coward behind him, Miss Sahib. Only, by God'smercy, I also was there, to give him such greeting as he deserved withmy Persian sword, that hath passed from father to son these hundredand fifty years, and hath never done better work than in averting thehand of death from my Captain Sahib Bahadur, whom God will makeJungi-Lat-Sahib[29] before the end of his days! For myself I am an oldman, and of a truth I covet no higher honour than this that hathbefallen me, in rendering twice, without merit, such good service tothe Border. Nay, but who am I that I should speak thus? Hath not theMiss Sahib herself rendered a like service? May your honour live long, and be the mother of heroes!"

[29] Commander-in-Chief. 

Rajinder Singh bowed low on the words, which brought the girl to herfeet and crimsoned her clear skin from chin to brow. By a deftquestion she turned the tide of talk into a less embarrassing channel;and Paul Wyndham, pulling himself together with an effort, wentnoiselessly out of the room. 

Passing through the hall, he sought the comparative privacy of theback verandah, which was apt to be deserted at this time of day. Herehe confronted the discovery that tortured him--denied it; wrestledwith it; and finally owned himself beaten by it. There was no evadingthe witness of his own eyes; and in that moment it seemed to him thathe had reached the limit of endurance. Then a sudden question stabbedhim. How far was Theo responsible for that which had come about? Washe, even remotely, to blame?

Had any living soul dared to breathe such questions in his hearingWyndham would have knocked the words down his throat, and severalteeth along with them, man of peace though he was. But the very depthof his feeling for Desmond made him the more clear-eyed and stern injudgment; and the intolerable doubt, uprising like a mist before hisinner vision, held him motionless, forgetful of place and time; tillfootsteps roused him, and he turned to find Honor coming towards him. 

"Why, Paul, " she said, "what brings you here? I have been looking foryou everywhere. I thought you had gone to him. Evelyn says he isalone, and he wants you. "

The unconscious use of the pronoun did not escape Paul's notice, andhe winced at it, as also at the undernote of reproof in her tone. 

"Sorry to have kept him waiting, " he said quietly, and for the firsttime his eyes avoided her face. "I will go to him at once. "

But on opening the study door he hesitated, dreading the necessity forspeech; glad--actually glad--that his face was hidden from his friend. For all the depth of their reserve, the shadow of restraint was athing unknown between them. But the world had been turned upside downfor Wyndham since he left the familiar room half an hour ago. A sparkthat came very near to anger burned in his heart. 

Desmond turned in his chair. Two hours of undiluted Evelyn had lefthim craving for mental companionship. 

"Paul, old man, " he said on a questioning note, "can't you speak to afellow? Jove! what wouldn't I give for a good square look at you! It'spoor work consorting with folk who only exist from the waist downward. You've not got to be running off anywhere else, have you?"

"No; I am quite free. "

"Come on then, for Heaven's sake, dear chap! I have been wanting youall the morning. "

The direct appeal, the pathos of his shattered vigour, and theirresistible friendliness of words and tone dispelled all possibilityof doubt, or of sitting in judgment. Whatever appearances mightsuggest, Paul stood ready to swear, through thick and thin, to theintegrity of his friend. 

He came forward at once; and Desmond, cavalierly ousting Rob, maderoom for him on the lower end of his chair. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

YOU SHALL NOT--!

 "I have very sore shame if like a coward I shrink away from battle. Moreover, my own soul forbiddeth me. "--HOMER. 

Quite a little party of a quiet kind assembled in the drawing-room fortea--Frank Olliver, Mrs Conolly, Wyndham, and his subaltern GeorgeRivers, a promising probationer of a year's standing. The funeral ofthe morning, and anxiety as to the fate of Desmond's eyes, gave asubdued tone to the attempt at cheerfulness that prevailed. But Evelynwas grateful even for so mild a reversion to a more normal conditionof things. 

Each in turn had paid a short visit to the wounded hero in the study;but now they were grouped round the tea-table, leaving him temporarilyalone. Evelyn had just filled his cup; and being in no mood tointerrupt her exchange of light-hearted nothings with George Rivers, she glanced across at Wyndham, who promptly understood the situationand the mute request. 

Honor, standing apart from the rest, noted the characteristic bit ofby-play, and with a pang of envy watched Paul receive the cup andplate destined for Theo's room. It seemed a century since she had lefthim in the morning, with words wrung from her bitterness of heart andregretted as soon as they were uttered; and because of the longing, that would not be stifled, she refrained from the offer that cameinstinctively to her lips. 

But, as if drawn by the magnetism of her thoughts, Paul came straightup to her. 

"Won't you take these yourself?" he said in a low tone. "He has seenplenty of me this afternoon; and when I spoke of you just now he saidyou had not been near him since breakfast. Is that your notion oftaking charge of a patient? It isn't mine, I can tell you!"

He spoke lightly, easily; for if life were to be tolerable, thediscovery he had made must be ignored, without and within. 

"It is not mine either, " she answered, flushing at the unmeritedreproof. "But I am by way of handing over my charge to you. Doesn'tthe arrangement suit you?"

"By all means. But Mackay rightly chose you. Besides, I am not soselfish that I should want to deprive Theo of the pleasure of yourministrations. "

"Deprive him? You are judging him by yourself! It is hardly a questionof deprivation, surely. "

Wyndham glanced at her keenly. 

"Hullo!" he said, "one doesn't expect that sort of tone from you whereTheo is concerned. What do you mean me to understand by it?"

"Nothing--nothing at all! Only--he happens to prefer _your_ministrations. He almost told me so. You or he can settle it with DrMackay to-night. But I will take these in to him--if you wish. "

"Purely as a favour to me?"

Her face lit up with a gleam of irrepressible humour. 

"Purely as a favour to you!"

She took the cup and plate from him, still smiling, and passed on intothe study. 

As she bent above the table, Desmond lifted his head in a vain effortto get a glimpse of her face. 

"Thank you--thank you--how good of you!" he said, his constraintsoftened by a repressed eagerness, which gave her courage to speak herthought. 

"Why am I suddenly to be discomfited by such elaborate thanks, suchscathing politeness?" she asked in a tone of valiant good-humour. 

"I didn't mean it to be scathing. "

"Well, it is. Overmuch thanks for small services is a poor complimentto friendship. I thought you and I agreed on that point. "

He answered nothing. He was nerving himself to the effort of decisivespeech, which should set danger at arm's length and end theirdistracting situation once for all. 

She set the small table closer to his side. 

"I will look in again, in case you should want some more, " she saidsoftly, "if you will promise me not to say 'thank you!'"

"I promise, " he answered with a half smile; and she turned to go. Butbefore she had reached the door his voice arrested her. 

"Honor, --one minute, please. I have something particular to say. "

The note of constraint was so marked that the girl stood speechless, scarcely breathing, wondering what would come next--whether his wordswould break down the barrier that held them apart. 

"Well?" she said at length, as he remained silent. 

"I have been thinking, " he began awkwardly, "over what you saidyesterday--about Evelyn. You remember?"

"Yes. "

"And I have been wanting to tell you that I believe you were right. You generally are. I believe we ought to give her the chance you spokeof. Besides--I asked too much of you. This may be a slow business; andreally we have no right to trade on your unselfishness to the extent Iproposed. You understand me?"

For the life of him he could not ask her to go outright; his excuseappeared to him lame enough to be an insult itself. A fiercetemptation assailed him to push up the detested shade and discoverwhether he had hurt this girl, who had done so infinitely much forhim. But he grasped the side of his chair, keeping his arm rigid assteel; and awaited her answer, which seemed an eternity in coming. 

Indeed, if he had struck her, Honor could scarcely have been morestunned, more indignant, than she was at that moment. But when shefound her voice it was at least steady, if not devoid of emotion. 

"No, Theo, " she said. "For the first time in my life I _don't_understand you. But I see clearly--what you wish; and if you feelabsolutely certain that you are making the right decision for Evelyn, I have no more to say. For myself, you are asking a far harder thingto-day than you did yesterday. But that is no matter, if it is reallybest for you both--I don't quite know what Dr Mackay will say. I willsee him about it this evening; and you will please tellEvelyn--yourself. "

He knew now that he had hurt her cruelly; and with knowledge came therevelation that he was playing a coward's part in rewarding her thusfor all she had done; in depriving Evelyn of her one support andshield, merely because he distrusted his own self-mastery at a time ofsevere mental stress and bodily weakness. 

His imperative need for a sight of her face conquered him at last. Quick as thought his hand went up to the rim of the shade. But Honorwas quicker still. The instinct to shield him from harm swepteverything else aside. In a second she had reached him and secured hishand. 

"You _shall not_ do that!" she said--anger, fear, determinationvibrating in her low tone. 

Then, to her astonishment, she found her own hand crushed in his, witha force that brought tears into her eyes. But he remained silent; andshe neither spoke nor stirred. Emotion dominated her; and her wholemind was concentrated on the effort to hold it in leash. 

For one brief instant they stood thus upon the brink of aprecipice--the precipice of mutual knowledge. But both weresafeguarded by the strength that belongs to an upright spirit; andbefore three words could have been uttered Desmond had dropped herhand, almost throwing it from him, with a decisiveness that might havepuzzled her, but that she had passed beyond the region of surprise. 

Still neither spoke. Desmond was breathing with the short gasps of aman who has ran a great way, or fought a hard fight; and Honorremained beside him, her eyes blinded, her throat aching with tearsthat must not be allowed to fall. 

At last she mastered them sufficiently to risk speech. 

"What _have_ I done that you should treat me--like this?"

There was more of bewilderment than of reproach in the words, andDesmond, turning his head, saw the white marks made by his ownfingers upon the hand that hung at her side. 

"Done?" he echoed, all constraint and coldness gone from his voice. "You have simply proved yourself, for the hundredth time--thestaunchest, most long-suffering woman on God's earth. Will you forgiveme, Honor? Will you wipe out what I said--and did just now? I am notquite--myself to-day; if one dare proffer an excuse. Mackay is right, we can't do without you--Evelyn least of any. Will you believe that, and stay with us, in spite of all?"

He proffered his hand now, and she gave him the one that still tingledfrom his pressure. He held it quietly, closely, as the hand of afriend, and was rewarded by her frank return of his grasp. 

"Of course I will stay, " she said simply. "But don't let there be anytalk of forgiveness between you and me, Theo. To understand is toforgive. I confess I _have_ been puzzled since--yesterday evening, butnow I think we do understand one another again. Isn't that so?"

"Yes; we understand one another, Honor, " he answered without a shadowof hesitation; but in his heart he thanked God that she did notunderstand--nor ever would, to her life's end. 

Relief reawakened the practical element, which had been submerged inthe emotional. She was watching him now with the eyes of a nurserather than the eyes of a woman. 

When he had spoken, his arm fell limply; and he leaned back upon thepillows with a sigh of such utter weariness that her anxiety wasaroused. She remembered that his hand had seemed unnaturally hot, anddeliberately taking possession of it again, laid her fingers on hiswrist. The rapidity of his pulse startled her; since she could have nosuspicion of all that he had fought against and held in check. 

"How _is_ one to keep such a piece of quicksilver as you in a state ofplacid stodge!" she murmured. "I suppose I ought to have forbidden youto talk. But how could I dream that--all this would come of it? Youmust lie absolutely quiet and see no one for the rest of the evening. I will send at once for Dr Mackay; and, look, your tea is all cold. You shall have some fresh--very weak--it will do you good. But notanother word, please, to me or any one till I give you leave. "

"Very well; I'll do my best to remain in a state of placid stodge, ifthat will ease your mind, " he answered so humbly that the tearsstarted to her eyes afresh. "Won't you let me smoke, though? Just onecigarette. It would calm me down finely before Mackay comes. "

Without answering she took one from his case and gave it to him. Then, striking a match, held it for him, till the wisp of paper and tobaccowas well alight; while he lay back, drawing in the fragrant smoke, with a sigh in which contentment and despair were strangely mingled. 

It is to be hoped that, to the end of time, woman's higher developmentwill never eradicate her delight in ministering to the minor comfortsof the man she loves. 

"As soon as I have seen Paul, and sent for Dr Mackay, " Honor said, "Iwill come back and stay with you altogether for the present. "

"Thank you. " He smiled directly the word was out. "I forgot! That'sagainst regulations! But I swear it came straight from my heart. "

"In that case you are forgiven!" she answered, with a low laugh. 

It was such pure pleasure to have recaptured the old spontaneous Theo, with whom one could say or do anything, in the certainty of beingunderstood, that even anxiety could not quell the new joy at herheart. 

Re-entering the drawing-room, she beckoned Wyndham with her eyes andpassed on into the hall. So surprisingly swift are a woman's changesof mood, that by the time he joined her anxiety had taken hold of heragain, to the exclusion of all else. 

"What is it?" he asked quickly. 

"Oh, Paul, you did well to reprove me! We must send the orderly for DrMackay at once. He has fever now--rather high, I am afraid. Did younotice nothing earlier?"

"No; he seemed quiet enough when I was with him. "

"I think he has been worrying over something, apart from his eyes andthe Boy; but I can't get at the bottom of it. No need to make theothers anxious yet; only--I won't leave him again. I intend to stickto my charge after all, " she added, with a sudden smile. "There wassome sort of--misunderstanding, it seems. I don't quite know what, butthere's an end of it now. "

"Thank God!" The words were no mere formula on Paul Wyndham's lips. "Misunderstandings are more poisonous than snakes! Go straight back tohim, and I'll send the orderly flying in two minutes. "

 * * * * *

There was little sleep for either Wyndham or Honor that night. 

The girl persuaded Evelyn to go early to bed, merely telling her thatas Theo was restless she would have to sit up with him for a while;and Evelyn, secretly relieved at not being asked to do the sitting upherself, deposited a light kiss on her husband's hair and departedwith a pretty air of meekness that brought a smile to Honor's lips. 

She had felt mildly happy and oppressively good all day. The tea-partyhad helped to lighten the hushed atmosphere of the house; and her lastwaking thought was of George Rivers' deep-toned voice and franklyadmiring eyes. She decided that he might "do" in place of HarryDenvil, who must naturally be forgotten as soon as possible; becauseit was so uncomfortable to think of people who were dead. 

Desmond's temperature rose rapidly; and the two, who could not bear toleave his side, divided the night watches between them. Amar Singh, his chin between his knees, crouched dog-like on the mat outside thedoor, presenting himself, from time to time, with such dumb yearningin his eyes that Honor devised small services for him in puretenderness of heart. 

Paul took a couple of hours' rest at midnight, on the condition thatHonor should do the same towards morning; and since she was obviouslyreluctant when the unwelcome hour arrived, he smilingly conducted herin person to the threshold of her room. 

"Good-night to you, --Miss Meredith! Or should it be good-morning?" hesaid lightly, in the hope of chasing the strained look from her face. 

"Good-morning, for preference, " she retorted, with an attempt at alaugh. "You can take a horse to the water, but you can't make himdrink! I shan't sleep even for five minutes. "

"You think so; but Nature will probably have her way with you all thesame. "

He moved as if to go, but she came suddenly nearer; and the hiddenfear leaped to her lips. 

"Paul--is there any real danger because of this fever? One is soafraid of erysipelas with a wound of that kind; and it wouldbe--fatal. Has Dr Mackay said anything definite? Tell me--please. Imust know the truth. "

In the urgency of the moment she laid a light hand upon him; andWyndham, bracing the muscles of his arm, tried not to be aware of herfinger-tips through his coat-sleeve. 

"You evidently know too much for your own peace of mind, " he said. "But Mackay is as inscrutable as the Sphinx. One could see he wasanxious, because he was ready to snap one's head off on the leastprovocation; but beyond that I know no more than you do. We can onlydo our poor utmost for him every hour, you and I, and leave theoutcome--to God. "

"Yes, yes, --you are right. Oh, Paul, what a rock you are at a bad timelike this!"

Unconsciously her fingers tightened upon his arm, and a thrill like acurrent of electricity passed through him. Lifting her hand from itsresting-place, he put it aside, gently but decisively. 

"I may be a rock, " he remarked with his slow smile, "but I also happento be--a man. Don't make our compact harder for me than you can help. Good-night again; and sleep soundly--for Theo's sake!"

Before she could find words in which to plead forgiveness, he hadalmost reached the study door; and she stood motionless, watching himgo, her face aflame with anger at her own unwitting thoughtlessness, and humiliation at the exquisite gentleness of his rebuke. 

Surely there were few men on earth comparable to this man, whose heartand soul were hers for the taking. A cold fear came upon her lest inthe end she should be driven to retract her decision; to forego all, and endure all, rather than withhold from him a happiness he soabundantly deserved. 

"_Why_ is it such a heart-breaking tangle?" she murmured, locking herhands together till the points of her sapphire ring cut into theflesh. But she only pressed the harder. She understood now how it wasthat monks and fanatics strove to ease the soul through torments ofthe flesh. A pang of physical pain would have been a positive reliefjust then. But there was none for her to bear. She was young, vigorous, radiantly alive. She had not so much as a headache after heranxious vigil. The high gods had willed that she should feel andsuffer to the full. There is no other pathway to the ultimate heights. 

The soft closing of the study door sounded loud in the stillness; andshe went reluctantly into her own room. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE UTTERMOST FARTHING. 

 "We then that are strong . . . " --ST PAUL. 

To say that Owen Kresney was annoyed would be to do him an injustice. He was furious at the unlooked-for interruption, which bade fair tocancel all that he had been at such pains to achieve. Pure spite somastered him, that even the news of Desmond's critical condition--whichstirred the whole station the morning after the funeral--awakened nospark of pity in that region of concentrated egotism which must needsbe called his heart. 

The "counter-check quarrelsome" would have been welcome enough. Butthis impersonal method of knocking the ground from under his feetgoaded him to exasperation. He had not even the satisfaction ofknowing that he had wrought jealousy or friction between husband andwife. Desmond had practically ignored his existence. There lay thesting that roused all the devil in Kresney; and the devil is a lightsleeper in some men's souls. But the Oriental strain in the man madehim an adept at a waiting game; and finding himself cavalierly thrustaside, he could do no otherwise than remain in the background for thepresent, alert, vigilant, cursing his luck. 

 * * * * *

In the blue bungalow a strained calmness prevailed. The work that mustbe done could only be carried through by living from hour to hour, asPaul had said; and Evelyn could now no longer be shielded from thepain of knowledge. 

On the morning after her first night of vigil, Honor came to her; and, keeping firm hold of both her hands, told her, simply and straightly, that the coming week would make the utmost demands upon her strengthand courage. 

Evelyn listened with wide eyes and blanching cheeks. 

"Did--did _I_ make him bad?" she asked in an awe-struck whisper, forshe had not been able to keep her own counsel in regard to her fatalinterview with Theo. 

"I think not--I hope not, " Honor answered gravely. "But you did woundhim cruelly; and whatever happens, you _must_ not fail him now. "

Evelyn looked up with a distressed puckering of her forehead. 

"I don't want to--fail him, Honor. But you know I'm not a bit of usewith sick people; and I can't all of a sudden turn brave and strong, like you. "

Honor's smile expressed an infinite deal, but she did not answer atonce. She wanted to be very sure of saying the right word; and it isonly when we try to grapple with another's intimate need that we findourselves baffled by the elusive, intangible spirits of those withwhom we share sunlight and food and the bewildering gift of speech. Honor was wondering now whether, by a supreme concentration of will, she could possibly infuse some measure of the soldier spirit into TheoDesmond's wife; and the extravagant idea impelled her to a suddendecision. 

She drew Evelyn nearer. 

"Listen to me, darling, " she said. "We have _got_ to pull Theo throughthis between us, you and I; and you always say I can help you to dodifficult things. Very well. I am quite determined that you _shall_ bea brave wife to him, for the next two weeks at least. And when I makeup my mind about a thing, it is as good as done, isn't it?"

She spoke very low, and her eyes had a misty softness. But behind thesoftness lay an invincible assurance, which Evelyn felt without beingable to analyse or understand. 

"I don't know how you are going to manage it, Honor, " she murmured. "But I believe you could make _any_body do _any_thing--especially me!"

Honor's eyes twinkled at the incoherent compliment. The visionarymoment had passed, and she was her practical self again, the richer bya fixed resolve. 

"At that rate we shall work wonders, " she said cheerfully; "and Ipromise not to make you do anything alarming. You shall begin bytaking Theo's breakfast to him at once. "

 * * * * *

The ill news brought Frank Olliver round later in the morning. She didnot stay long; and the look in her eyes as she parted from Paul in theverandah touched him to the heart. 

"You'll send me word how he goes on, won't you?" she said. "I'll notbe coming round much meself. There's plenty of you to look after him, and you'll not be needing any help from me. 'Tis the first time Icould say so with truth, " she added, smiling through moist lashes. "An', no doubt, 'tis a wholesome set-down for me self-conceit!"

"I don't believe you can say it with truth yet, " Paul answeredpromptly. "I shall get a chance to talk things over with Honor thismorning, and you shall hear the result. May I invite myself to tea, please?"

"Ah, God bless you, Major Wyndham!" she exclaimed, with something ofher natural heartiness. "It's a pity there's not more o' your sort inthe world. "

A compliment, even from Mrs Olliver, invariably struck Paul dumb; andbefore any answer occurred to him she had cantered away. 

The first time he could secure a few minutes alone with Honor he putin an urgent plea for Mrs Olliver's services, and had the satisfactionof going round to her bungalow at tea-time, armed with a specialrequest from the girl herself. 

Evelyn accepted, with a slight lift of her brows, Honor's announcementthat Mrs Olliver would be only too glad to help in nursing Theo. Theseodd people, who seemed to enjoy long nights of watching, the uncannymutterings of delirium, and the incessant doling out of food andmedicine, puzzled her beyond measure. She had a hazy idea that sheought to enjoy it in the same way, and a very clear knowledge that shedid no such thing. She regarded it as a sort of penance, imposed byHonor, not altogether unfairly. She had just conscience enough torecognise that. And as the hushed monotone of nights and days draggedby, with little relief from the dead weight of anxiety, it did indeedseem as if Honor had succeeded in willing a portion of her bravespirit into her friend. What had passed in secret between God and herown soul resulted in a breaking down of the bounds of self--anunconscious spiritual bestowal of the best that was in her, with thatsplendid lack of economy in giving which is the hall-mark of a greatnature. And Evelyn took colour from the new atmosphere enveloping herwith the curious readiness of her type. 

Desmond himself, in moments of wakefulness, or passing freedom fromdelirium, was surprised and profoundly moved to find his wifeconstantly in attendance on him. At the time he was too ill to expresshis appreciation. But a vision of her dwelt continually in his mind;and the frequency of her name on his lips brought tears of realself-reproach to her eyes as she sat alone with him through the dreadsmall hours, not daring to glance into the darkest corners or to stirunless necessity compelled her; overpowered by those vague terrorsthat evaporate like mist in the cold light of definition. 

In this fashion an interminable week slipped past, bringing thepatient to that critical "corner" with which too many of us arefamiliar. Neither Paul nor Mackay left the study for twenty-fourhours; while the women sat with folded hands and waited--a morearduous task than it sounds. 

With the coming of morning, and of the first hopeful word from thesick-room, an audible sigh of relief seemed to pass through the houseand compound. It was as if they had all been holding their breath tillthe worst was over. It became possible at last to achieve smiles thatwere not mere dutiful distortions of the lips. James Mackay grew onedegree less irritable; Wyndham one degree less monosyllabic; AmarSingh condescended to arise and resume his neglected duties; whileRob--becoming aware, in his own fashion, of a stir in the air--emergedfrom his basket, and shook himself with such energy and thoroughnessthat Mackay whisked him unceremoniously into the hall, where he satnursing his injured dignity, quietly determined to slip back, on thefirst chance, into the room that was his by right, though temporarilyin the hands of the enemy. 

It was some five days later that Desmond, waking towards morning, found his wife standing beside him in expectant watchfulness. 

The low camp-bed lent her a fictitious air of height, as did also theunbroken line of her blue dressing-gown, with its cloud of mistywhiteness at the throat. A shaded lamp in a far corner clashed withthe first glimmer of dawn; and in the dimness Evelyn's face showedpale and indistinct, save for two dusky semicircles where her lashesrested on her cheek. Desmond saw all this, because at night the shadewas discarded, though the rakish bandage still eclipsed his right eye. He lay lapped in a pleasant sense of the unreality of outward things, and his wife--dimly seen and motionless--had the air of a dream-figurein a dream. 

Suddenly she leaned down, and caressed his damp hair with a familiarlightness of touch. 

"I heard you move, darling, " she whispered. "I've been sitting such along, long while alone; and I badly wanted you to wake up. "

"Such a brave Ladybird!" he said, imprisoning her fingers. "You seemto be on duty all the time. They haven't been letting you do too much, have they?"

"Oh no; I'm not clever enough to do much, " she answered, a littlewistfully. "It is Honor who really does everything. "

Desmond frowned. Mention of Honor effectually dispelled the dream. "Ichoose to believe that everything _isn't_ her doing, " he said withunnecessary emphasis. 

But for once Evelyn was disposed to extol Honor at her own expense. She had been lifted, for the time being, higher than she knew. 

"It _is_, Theo--truly, " she persisted, perching lightly on the edge ofthe bed, though she had been reminded half a dozen times that the"patient's" bed must not be treated as a chair. "I don't know anythingabout nursing people. Honor just told me that I was going to do itbeautifully, that I wasn't really frightened or stupid at all; andsomehow, she has made it all come true. She's been ever so kind andpatient; and I'm not half so nervous now when I'm left alone allnight. She writes out every little thing I have to do, and sits upherself in her own room. She's sitting there now, reading or writing, so I can go to her any minute if I really want help. She knows itcomforts me to feel there's some one else awake; and she does her ownnights of nursing just the same. I often wonder how she stands itall. "

Desmond drew in his breath with a sharp sound. The infinitely muchthat he owed to this girl, at every turn, threatened to become atorment beyond endurance. 

Evelyn caught the sound and misunderstood it. 

"There now, I'm tiring you, talking too much. I'm sure you ought to behaving something or another, even though you are better. "

She consulted her paper; and returning with the medicine-glass halffilled, held it to his lips, raising his head with one hand. But atthe first sip he jerked it back abruptly. 

"Tastes queer. Are you sure it's the right stuff?"

"Yes. Of course. "

"Better look and see. "

She took up the bottle, and examined it close to the light. There wasan ominous silence. 

"Well?" he asked in pure amusement. 

"It--it was the--lotion for your eyes!"

The last words came out in a desperate rush, and there was tragedy inher tone. But Desmond laughed as he had not laughed since his partingwith the Boy. 

"Come on, then, and square the account by doctoring my eyes with themedicine. "

"Oh, Theo, don't! It isn't a joke!"

"It is, if I choose to take it so, you dear, foolish little woman!"

She handed him the refilled glass; then, to his surprise, collapsedbeside the bed and burst into tears. 

"Ladybird, what nonsense!" he rebuked her gently, laying a hand on herhead. 

"It's not nonsense. It's horrible to be useless and--idiotic, howeverhard you try. It might easily have been--poison, and I mighthave--killed you!"

"_Only_ it wasn't--_and_ you didn't!" he retorted, smiling. "You'reupset, and worn out from want of sleep; that's all. "

She made a determined effort to swallow down her sobs, and kneltupright with clasped hands. 

"No, Theo, I'm not worn out; I'm simply stupid. And you're the kindestman that ever lived. But I mustn't cry any more, or you'll get illagain, and then Honor will be really angry!"

"Oh, shut up about Honor!" he broke out irritably; and set his teethdirectly the words were spoken. 

Evelyn started. "I won't shut up about Honor! I love her, and you'revery ungrateful not to love her too, when she's been so good to you. "

She spoke almost angrily, and he made haste to rectify his slip. 

"No. I'm not ungrateful. I--love her right enough. "

He thought the statement would have choked him. But Evelyn noticednothing, and for a while neither spoke. 

"Look here, Ladybird, " he said suddenly, "I can't have you callingyourself names as you did just now. You only get these notions intoyour small head because I have condemned you to a life that makesdemands on you beyond your strength. I ought to have seen from thestart that it was a case of choosing between the Frontier and you. Atall events, I see it clearly now; and--it's not too late. One canalways exchange into a down-country regiment, you know. Or I haveinterest enough to get a Staff appointment somewhere--Simla, perhaps. How would that suit you?"

The suggestion took away her breath. 

"You don't _mean_ that, Theo--seriously?" she gasped; and therepressed eagerness in her tone sounded the death-knell of his dearestambitions. 

"I was never more serious in my life, " he answered steadily. 

"You would leave the Frontier--the regiment--and never come back?"

"You have only to say the word, and as soon as I am on my feet againI'll see what can be done. "

But the word was not forthcoming; and in her changed position he couldsee nothing of her face but its oval outline of cheek and chin. Hewaited; holding his breath. Then, at last, she spoke. 

"No, Theo. It wouldn't be fair. You belong to the Frontier. Every onesays so. And--I shall get used to it in time. "

She spoke mechanically, without turning her head; and Desmond's armwent round her on the instant. 

"But you haven't got to think of me, " he urged. "I want to do whatwill make you happy. That's all. "

"It--it wouldn't make me happy. And, please, don't talk about it anymore. "

At that he drew her down to him. 

"God bless you, my darling!" he whispered. But even in speaking heknew that he could not accept her sacrifice; that her courage--barelyequal to the verbal renunciation--would be crushed to powder in thecrucible of days and years. For the moment, however, it seemed best todrop the subject, since nothing definite could be done without Honor'sconsent. 

"Now I ought to be attending to my business!" she said, freeingherself with a little nervous laugh. "It's getting too light. I mustput out the lamp and dress you up in your shade again, you poor, patient Theo. Then we'll have _chota hazri_ together. "

She moved away from him quickly, and not quite steadily. She had letslip her one chance of escape, and she did not know why she had doneit. The impulse to refuse had been unreasoning, overpowering; and nowit was all over she only knew that she had done what Honor wouldapprove, and what she herself would regret to the end of her life. Howfar the girl whose soul had been concentrated on Evelyn's upliftingwas responsible for her flash of self-sacrifice, is a problem thatmust be left for psychologists to solve. 

Desmond had only one thought in his brain that morning--"How in theworld am I going to tackle Honor?" He foresaw a pitched battle, endingin possible defeat; and decided to defer it till he felt morephysically fit for the strain. For he possessed the rapid recuperativepower of his type; and, the fever once conquered, each day added acubit to his returning vigour. 

One night, towards the close of the second week of his illness, heawoke suddenly from dreamless sleep to alert wakefulness, a sense ofrenewed health and power thrilling through his veins. He passed a handacross his forehead and eyes, for the pure pleasure of realising theirfreedom from the disfiguring bandage, and glanced toward thewriting-table, whence the too familiar screened lamp flung ghostlylights and shadows up among the bare rafters twenty feet above. 

It was Honor who sat beside it now, in a loose white wrapper, her headresting on her hand, an open book before her. The light fell full uponher profile, emphasising its nobility of outline--the short straightnose, the exquisite moulding of mouth and chin; while all about hershoulders fell the burnished mantle of her hair. 

For many moments Desmond lay very still. This amazing girl, in thefulness of her beauty, and in her superb unconsciousness of its effectupon himself, had him at a disadvantage; and he knew it. Thedisadvantage was only increased by waiting and watching; and at lasthe spoke, scarcely above his breath. 

"Honor--I am awake. "

She started, and instinctively her hand went to her hair, gathering itdeftly together. But he made haste to interpose. 

"Please leave it alone!"

His tone had in it more of fervour than he knew, and she dropped theheavy mass hastily, thankful to screen her face from view. Then, because silence had in it an element of danger, she forced herself tobreak it. 

"You were sleeping so soundly that I thought you were safe not to waketill morning; and it was a relief to let it down. "

"Why apologise?" he asked, smiling. "What is it you are reading? Won'tyou share it with me? I feel hopelessly wide-awake. "

"It would be delightful to read to you again, " she said simply. "Butyou might prefer something lighter. I was reading--a sermon. "

"I have no prejudice against sermons. We get few enough up here. What's your subject?"

"The Responsibility of Strength. "

"Ah!--" There was pain in the low sound. "_You_ must know a good dealabout that form of responsibility, --you who are so superbly strong. "And again she was grateful for her sheltering veil of hair. "The textis from Romans, I suppose?"

"Yes. 'We then that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of theweak. '"

"It's a heavy penalty, " he mused. "But one is bound to pay it to theuttermost farthing. Isn't that so?"

"Yes, --to the uttermost farthing. "

She was thinking of herself, and his answer amazed her. 

"Then, let me off that promise I gave you last April. It was a fatalmistake, and it's not fair on Ladybird. "

She stifled an exclamation of dismay. It had been one thing to pleadwith him a year ago; but now it seemed impossible to speak a dozenwords on the subject without risk of self-betrayal. 

Her silence pricked Desmond to impatience. 

"Well, " he said, "what's the difficulty? You'll do what I ask, ofcourse?"

"No, I can't. It is out of the question. "

A suppressed sound of vexation reached her. 

"I thought you cared more for Evelyn than that amounts to, " he saidreproachfully. 

"I _do_ care for her. You know I do. "

"Yet you intend to hold out against me?"

"Yes. "

"In spite of all it may involve--for Ladybird?"

"Yes. "

The brief finality of her answers was curiously discouraging, and forthe moment Desmond could think of nothing more to say. 

He closed his eyes to concentrate thought and shut out the distractingvision of her bowed head. When he opened them again she was standingclose to him--a white commanding figure, in a dusky cloak of hairreaching almost to her knees. 

"Theo, " she said softly, with an eloquent gesture of appeal, "youdon't know how it hurts me to seem hard and unfeeling about Ladybird, when I understand so much too well the spirit that is prompting you todo this thing. I frankly confess you are right from your point ofview. But there remains my point of view; and so long as I have theright to prevent it, you shall not spoil your life and hers. "

Desmond would have been more, or less, than man if he could have heardher unmoved; and as he lay looking up at her he was tempted beyondmeasure to take possession of those appealing hands, to draw her downto him, and thank her from his heart for her brave words. But hemerely shifted uneasily. 

"I don't quite understand you, Honor, " he said slowly. "It is strangethat you should--care so much about what I do with my life. "

The words startled her, yet she met them without flinching. 

"Is it? I think it would be far more strange if I had lived with youfor a year without learning--to care. That is why I can never say'Yes' to your request. "

"And I am determined that you shall say 'Yes' to it in the end. "

The note of immobility in his low voice made her feel powerless toresist him; but she steeled herself against the sensation by mainforce of will. 

"At least I can forbid any further mention of it till you are fitterto cope with such a disturbing subject. Are you aware that it's onlytwo o'clock? And you need sleep more than anything else just now. I'llgive you some beef-jelly, and sit in my own room for an hour, or Ibelieve you will never go off again at all. "

But when she returned at the end of an hour she found him still awake. 

"Honor, "--he began; but she checked him with smiling decision. "Notanother word to-night, Theo, or I must go altogether. "

The threat was more compelling than she knew; and sitting down by thetable, she took up her vigil as before. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

SHE SHALL UNDERSTAND. 

 "The light of every soul burns upward; but we are all candles in a wind; and due allowance must be made for atmospheric disturbances. " --GEO. MEREDITH. 

Certain souls, like certain bodies, cannot breathe for long at astretch the rarefied atmosphere of the heights; and towards the end ofthe second week Evelyn's zeal began to wear thin. Dr Mackay had atlast spoken hopefully as to the fate of Desmond's eyes. Night-nursingwas no longer a necessity; and with the relief from anxiety, from theeffort to meet the demands upon her small stock of strength, came theinevitable drop to the comfortable commonplaces of everyday life. 

Nor was she alone in her sensations. In varying degrees they affectedevery inmate of the blue bungalow during that last week of Desmond'simprisonment; and it is probable that Honor unconsciously relaxed hermental concentration upon Evelyn which had been responsible for morethan either knew. Her midnight talk with Desmond, and the knowledgethat a second contest lay before her, gave her food for much troubledreflection; while the comparative lightness of sick-room duties lefther free to grapple with arrears of letters, work, and householdaccounts. Thus, being only human, and very much absorbed in matterspractical, she made the fatal mistake of relaxing her vigilance at thevery moment when Evelyn needed it most. But it is written that "no manmay redeem his brother"; and, soon or late the relapse must have come. Honor could not hope to lay permanent hold upon the volatile spirit ofher friend. 

Desmond himself, whose patience under the burden of illness and of anerve-shattering fear had amazed even those who knew him best, wasapproaching the irritable stage of convalescence, --the strong man'srebellion against Nature's unhurried methods; against enforcedrestriction and imprisonment, when renewed life is pulsing throughevery artery, renewed vigour stirring the reawakened brain. 

Nor were matters enlivened by Mackay's decree that, if risk were to beavoided, the detested shade must be worn for three full weeks or amonth. Thus to imprisonment was added the gall and wormwood of totaldependence upon others; the unthinkable prospect of parting with Paul, with the Border itself--with everything that had hitherto made lifeworth living; and, worse than all, the undercurrent of striving toignore that veiled danger, which he refused to name, even in histhoughts, and which lay like a millstone upon his heart. 

Thus there were inevitable moments when his spirit kicked against thepricks; when his return to life and health seemed a parody of ablessing, a husk emptied of the life-giving grain. In these moodsEvelyn found herself powerless to cope with him; and was not a littleaggrieved when she discovered that his unvarying need, on black days, was the companionship of Paul Wyndham, whose insight detected somehidden trouble, and who, as a matter of course, devoted every sparemoment to his friend. 

One thing Desmond missed beyond all else--the sound of music in thehouse. Since the terrible evening of his home-coming, the piano hadnot been opened; and his recent experience of the effect Honor's musiccould produce on him made him chary of asking her to play. 

He saw very little of her in these days. Now and then she would comeand read to him; but their former open-hearted intercourse seemedirrevocably a thing of the past. With the return of the troops, however, interests multiplied. Desmond's hold on the hearts of all whoknew him had seldom been so practically proven; and the man was movedbeyond measure at that which he could not fail to perceive. His smallstudy was rarely empty, and often overcrowded with men--Sikhs, Gunners, Sappers, and, above all, his own brother officers, whofilled the place with tobacco-smoke, the cheerful clink of ice againstlong tumblers, and frequent explosions of deep-chested laughter; whileDesmond threw himself whole-heartedly into the good minute and enjoyedit to the full. 

To Evelyn this new state of things was a little disconcerting. DuringTheo's illness she, as his wife, had enjoyed special attention andconsideration; and since her incomprehensible refusal of his offer tothrow up the Frontier, had even regarded herself as something of aheroine, if an unwilling one. Now, all of a sudden, she felt deserted, unimportant, and more or less "out of it all. " The past fortnightseemed an uplifted dream, from which she had awakened to find herselfsitting among the dust and stones of prose and hard facts. Yet shecould not complain definitely of anything or any one. Honor and Theowere kind and tender, as always; but the one was temporarily busy, andthe other very naturally enjoying a reversion to masculine society. Nobody seemed to want her. There seemed no particular use for her anymore. 

To make matters worse, the whole station wore a subdued air. The Clubcompound was practically deserted; and Evelyn's first outing in thatdirection left her with no desire to repeat the experiment for thepresent. The Sikhs had lost a popular captain; while a Gunnersubaltern, who had returned seriously wounded, was being nursed by MrsConolly and the only woman in the battery. 

This sort of thing was, as Theo had said, "part and parcel" of life onthe Frontier; it was to this that she had condemned herself for thenext twenty years at least; by which time she supposed she would befar too old to care for the frivolities of life at all! If only Theowould be generous and give her a second chance, she would not let itslip this time--she would not indeed!

Altogether the aspect of things in general was sufficientlydepressing. Then one afternoon she met Owen Kresney; and all at oncelife seemed to take on a new complexion. Here, at least, was some onewho wanted her, when every one else seemed only to want Theo; some onewho was really glad to see her--rather too emphatically glad, perhaps; but the eagerness of his greeting flattered her, and she hadoverlooked the rest. She had been returning in her jhampan from hermelancholy outing to the Club, when he had caught sight of her in thedistance, and cantering up to her side, had dismounted, and shakenhands as though they had not met for a year. 

"How awfully white and pulled down you look!" he had said withlow-toned sympathy. "They must have been working you too hard. Theyforget that you are not a strapping woman like Miss Meredith. "

"No one has worked me too hard, " she answered, flushing at the veiledimplication against her husband. "I wanted to do as much as theothers. "

"Of course you did. But you are too delicate to work like that, and itisn't fair to take advantage of your unselfishness. I hope you'regoing off to the Hills very soon, now that Desmond is better?"

"Yes, I hope so too. "

Her voice had an unconscious weariness, and he bent a little closer, scanning her face with a concern that bordered on tenderness. "We havethought of you a great deal these two weeks, Mrs Desmond, " he said. "We hardly cared to go out to tennis, or anything, while you were insuch trouble. But now it has all come out right, you must bedreadfully in want of cheering up. Won't you come home with me andhave a talk, like old times? Linda would be awfully pleased to see youagain. "

The temptation was irresistible. It emphasised her vague sense ofloneliness, of being left out in the cold. The longing to be comfortedand made much of was strong upon her. 

"It is very nice of you to want me, " she had said, as simply as achild. To which he had replied with prompt, if somewhat cheap, gallantry that no one could possibly help wanting her; and his rewardhad been a flush, as delicate in tint as the inner surface of a shell. This man had one strong point in his favour--he invariably talked toher about herself; a trick Desmond had never learnt, nor ever would. 

She had spent more than an hour in Miss Kresney's stuffy, dustydrawing-room, and had left it with a pleasantly revived sense of herown importance; had left Kresney himself in a state of carefullyrepressed triumph; for she had promised him an early morning ride intwo days' time. 

It was all harmless enough so far as she was concerned--merely a caseof flattered vanity and idle hands. But the strong nature, the largepurpose, lies eternally at the mercy of life's little things. 

She said nothing to Honor or Theo of her meeting with Kresney, or ofthe coming ride. A fortnight of submission to the former had evoked apassing gleam of independence. They would probably make a fuss; andsince they neither of them needed her, she was surely at liberty toamuse herself as she pleased. 

On her return a buzz of deep voices greeted her from the study, and ittranspired that Honor had gone over to Mrs Conolly's. Thus she hadleisure before dinner to argue the matter out in her mind to her owncomplete justification. If Mr Kresney chose to be polite to her, whyshould she rebuff him and hurt his feelings, just because Theo hadsome stupid prejudice against him? On the other hand, where was theuse of vexing Theo, when every one was doing their best to shield himfrom needless irritation? As soon as his eyes were right they would goto the Hills together. She would have him all to herself; and Kresneysank into immediate insignificance at the thought. 

Meanwhile the man's assiduity and thinly veiled admiration formed awelcome relief in a desert of dulness. Besides, one was bound to bepleasant to a man when one practically owed him two hundred rupees. 

Unwittingly she shelved the fact that Kresney was beginning toexercise a disturbing fascination over her; that the insistenceunderlying his humility alternately pleased and frightened her; thelurking fear of what he might say next gave a distinct flavour ofexcitement to their every meeting. 

The slippery path that lies between truth and direct falsehood hadalways been fatally easy for her to follow; and she followed it nowmore from natural instinct, and from the child's dread of makingpeople "cross, " than from any deliberate intent to deceive. It was somuch easier to say nothing. Therefore she said nothing; and left thefuture to look after itself. 

On returning from her first ride with Kresney, she found Honor in theverandah giving orders to a sais. The girl lifted her out of thesaddle, and kissed her on both cheeks. 

"Such a very early Ladybird!" she said, laughing. "You might have letme come too. "

Accordingly they went out together the next morning, but on futureoccasions Evelyn returned more cautiously, and changed her habitbefore appearing at the breakfast-table. She went out once or twice inthe afternoons also, and Honor's thoughts flew to the Kresneys as amatter of course; but remembering a certain incident at Murree, sheheld her peace. She was disheartened, and very far from satisfied, nevertheless. 

 * * * * *

In this fashion ten days slipped uneventfully past. Then, on a certainafternoon, Kresney again met Evelyn by chance, --and begged her to comeback with him to tea before going home. Her consent was a foregoneconclusion; and as they neared Kresney's whitewashed gate-posts, Captain Olliver trotted past. He had already met Miss Kresney joggingout to tea on a long-tailed pony of uncertain age; and glancingcasually back over his shoulder, he saw Mrs Desmond's jhampan enteringthe gateway. Whereat he swore vigorously under his breath, and urgedhis pony to a brisker pace. 

But of these facts Evelyn was blissfully unaware. Her uppermostthought was a happy consciousness of looking her best. From theforget-me-nots in her hat to the last frill of her India muslin gownall was blue--the fragile blue of the far horizon at dawn. And Kresneyhad an eye for such things. 

She started slightly on discovering that the drawing-room was empty. 

"Where's Miss Kresney?" she asked, stopping dead upon the threshold. 

"Why, what a fool I am!" the man exclaimed with a creditable air offrankness. "I clean forgot she had gone out to tea. But you're notgoing to desert me on that account! You wouldn't be so unkind!"

Evelyn felt herself trapped. It would seem foolish and pointed to go;yet she had sense enough to know that it would be very unwise to stay. She compromised matters by saying sweetly that she would come in justfor ten minutes, to have a cup of tea before going back in the sun. 

Kresney looked his gratification--looked it so eloquently that shelowered her eyes, and went forwards hurriedly, as if fearing thatsomething more definite might follow the look. 

But the man, though inwardly exultant, was well on his guard. If hestartled her this first time, he could not hope to repeat theexperiment. He chose the most comfortable chair for her; insisted onan elaborate arrangement of cushions at her back; poured out her tea;and plied her assiduously with stale sponge-cake and mixed biscuits. Then drawing up his own chair very close, he settled himself to thecongenial task of amusing and flattering her, with such success thather ten minutes had stretched to an hour before she even thought ofrising to go. 

Captain Olliver, meanwhile, had ridden on to the blue bungalow, whichchanced to be his destination; and had spent half an hour in desultorytalk with Desmond, Wyndham, and the Colonel, who had fallen into ahabit of dropping in almost daily. 

As he rose to take his leave, a glance at Wyndham brought the latterout into the hall with him. 

"What is it?" he asked. "Want to speak to me about something?"

"Yes. Can we have a few words alone anywhere? It concerns Desmond, andI can't speak to him myself. "

Paul frowned. 

"Nothing serious, I hope. Come in here a minute. " And he led the wayinto his own Spartan-looking room. 

"Now let me hear it, " he said quietly. 

But Olliver balanced himself on the edge of the table, tapped his pipeagainst it, and loosened the contents scientifically with his penknifebefore complying with the request. 

"The truth is, " he began at length, "that it's about Mrs Desmond andthat confounded cad Kresney. "

"Ah!" The note of pain in Wyndham's voice made the other look at himquestioningly. 

"You've noticed it, then?"

"Well, --it was rather marked while Desmond was away. Nothing totrouble about, though, if it had been any other man than Kresney. "

Olliver brought his fist down on the table. 

"That's precisely what my wife says. You know what a lot she thinks ofDesmond; and I believe she's capable of tackling the little womanherself, which I couldn't stand at any price. That's why I promised tospeak to you to-day. Hope it doesn't seem infernal cheek on my part. "

"Not at all. Go on. "

Each instinctively avoided the other's eyes; while Olliver, in a fewcurt sentences, spoke his mind on the subject in hand. 

The bond that links the inhabitants of small isolated Indian stationsis a thing that only the Anglo-Indian can quite understand. Desmond'sillness, and the possible tragedy overhanging him, had roused suchstrong feeling in Kohat, that his wife's conduct--which at anothertime would merely have supplied material for a little mild gossip--hadawakened the general sense of indignation, more especially among themen. But men are not free of speech on these matters, and it wascertain pungent remarks made by little Mrs Riley of the Sikhs whichhad set Frank Olliver's Irish temper in a blaze. The recollection ofwhat she had seen during Desmond's absence still rankled in her mind;and her husband, with a masculine dread of an open quarrel between theonly two ladies in the Regiment, had accepted the lesser evil ofspeaking to Wyndham himself. 

"Mind, I give Mrs Desmond credit for being more passive than active inthe whole affair, " he concluded, since Paul seemed disinclined tovolunteer a remark. "But the deuce of it is, that I feel sure Desmondknows less about the thing than any one else. Can you see him puttingup with it under any circumstances?"

Wyndham shook his head; and for a while they smoked in silencethinking their own thoughts. 

"You want me, " Paul asked at length, "to pass all this on to Desmond?Is that it?"

"Yes; that's it. Unless you think he knows it already. "

"No, --frankly, I don't. But is it our business to enlighten him?"

"That's a ticklish question. But I'm inclined to think it is. We can'tbe expected to stand a bounder like Kresney hanging round one of ourladies. Why, I met him as I came here, taking her into his bungalow;and I had only just passed the sister on that old patriarch she rides. I call that going a bit too far; and I fancy Desmond would agree withme. "

Wyndham looked up decisively. 

"I wouldn't repeat _that_ to him, if my life depended on it. "

"No, no. Of course not. You can make things clear without saying toomuch. Beastly unpleasant job, and I'm sorry to be forcing it on you. But you must know that you're the only chap in the Regiment who coulddream of speaking two words to Desmond on such a delicate subject. "

Paul acknowledged the statement with a wry smile under his moustache. 

"I doubt if he will stand it, even from me; and I'd a deal soonerwring Kresney's neck. But I'll do the best I can, and take my chanceof the consequences to myself. "

Thus reassured, Olliver departed, and Wyndham, watching him go, wondered what he intended to say. 

There are few things more distasteful to a well-bred man than thenecessity of speaking to a friend, however intimate, on the subject ofhis wife's conduct or character; because there are few things a manrespects more intimately than his fellow-man's reserve. Wyndham knew, moreover, that the real sting of his communication would lie less inthe facts themselves than in Mrs Desmond's probable concealment ofthem; and his natural kindliness prompted him to a passing pity forEvelyn, who, in all likelihood, had not yet penetrated beyond theouter shell of her husband's strongly marked character. 

The only means of tempering the wind to the shorn lamb lay in speakingfirst to Honor; and on that idea Wyndham unconditionally turned hisback. Mrs Desmond had brought this thing upon herself. She must facethe consequences as best she might. 

But on entering the study, the words he had come to say were checkedupon his lips. 

Desmond stood beside the writing-table, where the green shade laydiscarded; and a noticeable scar on his right cheek was all that nowremained of the wound which had threatened such serious results. Hiswhole attention was centred upon Rob, who pranced at his feet withungainly caperings, flinging dignity to the winds, and testifying, with heart and voice and eloquent tail, to the joy that was in him. 

Paul's sensitive soul revolted from the necessity of imparting illnews at such a moment; and it was Desmond who spoke first. 

"Mackay's been here this minute making a final examination of my eyes. Gave me leave, thank God, to discard _that_ abomination; and Robhasn't left off congratulating me since I flung it on the table. Thelittle beggar seems to understand what's happened just as well as Ido. " He turned on Wyndham with a short satisfied laugh. "By Jove, Paul, it's thundering good to look _you_ squarely in the face again!But why, --what's the trouble, old man? Have you heard bad news?"

"Not very bad, but certainly--unpleasant. "

"And you came to tell me?"

"Yes, I came to tell you. "

Desmond motioned him to a chair; and, as he seated himself withunhurried deliberation, laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. 

"What is it?" he asked. "The Regiment or yourself?"

"Neither. "

"Well, then----?"

"It concerns _you_, my dear Theo, " Paul answered slowly. "And it isabout--your wife. "

Desmond frowned sharply, and Wyndham saw the defensive look springinto his eyes. 

"Do you mean----? Has there been an accident?"

"No--no; nothing of that sort. I'm sorry to have been so clumsy. "

"She is quite safe? Nothing wrong with her?"

"Nothing whatever. "

Desmond's mouth took an expression Wyndham knew well. An enemy mighthave called it pig-headed. 

"At that rate, there can be no more to say about her. "

And he went leisurely over to the mantelpiece, where he remained, leaning on one elbow, his back towards his companion. Paul saw plainlythat he was ill at ease, and cursed the contingency which compelledhim to further speech. 

"Forgive me if I seem intrusive, Theo, " he began, "but I am afraidthere is more to be said. This afternoon Olliver spoke to me----"

Desmond swung round again, with blazing eyes. 

"What the hell has Olliver got to do with _my wife_? I have neverinterfered with his. "

Paul Wyndham looked very steadily into the disturbed face of hisfriend. Then he brought his hand down on the green baize of the tablebefore him. 

"Theo--my dear fellow, " he said, "it is hard enough for me, in anycase, to say what I must. Is it quite generous of you to make itharder?"

The fire died slowly out of Desmond's eyes, giving place to a look ofstubborn resignation. 

"Forgive me, Paul. Sorry I lost my temper. Let me have the bare facts, please. Though I probably know them already. "

And he returned to his former attitude, the fingers of his left handcaressing mechanically the stem of a tall vase. 

His last remark made Paul watch him anxiously. He was wonderingwhether Theo's determination to shield his wife would possibly goadhim into a direct lie; and he devoutly hoped not. 

"Well, " he began at length, "Olliver spoke to me because there seemsto be rather a strong feeling in the Regiment about Mrs Desmondand--Kresney being so constantly together again just now----"

The vase Desmond was handling fell with a crash on the concretehearth, and the blood spurted from a surface cut on his finger. Butbeyond thrusting the scarred hand into his coat pocket, he made nomovement. 

"Go on, " he said doggedly; and Paul obediently went on, addressing hisunresponsive back and shoulders. 

"You see, it was rather--noticeable while you were away. Perhaps thefact that we all dislike Kresney made it more so; and it naturallystrikes one as very bad taste on his part to be forcing himself onyour wife at a time like this. It seems there was some slight talk atthe Club too--not worth noticing, of course. But you know Mrs Ollivertakes fire easily, where any of us are concerned; and Olliver seemedafraid she might speak to Mrs Desmond, unless I came to you. He metthem again this afternoon; and he felt you ought at least to knowexactly how matters stand----"

"He might have taken it for granted that I should do that without_his_ interference. "

Desmond's temper was flaring up again; and his words brought theanxious look back to Paul's eyes. Theo was sailing very near the wind. 

"We all know you too well to believe that you would--tolerate such astate of things--_if_ you were aware of them, " he answered slowly, choosing his words with care. "Please understand, Theo, that it isKresney who is criticised; and that Olliver put the whole thing beforeme as nicely as possible. I feel I have been clumsy enough myself. Butit goes against the grain to say anything at all, you understand?"

Desmond's sole answer was a decisive nod of the head. Then silencefell--a strained silence, difficult to break. Yet it was he himselfwho broke it. 

"I can do no less than thank you, " he said stiffly. "It was a hatefulthing to have thrust upon you; but Frank's intrusion would have beenunendurable. The truth is--" he paused, for the words were hard tobring out--"I have known--all along that my wife was more friendlywith--these Kresneys than I quite cared about. One could make no validobjections without seeming uncharitable, and she is still too new hereto understand our point of view. But I must see to it now that she_shall_ understand, once and for all. It is intolerable to have one'sbrother officers--making remarks, even with the best intentions. Willyou ask Honor to tell my wife, when she comes in, that I want to seeher?"

Silence again; and Paul rose to his feet. It hurt him to leave hisfriend without a word. But the attitude Desmond had adopted precludedthe lightest touch of sympathy, and Wyndham could not choose butadmire him the more. 

"By the way"--Desmond turned upon him as he went with startlingabruptness--"_Honor_ isn't in any way mixed up with all this, is she?"

Something in his look and tone made Wyndham glance at him intentlybefore replying. "Of course she saw how things were while you wereaway. But she has been out very little lately; and as far as I canjudge, she knows nothing about the talk that is going on now. "

"Thank Heaven!" Desmond muttered into his moustache; but Paul's earfailed to catch the words. 

"Won't you have a 'peg' or a cup of tea, Theo?" he asked gently. 

"No, thanks. "

"I think you ought to have one or the other. "

"Very well, whichever you please. Only, bring it yourself, there's agood chap. "

Paul's eyes rested thoughtfully upon his friend, who, absorbed in hisown reflections, seemed to have forgotten his presence. Then he wentslowly away, revolving the matter in his mind. 

While avoiding the least shadow of false statement, Desmond hadsucceeded in shielding his wife from the one serious implicationsuggested by her conduct, or at least would have so succeeded, but forthe tell-tale crash of glass upon the hearth-stone. Yet the most vividimpression left on Paul by their short interview was the look inTheo's eyes when he had asked that one abrupt question about HonorMeredith. 

Was it possible----? Was it even remotely possible----?

Wyndham reined in the involuntary thought, as a man reins in his horseon the brink of a precipice. Common loyalty to the friend he loved, with the unspoken love of half a lifetime, forbade him to look thatshrouded possibility frankly in the face. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE LOSS OF ALL. 

 "The loss of all love has to give, Save pardon for love wronged. " --O. MEREDITH. 

"Here I am, Theo. Honor says you want to see me. "

Evelyn Desmond closed the door behind her; and at sight of her husbandtransformed into his very self--freed at last from all disfigurements--sheran to him with outstretched arms. 

"Theo, are you really all right again? I can hardly believe it. "

But Desmond had no answer to give her. He simply squared his rightarm, warding off her hands. 

Then she saw the hard lines of his mouth, the inexpressible pain inhis eyes; and, clutching at his rigid forearm, tried to force it down. She might as well have tried to shift a bar of iron. 

"What's the matter with you now?" she asked, half petulant, halffearful. "Has anything else gone wrong? Haven't we had enough miseryand depression----?"

"There's no more call for acting, Evelyn, " Desmond interposed with anominous quietness more disconcerting than anger--"Doesn't your ownconscience tell you what may have gone wrong?"

At that the colour left her face. "You mean--is it about--me?" sheasked with shaking lips. 

"Yes. About you. " Her pitiful aspect softened him; he took her arm andset her gently down upon a chair;--the selfsame chair that Paul hadoccupied half an hour ago. "Don't be frightened, " he said gently; "Iwon't hurt you more than I must. Ever since we married I have done myutmost to help you, spare you, shield you; but now--we've got toarrive at a clear understanding, once for all. First I want you toanswer a question or two, straightly, without prevarication. You wentout early, it seems. Where?"

"To Mrs Riley's----"

"And after?"

"I met Mr Kresney--quite by chance. He wanted me to come in to tea. Hesaid Miss Kresney would soon be home--and I--I----"

"No need for polite fabrications;" he took her up quickly. "You wentin. Miss Kresney did _not_ come home. Is this the first time he hastrapped you with a convenient lie? Tell me that. "

Words and tone roused her to a passing flash of retaliation. 

"If you're going to get so angry, Theo, I won't tell you _any_thing, and I _won't_ be questioned like a creature in a witness-box! Someone's been saying horrid things of me. Major Wyndham, I suppose. Youwouldn't listen to any one else. It's very mean of him----"

Desmond took a hasty step forward. "How dare you speak so of thestraightest man living!" he cried with imperious heat. "You, who havetaken advantage of my blindness to deceive me deliberately a secondtime, on account of a cad who isn't fit to tie your shoe-strings. I'vebeen blind in more than one way lately. But that is over now. I am notlikely to repeat the mistake of trusting you implicitly--after this. "

She cowered under the lash of his just wrath, hiding her face andcrying heart-broken tears--the bitterest she had yet shed. Insnatching at the shadow it seemed she had lost the substance pastrecall. 

"Oh! You are cruel--horrible!" she wailed, with her disarming, pathetic air of a scolded child that made a rough word to her seemcowardly as a blow. 

"No need to break your heart over it, " he said more gently; "and asto cruelty, Evelyn, haven't you abused my faith in your loyalty anddragged my pride in the dust by letting your name be coupled with thatman's, though I told you plainly I had good reasons for distrustingand disliking him. I suppose he made a dead set at you while I wasaway--cowardly brute! But what hits me hardest of all is not yourindiscretion; it's your persistent crookedness that poisonseverything. It was the same over your bills last year--as I told youthen. It's the same now. It's a poor look-out if a man can't trust hisown wife; but I suppose you must have lied to me--and to Honor, adozen times this last week. "

It had cost him an effort to speak so plainly and at such length; buthis wife's uneven breathing was the only answer he received. 

He came closer and laid an arm round her shoulder. 

"Evelyn--Ladybird--have you nothing to say to me?"

"N--no, " she answered in a choked voice, without uncovering her face;"it wouldn't be any use. "

"Why not? Am I so utterly devoid of understanding?"

"No--no. But you brave, strong sort of people can't ever know how hardlittle things are for--for people like me. It has been so--dulllately. You had--all those men, and--I was lonely. It was nice to havesome one--wanting me--some one not miles above my head. But I knew youwould be cross if I told you--and--and--" tears choked herutterance--"oh, it's no good talking. You'd never understand. "

"I understand this much, my dear, " he said. "You are done up with thestrain of nursing, and badly in need of a change. But we shall soonget away on leave now; and I will see to it that you shall never feeldull or out of it again. Only one thing I insist upon--your intimacywith--that man is at an end. No more riding with him; no more going tohis bungalow. From to-day you treat him and his sister as mereacquaintances. "

She faced him now with terror-stricken eyes. For while he spoke, shehad perceived the full extent of her dilemma. 

"But, Theo--there isn't any need for that, " she urged, with a thrillof fear at her own boldness. "They would think it so odd. Whatexcuses could I possibly make?"

"That's your affair, " Desmond answered unmoved. "You are a better handat it than I am. My only concern is that you shall put an end to thisequivocal state of things for good. "

At that she hid her face again, with a sob of despair. "I can't doit--I _can't_. It's impossible!" she murmured vehemently more toherself than to him. 

Her unexpected opposition fanned his smouldering wrath to a blaze. Hetook her by the shoulder--not roughly, but very decisively. 

"_Impossible!_ What am I to understand by that?"

It was the first time he had touched her untenderly; and she quiveredin every nerve. 

"I--I don't know. I can't explain. But--it's true. "

For one instant he stood speechless;--then:

"Great Heavens, Evelyn!" he broke out, "don't you see that you areforcing upon me a suspicion that is an insult to us both?"

She looked up at him in blank bewilderment, then jerked herself freefrom his hand. 

"I--I don't understand what you mean. But if you _will_ think horridthings of me you may. I can't explain and--I won't!"

"You--_won't_, " Desmond repeated slowly, frozen incredulity in hiseyes; and she, fearing she had gone too far, caught at the hand shehad shaken off. 

"Oh, Theo, what _does_ it matter after all?" she urged betweenirritation and despair, "when you know quite well it's you--that Ilove?"

The appeal was too ill-timed to be convincing; and Desmond's smile hada tinge of bitterness in it. 

"You have an uncommonly original way of showing it, " he said coldly;"and the statement doesn't square with your refusal to explainyourself. You have broken up the foundations of--things to-day, Evelyn! You have killed my trust in you altogether. You may remember, perhaps, --what that involves. " And withdrawing his hand he turned andleft her. 

But he had roused her at last by the infliction of a pain too intensefor tears. She sprang up, knocking over the chair that fell with athud on the carpet, and hurried after him, clinging to hisunresponsive arm. 

"Theo, Theo, take care what you say! Do you mean--truthfully that youdon't--love me any more?"

"God knows, " he answered wearily. "Let me alone now, for Heaven'ssake, till I can see things clearer. But I'll not alter my decisionabout Kresney, whatever your mysterious impossibilities may be. "

Freeing himself gently but deliberately, he went over to the verandahdoor and stood there, erect, motionless, his back towards her, lookingout upon the featureless huts of the servants' quarters with eyes thatsaw nothing save a vision of his wife's face, as it had shone uponhim, more than two years ago, in the Garden of Tombs. 

And it was shining upon him now--had he but guessed it, --not with thesimple tenderness of girlhood; but with the despairing half-worshippinglove of a woman. 

When he heard the door close softly behind her, he came back into theroom, mechanically righted the chair, and sitting down upon it buriedhis face in his hands. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

EVEN TO THE UTMOST. 

 "How can Love lose, doing of its kind, Even to the utmost?" --EDWIN ARNOLD. 

When Evelyn Desmond stumbled out of her husband's presence, stunned, bewildered, blinded with tears, the one coherent thought left in hermind was--Honor. Amid all that was terrifying and heart-breaking, Honor's love stood sure; a rock in mid-ocean--the one certainty thatwould never fail her, though the world went to pieces under her feet. 

But Honor was not in the drawing-room; and Evelyn knocked timidly ather door. 

"Come in, " the low voice sounded from the other side. The girl wasstanding before the looking-glass, pinning on her hat. 

"I was going across to ask after Mr Bradley, " she explained, completing the operation before looking round. But at sight ofEvelyn's face she hurried forward, holding out her arms. 

"Dearest, what _has_ happened to make you look like that?"

"Everything's happened! It's all finished between Theo and me. Brokenup. He said so--and--I'm going away. There are--other people who care. I won't stay with a man who doesn't love me--or trust me----"

But Honor, holding her closer, looked searchingly into her face. "Evelyn, that is _not true!_"

"Well, he said so. And _he_ doesn't tell lies!"

"Oh, you poor, poor child!" Honor murmured, kissing her with a strangefervour of sympathy. "But tell me--what's the reason of all this? IfTheo did say such terrible things, he must have been cruelly hurt orvery angry----"

"He was--very angry. I'm sure he won't forgive me this time; and I dobelieve it would be better all round if I went right away and left himin peace with his polo and his squadron and his precious FrontierForce----"

Honor's hand closed her lips. "My dear! Are you _quite_ mad?"

"No. But I think I will be--very soon. "

She spoke with such tragic certainty that the girl smiled in spite ofherself. "Why? What have you done? Tell me--quick!"

"Oh! It's not _me_ that's done, " Evelyn declared with her engaging airof injured innocence. "It's other people--Major Wyndham, Ibelieve--making remarks to him about me and--Mr Kresney. "

"You've been _there_ again. I was half afraid----"

"Why on earth shouldn't I? But now Theo's simply ordered me to dropthem. It's quite impossible. I--I told him so. "

"And you did not tell him why?"

"No. That would have been worse than all. "

"But you will tell _me_. You must--if I am to help you. "

Evelyn regarded her with a misty smile. "You're very wonderful, Honor. But even _you_ can't help now. You see--it's money----"

"Money? How? What?"

"Promise you won't stop loving me and be angry--like Theo was, " Evelynpleaded, the incurable child flashing out in the midst of herdistress. "I've had enough for to-day. "

"I promise, dear. Go on. "

Then the small sordid tragedy came out in broken snatches, to the lastparticle. For once in her life Evelyn Desmond spoke the unvarnishedtruth, adorning nothing, extenuating nothing; and Honour listened inan enigmatical silence--a silence which held even after the last wordhad been spoken. Evelyn looked up at her nervously. 

"Honour, you _are_ angry inside. I can see you are. "

"No, --I am not angry, " Honor answered slowly. "Where would be the use?I am simply--astounded that you could _dare_ to run such risks withthe love of a man who is one among a thousand. "

She spoke the last words with unguarded enthusiasm; not perceiving, till they were out, the intent look on Evelyn's face. 

"I knew you were friends with Theo, Honor, " she said, "but I neverthought you admired him as much--as all _that_. "

The girl caught the note of jealousy, and coloured to the roots of herhair. 

"I am not alone in my opinion, " she said with an uneasy laugh. "Thereare dozens of others who would say no less. It is only that I want youto realise your good fortune before it is too late. "

"But it _is_ too late. If he's angry now he'll be furious when heknows. And unless I go away he will _have_ to know. "

"You shall not go away. And he must never know. He has suffered enoughas it is----"

"Haven't _I_ suffered just as much? You always think of him----"

"I am thinking of you both. How much is it that you still owe theseKresneys?"

"A hundred and fifty--no, two hundred. And I can't possibly pay it formonths and months. "

By this time Honor had crossed to the chest of drawers near her bedand had taken out a small japanned cash-box. Evelyn watched hermovements with ecstatic enlightenment. 

"Honor--what _are_ you going to do?" she asked breathlessly. 

But the girl neither answered nor turned her head. She took out asmall sheaf of notes, locked the cash-box, and put it away. Thentaking an envelope from her rack, she sealed and addressed it, whileEvelyn leaned against the dressing-table, white and speechless fromthe shock of relief. 

"The whole amount is in there, " Honor said, handing her the envelope, and speaking in a repressed voice. "Luckily I had hardly touched mymonth's money. This makes you free to do as Theo wishes. I don't wanta penny of it back--ever. And Theo is never to know anything aboutthe whole transaction. Promise me that; and don't _dare_ to break yourword. "

"I promise faithfully. Oh, Honor, you are my good angel! Shall I takeit now--at once?"

"No. Not you. I must go myself. It ought to be delivered to him inperson, and I must have a stamped receipt. "

"Honor, how horrid! Just as if he were a shop! Besides--nobody but_me_ can give it--or explain----"

"How can you explain? What will you say?"

"Just whatever comes into my head. Married women understand these sortof things. I shall know what to say--at the time. "

"So will he. And then----"

"There you go!" Tears threatened again and her voice shook. "You talkabout loving me and you don't trust me any more than Theo does. If Imayn't do this my own way I won't take the money at all. "

"Don't talk nonsense, child, " Honor cried desperately, her ownself-control almost at an end. "You _must_ take it. And if you insiston running risks with your eyes open, there's no more to be saidexcept make haste and get the wretched thing done with. Go at once, inyour jhampan--and _don't_ leave it. Ask for Miss Kresney; and--shop orno shop--mind you get a proper receipt. Then come straight home andtell Theo you will do what he wishes. He will have had time to thinkthings over and it will be all right. I know it will. Perhaps youwould like me to speak of it to him, if I get the chance?"

"Yes--yes. Do, please! You dear, wonderful Honor! I don't know how tosay thank you enough----"

But Honor disengaged herself something hurriedly. The ache ofrebellion at her heart made Evelyn's effusiveness unendurable. 

"Don't thank me at all, " she said. "I don't want your thanks. Idon't--deserve them. Take care of that envelope; it is worth more thantwo hundred rupees to you--and to me. Now go!"

And taking her by the shoulders, she put her gently outside the door. Then, drawing a deep breath of relief, stood alone with therealisation of all that had passed. 

It seemed that she was not to be spared one drop of the cup ofbitterness; that to her had been assigned the task of Sisyphus, theceaseless rolling upward of a stone that as ceaselessly rolled down;the continual re-establishment of Evelyn in the shrine of herhusband's heart. And there would be no end to it, even after John'sreturn. So long as these two had need of her, heart and brain andhands would be at their service. She did not definitely think this, because true heroism is unaware of itself. "It feels, and neverreasons; and therefore is always right. "

Honor was aware of nothing just then, but the keen pang ofself-reproach. "God forgive me!" she murmured, forming the words withher lips. "I did it for _him_. "

Then she started, and the blood flew to her face. For Desmond's voice, imperious, entreating, rang clear through the quiet of the house. 

"Ladybird, where _are_ you? Come back!"

And without a thought of what she intended to say, Honor went out tothe completion of her day's work. That was her practical way oflooking at the matter. 

"It will be easy enough, " she reflected as she went. The entreaty inDesmond's voice assured her of that. 

But in the drawing-room doorway she stood still, extraordinarilystill. For Desmond himself confronted her; and she had not anticipatedthe ordeal of a face-to-face encounter. 

Involuntarily, inevitably, their eyes met, and lingered in eachother's depths. It was their first real greeting since his return; andthey felt it as such. It was the first time also that Desmond had seenher completely since his lightning-flash of self-knowledge; and in thesame instant the same thought sprang to both their minds--that, in thepast three weeks, the detested shade had served them better than theyknew. 

For a full minute it seemed as if these two, whose courage was aboveproof, did not dare risk movement or speech. But it was no more than aminute. Each was incapable of suspecting the other's hidden fear; andnow, as always, Evelyn was the foremost thought in the minds of both. 

Desmond broke the spell by one step forward. 

"I want Ladybird, " he said abruptly. "Where is she?"

"I'm sorry. She has just gone out; but she won't be long. "

Honor knew what must come next; knew also that she could neither lieto him nor tell him the truth. 

"What possessed her to go out again? Do you know where she went?"

"Yes, Theo, I do know, " she answered, coming into the room, andspeaking with a noble directness that was like a light thrown acrosstortuous ways. "It was unavoidable. I would rather not say any more. You can trust me, can't you?"

"As I trust God and my own soul, " he replied with profound conviction. "Did she seem--much upset?"

"Yes, --terribly upset. Not without reason. She told me everything. MayI speak of it, Theo? You won't think me--intrusive?"

He gave her a quick, reproachful glance. 

"_You?_ Say what you please. I was a brute to her; and I know it. ButI swear I wasn't hard on her till she refused to break with Kresney. Did she give you any sort of reason for that?"

"Yes; and I have quite cleared up the difficulty; though I'm afraidyou mustn't ask me how. "

"You seem hedged about with mysteries this evening, " he remarked, atrifle curtly. "I confess I like daylight, and straight roads. "

"Not more than I do, Theo. But you have said you can trust me; and atleast I can assure you that there was no question of personalreluctance. Whatever Evelyn's failings may be, I know that _you_ arethe one big thing in her life. "

Desmond compressed his lips, and looked down thoughtfully at thebearskin under his feet; while Honor allowed her eyes to dwell on thegoodly lines of his face. Then he squared his shoulders and looked upat her. 

"Honor--if that is true--and I think it is--you are bound to let mehelp her by the only means in my power. Give me back that promise ofmine. I am strong enough now to tackle the subject; and I warn youfairly that I mean to have my own way. So don't waste time by beatingabout the bush. "

The unexpected attack unbalanced her, and the blood left her face; butthere was no hint of yielding in her eyes. They were equally matchedthese two--strength for strength; will for will. The ultimate victorymight rest with either. 

"Theo!" she protested, "you can ask that of me--to-day?"

"Yes, precisely--to-day. My mistake--my selfishness, has been verypainfully brought home to me in the last hour; and I don't ask it ofyou--I demand it. "

Honor drew herself up to her full height. 

"You cannot command it, though, " she said quietly. "And--I refuse. "

The hot blood mounted to his temples, but he shut his teeth to keepback hasty speech. Then, as the silence grew and deepened betweenthem, anger gave place to an unbounded admiration. 

They were standing now face to face, beside the mantelpiece, exactlyas they had stood on that eventful April afternoon a year ago. Thememory came to them simultaneously; and each saw the light of itspring into the other's eyes. Honor's face softened. 

"You remember, " she urged. "I see that you remember; and the argumentsyou admitted then hold even more strongly now. Besides--you said I hadearned the right----"

"So you have--ten times over since then. But to-day I see my duty toLadybird so clearly, that no one--not even you--must stand in the wayof it. You would realise better how I feel, if you had heard herpitiful excuses. She was 'dull. ' She was 'lonely. ' I had 'all thosemen, '--so I had. She was right, poor child! Truth is, my life is sorichly filled with 'all those men, ' that I sometimes wonder if I wasjustified in bringing a woman into it at all. But having done so, I'mbound to take her where she won't be tempted to entangle herself withcads like Kresney, just because she feels dull and lonely. That's thesource of half the catastrophes one hears of in this country; and innine cases out of ten I blame the husband more than the wife. You see, I happen to believe that when a man takes a woman's life into hishands, he makes himself responsible not only for her honour, but forher happiness and well-being. I'm not setting up a standard for otherfellows, remember. I am simply stating my own by way of explanation. "

Honor's eyes shone with a very tender light. 

"I can only say that Evelyn is--a singularly fortunate woman. If mostmen held such views there would be ninety per cent fewer marriages inthe world. "

"Possibly. But that doesn't put me in the wrong. Now, I have set thepicture before you as I see it----"

"Yes, with the core of it left out, --the loss to you and to theRegiment. "

"Oh, hang it all!" Desmond protested with an embarrassed laugh. "One'sbound to leave out something. That's the whole art of making a decentpicture! But it strikes me we've had enough of argument. Whether Ihave convinced you or not, Honor, you _must_ let me off that promise. "

The girl held her breath, nerving herself for a last desperate stand. 

"Forgive me, if you know how, Theo, " she said; "but I cannot--I willnot give up my right to save you from yourself. "

Desmond simply raised his head and looked at her, as though he couldnot believe that he had heard aright; and when at last he spoke, hisvoice had the level note of authority which she had been dreading tohear. 

"At the risk of seeming brutal, Honor, I warn you that I'll not giveyou one minute's peace till you unsay those words--for Ladybird'ssake. "

Then, to his unspeakable consternation, she took a step backward andsank into the chair behind her, pressing both hands over her eyes. 

"Do whatever you think right, " she murmured brokenly. "You are toostrong for me altogether. "

There are victories more bitter than defeat; and Desmond had no wordsin which to answer this girl, who cared so strangely, so intensely, much what became of him. 

When a woman breaks down utterly in the presence of the man who lovesher--whether he dare acknowledge it or no--words are not apt to meetthe exigencies of the case; and Desmond had no other panacea at hiscommand. He could only stand looking down upon her, his hands thrustdeep into his pockets, as if he feared that they might go out to herof their own accord; his eyes darkened with such intensity of painthat it was well for both that hers were shielded from sight of them. 

He longed, beyond all things on earth, to kneel down and comfort her. He knew that three words from him would put an end to her distress, and cancel his own quixotic plan of action. But the words were notuttered; and he remained standing on the hearth-rug with his hands inhis pockets. There was no sign in the quiet room that anythingnoteworthy had taken place. Yet on those two prosaic details thefuture of three lives depended--a man silent when he might havespoken; planted squarely on his feet when he might have been on hisknees. 

Rob got up and stretched himself elaborately, vented his boredom in along musical yawn, then settled down to sleep again in a moreexpansive attitude; and Evelyn's French clock struck six with cheerfulunconcern. 

The silence, which seemed interminable, might possibly have lastedthree minutes, when Honor let fall her hands, and looked up at the manwho had mastered her. He looked what he was--unconquerable; and if shehad not loved him already, she must infallibly have loved him then. 

"Please understand, " she said, and her voice was not quite steady, "that I have not _given_ my consent to this. You have simply wrenchedit from me by the sheer force of--your personality. You have notaltered my conviction by a hair's-breadth. What you have set yourheart on is a piece of unjustifiable quixotism; and I have only onething to beg of you now. Do nothing decisive till you have spoken toPaul. "

Desmond sighed. 

"Very well. I will tackle him to-morrow. "

"What a hurry you are in!" And she smiled faintly. 

"I believe in striking while the iron's hot. "

"And I believe in giving it time to cool. May I--first, say one wordto Paul?"

"No, certainly not. " The refusal came out short and sharp. "If you twocombined forces against me I should be done for! Leave me to managePaul alone. "

With a sigh she rose to her feet. 

Then, quite suddenly, her calmness fell away from her. 

"Theo--Theo, " she protested, "if you really persist in this, and carryit through, I don't think I shall ever forgive you. "

The pain in her voice was more than he could bear. 

"For God's sake spare me that!" he pleaded. "I am losing enough as itis. "

And now his hands went out to her irresistibly, in the old impulsivefashion, that seemed an echo from a former life. 

With superlative courage she turned and surrendered both her own. Shewanted to prove herself, at all points, simply his friend; and he gaveher no cause to repent of her courage, or to suspect the strongrestraint he put upon himself during that brief contact, which, at amoment so charged with emotion, might well have proved fatal to themboth. 

"Thank you, Honor, " he said quietly. 

But for her, speech was impossible. She bowed her head, and left himstanding alone, with the dregs of victory. 

On reaching the blessed shelter of her own room she bolted the door;and for once in her life grief had its way with her unhindered. 

She could not guess, while railing against Desmond's tenacity ofpurpose, that the same passionate self-reproach which had urged her togo all lengths for Evelyn, was urging him now to a supreme act ofself-devotion to his wife's happiness. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE ONE BIG THING. 

 "The sky that noticed all makes no disclosure; And earth keeps up her terrible composure. " --BROWNING. 

His wife herself was, in the meanwhile, journeying hopefully back tothe Kresneys' bungalow, on the shoulders of four long-sufferingjhampanis, who murmured a little among themselves, without rancour orvexation, concerning the perplexing ways of Memsahibs in general. Forthe native of India the supreme riddle of creation is the English"Mem. "

They had but just cast aside their liveries and, squatting on theirheels in a patch of shadow, had embarked on leisurely preparations forthe evening hookah and the evening meal. The scent of curry was intheir nostrils; the regular "flip-flap" of the deftly turned chupattiewas in their ears; when a flying order had come from the house--"TheMemsahib goes forth in haste!" With resigned mutterings andhead-shakings they had responded to the call of duty, and the_mate_, [30] who was a philosopher, had a word of comfort for them asthey went. "Worse might have befallen, brothers, seeing that it hathpleased God to make our Memsahib light as a bird. Had it been the MissSahib, now----" A unanimous murmur testified that the Miss Sahib wouldhave been a far weightier affair!

[30] Headman. 

And on this occasion they must have found their mistress even lighterthan a bird; for instead of lying back among her cushions, she satupright, in strained anticipation, pressing between her hands themiraculous envelope which was to buy back for her all that she had solightly flung away. 

Honor had spoken truth when she said that Desmond was the one bigthing in Evelyn's life. Everything else about her was small as herperson, and little more effectual. But this impetuous, large-heartedhusband of hers--whose love she had been so proud to win, and hadtaken such small pains to keep--could by no means be chiselled intoproportions with the rest of the picture. He took his stand, simplyand naturally, on the heights; and if it was an effort to keep up withhim, it was a real calamity to be left behind. Understand him shecould not, and never would; but it sufficed that she saw him fearless, chivalrous, admired on all sides, and singularly good to look at. Thislast should perhaps have been set down first; for there is no denyingthat her remorse, her suffering, had been less overwhelming withoutthat unexpected vision of his face. 

But things were going to be all right soon. She would never hideanything from him again--never. And the resolve may be counted untoher for righteousness, even if there could be small hope of itsfulfilment. 

Such absorbing considerations crowded out all thought of Honor'sgenerosity. It was just Honor. No one else would ever give you twohundred rupees, at a moment's notice, as if it were sixpence. But youmight expect anything from Honor--that was how she was made. And theone important point was--Theo. Nothing else really mattered at all. 

As Kresney's bungalow came in sight she found herself fervently hopingthat he might have gone out; that she might have to encounter nothingmore formidable than Miss Kresney, or, better still, the bearer. 

But before the gate was reached, she caught sight of him in theverandah, taking his ease very completely in one of those ungainlychairs, with arms extending to long wooden leg-rests, which seem tobelong to India and no other country in the world. He had exchangedhis coat for a Japanese smoking jacket, whose collar and cuffs couldill afford to brave daylight; and his boots for slippers of Linda'smaking, whose conflicting colours might have set an oyster's teeth onedge! His own teeth were clenched upon a rank cigar; and he wasreading a paper-bound novel that she would not have touched with apair of tongs. 

He had never appeared to worse advantage; and Evelyn, fresh from herhusband's air of unobtrusive neatness and distinction, was consciousof a sudden recoil--a purely physical revulsion; to which was addedthe galling thought that she owed her recent suffering and humiliationto her intimacy with a man who could look like that!

As she turned in at the gate, he sprang up and ran down the steps. Herreturn astounded him. He was prepared for anything at that moment, except the thing that happened--a common human experience. 

"Back again, Mrs Desmond!" he cried cheerfully. "This is a mostunexpected pleasure. _Rukho jhampan. _"[31]

[31] Set down the jhampan. 

But Evelyn countermanded the order so promptly that Kresney's eyebrowswent up. She handed him her note, clutching the wooden pole nervouslywith the other hand. 

"I had to come out again--on business, " she said, with that readymingling of the false and true which had been her undoing. "And Ithought I could leave this for Miss Kresney as I passed. Will youplease give it to her. I am sorry she is not in. "

He took the envelope, and watched her while she spoke with narrowedeyes. 

"You are in trouble?" The intimate note in his voice jarred for thefirst time. "Something has upset you since you left? You are quiteknocked up with all this. You ought to have been in Murree two weeksago. "

And, presumably by accident, his hand came down upon her own. She drewit away with an involuntary shudder; and Kresney's sallow facedarkened. 

"You have no business to say that, " she rebuked him with desperatecourage; "I prefer to be with my husband till he is well enough to gotoo. You won't forget my note, will you? Good-night. "

"Good-night, Mrs Desmond, " he answered formally, without profferinghis hand. 

As he stood watching her depart, all that was worst in him rose to thesurface and centred in his close-set eyes. "By God, you shall be sorryfor that!" he muttered. 

But in mounting the steps his curiosity was awakened by the bulkinessof Linda's letter. He turned it over once or twice; pressed it betweenhis fingers and detected the crackle of new bank-notes. 

"So that's it, is it? Well, I can forgive her. No doubt she had ajolly hot quarter of an hour; and I hope that fellow is enjoyinghimself now--_like hell!_" Then, without a glimmer of hesitation, heopened his sister's letter. 

 * * * * *

And, out in the road, Evelyn's jhampanis were experiencing fresh proofof the indubitable madness of Memsahibs. 

No sooner were their faces set cheerfully homeward, than they werebrought up short by an order to turn and carry her in the oppositedirection. No destination was specified; and the road indicated ledout towards the hills. Hookahs and chupatties tugging at theirheart-strings, roused them to mild rebellion. The mate, as establishedspokesman, murmured of _khana_[32] and the lateness of the hour;adding that the road behind them led away from the Sahibs' bungalowsto the boundary of the station. 

[32] Food. 

But Evelyn, whose Hindustani was still a negligible quantity, made noattempt to follow the man's remarks. She reiterated her wish, addingirritably, "Make no foolish talk. It is an order!"

Those magic words, _Hukm hai_, are the insignia of authority throughthe length and breadth of India; and consoling one another with thereflection that if the Memsahib had small understanding, the Sahib wasgreat, they jogged obediently along the lonely road toward the hills. 

Evelyn's order had been given on the impulse of a moment. The idea ofconfronting her husband again in less than ten minutes had overpoweredher suddenly and completely. She had only one thought--to gain-time;to screw up her courage for the ordeal; and to realise a little whatshe intended to say. It is only the strong who dare to trust that theright words will be given them. 

Her interview with Kresney had unnerved her; and a lurking doubtquenched the spark of hope at her heart. Would Theo accept her tardyobedience without asking unanswerable questions. Or would he simplyput her aside, with his inexorable quietness, that was far moreterrible than any spoken word?

In all the pain and bewilderment of their short interview, nothing hadso smitten her as his recoil--first and last--from the touch of herhands. The bare possibility that he might treat her so again madereturn seem out of the question. And her unhappiness struck deeperthan the fear of the moment. For the first time she realised her owninstability of feeling and purpose; and with the realisation came anew paralysing fear of the future--of herself. 

For the first time it dawned upon her that she was unworthy of thelove and faith that had been given her in such generousmeasure;--which was proof conclusive, though she did not guess it, that Honor Meredith had not laboured in vain. To know oneself unworthyis to have achieved the first step upward. A year ago she would havebeen incapable of such knowledge; and now that it had come to her shewas afraid. 

Sudden cessation of movement roused her; and the mate, turning hishead, spoke with respectful urgency. 

"Protector of the Poor, it is not well to go farther. Behold the swiftgoing of the sun. Before your servants can reach the bungalow therewill be no more light, and it is against orders----The Sahib will makeangry talk. "

Evelyn did not follow the whole of this appeal; but the man's anxietywas evident. She caught the words "Sahib" and "angry" with an inwardshudder; she had endured enough of the Sahib's anger for one day, andher own common-sense told her that she had behaved foolishly. 

Even outlying bungalows were no longer in sight. A boundary pillargleamed ghostlike a few hundred yards ahead. The last rim of the sunhad already slipped behind the hills. Their harsh peaks black againsta sky of faint amber, had a threatening look; and darkness was racingup out of the east. The mate was right. It would be upon them almostbefore they could reach the bungalow; and to be out after sunset wasstrictly against the rules of the station. 

Sudden terror clutched her; a nameless dread of the country--of thenatives--which she had never been able to shake off; a paralysingsense that she was alone in their midst--alone on the verge of night. 

Fear unsteadied her voice as she answered the man. "Turn, turn atonce, and go quickly, --run; the Sahib will give _jacksheesh_--run!"

But before they could obey, a white figure sprang up from behind acluster of rocks. Quick as thought followed a flash, a report, aheart-piercing scream; and the men, with a cry of "Ghazi! Ghazi!"unceremoniously set down their mistress and fled. 

The fanatic fled also, certain of a passport into Paradise; and asEvelyn Desmond fell back among her cushions, a shadow, that had notbeen there before, crept slowly across the shoulder of her muslindress. The oncoming darkness mattered nothing to her now; and sheherself, a mere atom of life, blown out like a candle, mattered lessthan nothing to the desert and the imperturbable hills. 

But justice does not invariably tarry. The arm of the Lord is notshortened, though in these days of omniscience man has a larger faithin his own; and the Ghazi, heading post-haste through the dusk plungedunwittingly into a group of villagers and cattle returning home. 

A short scuffle ensued, shouts and the tramping of feet--sounds whichbrought the flying jhampanis back in a twinkling, surcharged withvoluble valour and explanations. Resistance was useless. Moreover, tothe fanatic, death is the one great gift. With stoical indifferencethe man found himself overpowered and disarmed. Zealous villagers, unrolling turbans and kummerbunds, made fast his arms, bound himsecurely about the waist and neck, and in this ignominious fashion ledhim back to where Evelyn Desmond lay untroubled and alone. 

The jhampanis shouldered their burden once more; and fell todiscussing, in lively detail, the hanging and subsequent burning thatawaited the Taker of Life, who walked unconcernedly in their midst. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

C'ÉTAIT MA VIE. 

 "C'était toute petite, ma vie: Mais c'était ma vie. " --ANATOLE FRANCE. 

"Honor, come out! I want you. "

Desmond's voice, followed by a peremptory rap on the door, startledthe girl back to a realisation of the flight of time. The sun had set, and a grey light filled the room. Without a passing thought of thetears upon her face, she lowered the bolt and confronted Evelyn'shusband. 

"Ladybird isn't back yet, " he said quickly. "It'll be dark in tenminutes. I _must_ know where she went to, and go after her myself. "

Honor bit her lip. To tell him at such a moment would be madness; yethe was in an ill mood to oppose. 

"Can't you send the orderly?" she asked, with something less than herwonted assurance. 

"No. I am going myself. This is no time to fuss over trifles. Something may have gone wrong----"

"Hush, --listen! What's that?"

The shuffling and grunting of jhampanis, and the thud of the lowereddandy, were distinctly audible in the stillness. 

"There she is!" Desmond said eagerly; and a moment later the blood inhis veins was chilled by a long-drawn wail from the verandah. "Hai--hai--_mere Memsahib murgya!_"[33]

[33] My mistress is dead. 

Before the cry had spent itself he was through the "chick, " down theverandah steps at a bound, and bending over his unconscious wife. Herhead had dropped down to one shoulder, and on the other ominous stainsshowed darkly in the half light. 

"Great God--_murder!_" Desmond muttered between his teeth. "Whatdevil's work is this?" he added, turning upon the cowering jhampanis. 

"Ghazi, Sahib; Ghazi, " they told him in eager chorus, with a childishmingling of excitement and terror; and would fain have enlarged upontheir own valour in pursuing the Taker of Life, but that Desmond'scurt "_chupraho_"[34] checked them in mid-career. 

[34] Be quiet. 

"Stay where you are, Honor, " he added to the girl, who had followedhim, and now stood at the head of the steps. "I am bringing her in. "

"Is she--alive?"

"God knows. Look sharp and get some brandy. "

He took up one limp hand and laid his fingers on her wrist. A faintflutter of life rewarded him. 

"Thank Heaven!" he murmured; and lifted her tenderly in his arms. Butat the foot of the steps he paused. 

"Nassur Ali--the Doctor Sahib. Ride like the wind!" Then turning againto the jhampanis, big with harrowing detail, added: "The devil who didthis thing, hath he escaped?"

"_Nahin_, _nahin_, [35] Sahib. Would your Honour's servants permit? Thejackal spawn is even now in the hands of the police. May his soul burnin hell----"

[35] No, no. 

"It is enough--go!" Desmond commanded in the peremptory vernacular;and mounted the steps with his burden. 

Honor stood awaiting him in the drawing-room, white as her dress, tears glistening on her cheeks and lashes, yet very composed withal. 

At sight of his face she started; it was grey-white and set like arock. Only the eyes were alive--and ruthless, as she had never yetseen them, and prayed that she never might see them again. 

"They've got the man, " he said between his teeth. "I wish to God Icould shoot him with my own hand. "

Then he went forward to the sofa, and laid his wife upon it. His quickeye detected at once the nature of the wound. "Lung, " he mutteredmechanically. "No hope. "

With the same unnatural calmness, he drew the long pins out of herhat--the poor, pretty hat which had so delighted her six hours ago;and as she moved, with a small sound of pain, he applied the spirit toher lips. 

"What is it?" she murmured. "Don't touch me. "

The faint note of distaste struck on her husband's heart; for he didnot understand its meaning. 

"Ladybird--look!" he entreated gently. "It is Theo. " She opened hereyes, and gazed blankly up at him, where he leaned above her. 

Then, as recognition dawned, he saw the shadow of fear darken them, and instantly dropped on one knee enclosing her with his arm. 

"Ladybird, forgive me! You must never be frightened of me--never!"

The intensity of his low tone roused her half-awakened brain. 

"But you were so angry, I was--afraid to come home. "

"My God!" the man groaned under his breath. But before he could graspthe full horror of it all, she shrank closer to him, clutching at hisarm, her eyes wide with terror. 

"There's blood on me--look! It was--that man. Is it bad? Am Igoing--to die?"

"Not if human power can save you, my dear little woman. Mackay willsoon be here. "

But pain and fear clouded her senses, and she scarcely heard hiswords. 

"Theo--I can't see you properly. Are you there?"

"Yes, yes. I am here. "

The necessity for speech tortured him. But her one coherent longingwas for the sound of his voice. 

"_Don't_ let me die, please--not yet. I won't make you angry any more, I promise. And--it frightens me so. Keep tight hold of me; don't letme slip--away. "

Desmond had a sensation as if a hand had gripped his throat, chokinghim, so that he could neither speak nor breathe. But with a supremeeffort he mastered it; and leaning closer to her, spoke slowly, steadily, that she might lose no word of the small comfort he hadpower to give. 

"I am holding you, my darling; and I will hold you to the very end. Only try--try to be brave, and remember that--whatever happens, youare safe--in God's hands. "

A pitiful sob broke from her. 

"But I don't understand about God! I only want--you. I want _your_hands--always. Where is the other one? Put it--underneath me--and holdme--ever so close. "

He obeyed her, in silence, to the letter. She winced a little at themovement; then her head nestled into its resting-place on the woundedshoulder, with a sigh that had in it no shadow of pain; and bendingdown he kissed her, long and fervently. 

"Theo--darling, " she breathed ecstatically, when her lips were freefor speech, "now I _know_ it isn't true--what you said aboutnot--caring any more. And I am--ever so happy. God can't letme--die--now. "

And on the word, a rush of blood from the damaged lung brought on theinevitable choking cough, that shattered the last remnant of herstrength. Her fingers closed convulsively upon his; and at the utmostheight of happiness--as it were, on the crest of a wave--her spiritslipped from its moorings;--and he was alone. 

Still he knelt on, without movement, without thought, almost it seemedwithout breathing, like a man turned to stone; holding her, as he hadpromised, to the very end, and--beyond. 

Honor, standing afar off, dazed and heart-broken, one hand claspingthe back of a chair for support, heard at last the rattle ofapproaching hoofs, and nerved herself for the ordeal of speech. Butwhen Mackay entered with Paul Wyndham, Desmond made no sign. Thelittle doctor's keen eye took in the situation at a glance; and at theunlooked-for relief of Paul's presence, Honor's strained composuredeserted her. She swayed a little, stretched out a hand blindlytowards him, and would have fallen, but that he quietly put his armround her, and with a strange mixture of feelings saw her head drop onto his shoulder. But it was only for a moment. Contact with theroughness of his coat roused her on the verge of unconsciousness. Shedrew herself up, a faint colour mantling in her cheeks, and tried tosmile. 

"Come away, " Paul whispered, leading her to the door. "We can give himno help--or comfort--yet. "

 AFTERMATH. 

 "Had he not turned them in his hand, and thrust Their high things low and laid them in the dust, They had not been this splendour. "

 I. 

Some two weeks after that day of tragedy--a tragedy that had stirredand enraged the whole station--Theo Desmond and Paul Wyndham leftKohat on furlough, long over-due to both. Such a wander-year, spenttogether, had, from early days, been one of their cherished dreams;but, as too often happens, there proved little family likeness betweenthe dream and the reality. In the dream, Desmond was naturally to bethe leading spirit of their grand tour. In the reality, all practicalplans and considerations had devolved on Paul, and Theo it was whoassented, unquestioning, uncaring, so long as he could put half theworld between himself and Kohat. 

His long illness, the fear of losing his sight, the double shock ofself-revelation and loss had affected him mentally as blow on blowaffects a man physically. Since the night of his wife's death none hadseen him strongly moved, either by sorrow, pleasure, or anger. He hadsaid and done all that was required of him with a strained unnaturalprecision. Even to the few who had drawn nearest to him in formertimes of trouble, he seemed now like a house whose every door islocked and every shutter drawn. 

Outwardly unmoved, he had endured the ordeal of Evelyn's funeral, thestorm of public surprise and indignation aroused by her murder. ThoughBritish officers, not a few, have been victims to fanaticism in India, no Englishwoman had ever been shot at before, and the strong feelingaroused by so dastardly a crime had been long in subsiding. The newshad been wired to Peshawur. The Commissioner had galloped acrossthirty miles of desert next morning; and before Evelyn's funeral, atsundown, her death had been openly avenged by the hanging of hermurderer and the burning of his body. 

On that day Honor had gone over to Mrs Conolly's bungalow, there toremain till Meredith's arrival; and in the two weeks that followed, Desmond had seen little of her--or of any one save Paul. She hadhelped him in disposing of Evelyn's personal belongings; and at hisearnest request, had accepted one or two of her trinkets, theremainder being sent home to her mother. At his request also, Honorhad taken over charge of his piano while he was away; and if a touchof constraint marked their parting, neither was aware of it in theother. 

By one sole distinction he had set her apart from the rest. To her, and her only, he could and did speak of his wife; for the simplereason that in her he recognised a love and a sorrow that matched hisown--a sorrow untainted by the lurking after thought, "Better so"; andthat tacit recognition had been for Honor the single ray of light inher dark hour. Once, before parting, she had spoken of it to Paul, whothenceforward knew his friend's aloofness for what it was--not themere reserve of the strong man in pain, but the old incurable loyaltyto his wife that had kept them all at arm's length in respect of herwhile she lived. 

So they two went forth together on their sorrowful pilgrimage; and, once gone, there fell a curtain of silence between Desmond and thosehe had left behind. Week after week, month after month, that silenceremained unbroken, though Olliver and his wife wrote and John Meredithwrote also on his return; though they plied him with questions, withnews of the Regiment and Border politics, never a sight of hishandwriting came to cheer them. But for Paul's unfailing, ifdiscouraging bulletins, no word of him would have reached them at all. 

Honor herself wrote twice, without avail; and thereafter accepted thefiat of silence, gleaning what comfort she might from a steadycorrespondence with Paul. It was not in her to guess how thosefortnightly letters, so frank in expression, so reserved in essence, had upheld him through the darkest and most difficult months of hislife; months in which he could only stand aside and wait till the manhe loved, as Jonathan loved David, should come forth out of the houseof sorrow and take up the broken threads of life once more. 

Meantime, with inexhaustible patience, he continued to try one placeafter another, one distraction after another, with small result. Itwas a costly prescription, and though Desmond imagined he contributedhis share, the chief of it was paid by his friend. During those firstmonths he read little, talked little, and rarely expressed a definitewish. He would go anywhere, do anything in reason, so long as nomental effort was required of him; but music--to Paul's uttermystification--he decisively refused to hear. For the time being theman's whole nature seemed awry, and there were moments when Paul'sheart contracted with dread of the worst. 

Christmas found them at Le Trayas, on the Esterelles coast, anisolated paradise unprofaned by sight or sound of the noisy, restlesslife of the French Riviera. Here Theo Desmond had spent whole hours ata stretch, basking in the temperate December sunshine, under featherymimosa bushes, that glorify the foothills, --silent as ever, yetseemingly content. 

Still he wrote no line to the Regiment, that for thirteen years hadstood second only to his God, and very rarely asked for news of it orhis friends. By now their letters betrayed hints and more than hintsof increasing anxiety. The men wrote tentatively; but Frank Olliver, nothing if not direct, poured forth her loving, unreasoning Irishheart on closely-written sheets of foreign paper, to Wyndham'salternate distraction and delight. 

"Is there no manner of wild tale you could invent now to rouse theblessed man?" she wrote about this time. "Sure it's past believingthat his pretty doll of a wife--who went near to ruin himliving--should stand between him and us that love him, worse than evernow she's dead. The fear of it haunts me like a bogey and makes me gored hot inside. "

The selfsame fear made Paul Wyndham go cold in the small hours; buthe could not bring himself to write of it, even to Frank. 

At last, in the second week of the New Year, there came news thatwrought a change in Desmond; news from John Meredith of his father'sbroken health and his sister's immediate departure for England. Shewould sail in a week, he wrote, and would travel overland. 

Paul, reading the letter to his friend, had a sudden inspiration. 

"Theo, let's go and meet her at Marseilles!" he said eagerly, "and seeher safe into the express. It would please Meredith--and her too. "

For the fraction of a second, an answering eagerness glowed inDesmond's eyes; then vanished, leaving his face a politely interestedmask. But Paul had seen the flash and pressed his point accordingly. 

"Of _course_ you'll come, Theo. A sight of her will do us both good. I'm glad I thought of it. "

"So am I, " Desmond agreed, without a particle of gladness in his leveltone. "But--you can leave me out of the programme. One of us isenough--for all that is needed; and it's only right it should be you. "

"I don't quite follow the logic of that. "

Desmond's set face softened to a smile. "Don't you, old man? Then youmust take my word for it. "

In spite of that smile Paul heard the note of finality in his friend'svoice and said no more. 

On the appointed morning he set out alone to meet the ship, pain andelation contending in his heart. But when, at last, he set eyes onHonor Meredith, and saw her whole face lighten at sight of him, complexities were submerged in a flood-tide of simple, human joy. 

But the exalted moment was short-lived. He could not fail to see how, instinctively, her glance travelled beyond him; how her lower lip wasindrawn for the space of a heart-beat; and when their hands met, he, as instinctively, answered her thought. 

"I couldn't persuade Theo to come. He is still difficult to rouse ormove. The news of your father did seem to stir him and I am hoping hewill write. "

She let out her breath unsteadily. "Oh, if he only would! Thisinterminable silence seems--so inhuman. In a way, I understand it; butthe others, out there, are getting terribly unhappy over it; John andFrank more than all. _You_ don't think--do you--that there is reallyany fear----?"

The look in her eyes recalled that terrible night of March when theytwo had watched over Theo in turn; and Paul knew that now--asthen--she craved no cheap consolation, but the truth. 

"There have been bad moments, " he admitted, "when one wasafraid----But now I honestly believe that he _will_ fight again andlive again with his old zest; and I want you to believe it too, withall your heart. "

"I will believe it--with all my heart, " she answered very low andsteadily. "Have you any plans--beyond Le Trayas?"

"Nothing definite. I just keep my eye on him and act accordingly. InApril, I think Bellagio would be a sound move. There, if anywhere, thecall of the spring should prove irresistible. At least it's aprescription worth trying. "

She smiled; and, even in smiling, he noted the pathetic droop of hereyelids and the corners of her lips. 

"How wise you are for him, Paul! And you _will_ come home for a littlebefore going back?"

"I hope so, devoutly, if Bellagio proves a success. "

The crowd about them, surging chaotically to and fro, recalled them toprosaic considerations of luggage and a corner seat in the express, which Paul--unhurried yet singularly efficient--did not fail tosecure. That done, Honor was confided to the care of an assiduousguard, and was supplied with fruit, chocolate, and more newspapersthan she could possibly digest;--trifling services which the girl, inher great loneliness, rated at their true value. 

By that time the platform had emptied its contents into the high, dingy-looking carriages of the Paris-Lyons Express. A gong clanged. Honor put out an ungloved hand and had some ado not to wince before itwas released. 

"Thank you--for everything, " she murmured, sudden tears starting toher eyes. "I only wish Theo could have come too!"

"I'll tell him that. It may do him good!"

In spite of herself the blood flew to her cheeks. But before she couldanswer, the train jolted forward--and she was gone. 

Paul Wyndham stood a long while motionless, looking into empty space;then, with a sensible jar, he came very completely back to earth. 

 * * * * *

It was near sunset when he reached their haven of refuge, a smallhotel set in a rocky garden overlooking the sea. No sign of Theowithin doors, --and Paul strolled down the narrow pathway that led tohis friend's favourite seat. There, at the far end, leaning upon thebalustrade, he sighted an unmistakable figure black against a blazingheaven rippled with light clouds that gave promise of greater glory tocome. 

Footsteps behind him roused Desmond. He started and turned about witha new eagerness that was balm to the heart of his friend. 

"Ah--_there_ you are! It's been a long day. " His eyes scannedWyndham's face. "You've seen her?" he asked abruptly. 

"Yes--I have seen her. "

"How did she look? Well?"

"She looked very beautiful, " Paul answered simply, an odd thrill inhis voice. "But not--not like her old self. One can see--she hassuffered. "

Desmond bit his lip and turned away again. A sudden mist blurred thesunset splendour, the bronze and purple iridescence of the sea. Paulwent on speaking. 

"She sent you a message, Theo--she wished you had come too. "

"Did she? That was kind of her. --Sir John no worse?"

"Apparently not. She will write from Mavins. "

"Good. "

He leaned on the balustrade as before and tacitly dismissed thesubject; but Wyndham, regarding him thoughtfully, and rememberingHonor's tell-tale blush, fell to dreaming of a golden future for thesetwo who were dearer to him than his own soul. 

Suddenly Desmond spoke again in an altered tone. 

"Paul--I've been thinking----"

"Have you, indeed! You do very little else these days. What's theoutcome?"

"Nothing brilliant. Quite the reverse. I'm a coward at heart. That'sall about it. "

Paul smiled as a mother might smile at the vagaries of a belovedchild. 

"Can't say I've seen any symptoms of the disease myself. "

"Well--you're going to, old man, plain as daylight. It's likethis----" he squared his shoulders with a jerk and thrust both handsinto his pockets. "I can't face--going back to Kohat. I've suspectedit for some time. Now I know it. There's too much--that is tosay--there _are_ reasons. Pretty big ones. But they don't bear talkingof. Think me a broken-backed cornstalk if you must. It'll hurt. But itcan't be helped. "

For an instant Paul's heart stood still. Then: "Don't talk that brandof nonsense to me, old man, " he said gently. "But if you really can'tgo back--what then?"

"I said--to Kohat. The reliefs will take us to Dera in the autumn. Well--I want to work another six months on urgent private affairs----"he tried to smile. "Do you think the Colonel will come within ahundred miles of understanding and be persuaded to back me up?"

"I think, just at present, he would be loth to refuse you anything, Theo. But still----"

"Well--_what?_"

His tone had a touch of defiance, almost of temper, purely refreshingto hear. 

"Well, naturally--I was thinking of the Regiment----"

"Damn the Regiment!" Desmond flashed out, and turning on his heelstrode off toward a wooded headland, whose red rocks took an almostunearthly glow from the setting sun. 

For several seconds Paul looked after him, scarcely able to believehis ears. If Theo had arrived at damning the Regiment, Frank's fearmight not prove to be chimerical after all; and yet the flash oftemper, the renewed energy of speech and movement were symptoms of thebest. 

Paul sat down on the bench, folded his arms, and proceeded toconsider, in practical fashion, how they could secure the desiredextension of leave. Theo might dub himself coward if he would. Paulknew better. He had long ago guessed that stronger forces were at workin his friend than mere sorrow for the loss of a wife, howeverdear--and he had guessed right. It was Desmond's sensitive consciencethat had been his arch tormentor throughout those months of silenceand strangeness that had brought him near to madness and Paul near todespair. 

Tragedy on tragedy--loss of the Boy, dread of blindness, the shock ofhis own discovery of Evelyn's defection, and the awful fashion of herdeath--had so unsteadied and overwrought his strong brain that, evennow, he could neither see nor think clearly in respect of those mostterrible weeks of his life. Obsessed by an exaggerated sense of hisown disloyalty to the wife who should never have been transplanted tosuch stony soil, he saw himself virtually her murderer, in the eyes ofthat God who was, for him, no vague abstraction but the mostcommanding reality of his consciousness. 

Day after day, week after week, he had lived over and over again theevents of that fateful month, from the moment of his return, to thelast bewildering, unforgettable scene with his wife. Always hediscovered fresh excuses for her. Always he lashed himself unsparinglyfor his own failings;--the initial folly of bringing her to theFrontier, his promise to Honor that had delayed his determination toexchange, and more than all, that final straight speaking--wrung fromhim by pain and shame--that had made fear of him outweigh even herchildish terror of the dark. In the hidden depth of his heart he hadbeen untrue to her, and his passionate attempt at reparation had cometoo late. There had even been fevered moments when he told himselfthat he, Theo Desmond, not the crazy fanatic in quest ofsainthood--should by rights have been hanged and burned on the day ofher death. 

The whole tragical tangle, blurred and distorted by incessantrepetition, had come at last to seem almost a separate entity; ahorror, outside his own control, that now shrank to a pin-point andnow loomed gigantic, oppressive, till all true sense of proportionwas lost. The silence that he could not force himself to break, infallibly made matters worse. And now came Honor, re-awakening thegreat love he had wrestled with and trampled on to very small purpose;a love beside which his chivalrous tenderness for Evelyn showed likethe flame of a candle in the blaze of noon. 

Her sudden return, the perturbing sense of her nearness, had for thefirst time wrenched him away from the obsession of the past. But evennow he dared not frankly face the future; dared not let his mind dwellon the colourless emptiness of life without her. Neither could he, asyet, face the only alternative--to tell her, of all women, that he hadloved her before his wife's death. Besides, there was Paul, whoobviously cared, in his own repressed fashion, and who must not bebaulked of his chance. 

Yet to-night, as he tramped the whole round of that rocky headland--inthe glow of a sky rippled by now with feathers of flame--his blood wasin a fever for sheer desire of her, and he cursed the folly that hadimpelled him to refuse the morning's golden opportunity. 

Returning later, in a more chastened mood, he found Wyndham sittingstill as a statue, seemingly forgetful of his existence; and of asudden his heart contracted at thought of his friend's inexhaustiblepatience, his unquestioning acceptance of moods to which he did nothold the key. Stepping lightly, Desmond came up behind him and laidboth hands on his shoulders. 

"Forgive me, old man. I didn't precisely mean all that----"

Wyndham scarcely started. 

"I thought as much! Don't apologise!" he said, looking up with hisslow smile. "It was a pure pleasure to hear you swear again!"

Desmond laughed abruptly. "You'll get more than enough of that kind ofpleasure if they refuse me my six months!--But look here, I'm thinkingI can't keep _you_ away from them any longer----"

"My dear Theo, " Paul interposed with gentle decision. "So long as youstay--I stay. That goes without saying. Meredith will fix it up forus--no fear. Come on now. It's time we went indoors. "

They sauntered back up the gravel path together without furtherspeech, yet with thoughts more closely linked than either guessed;thoughts that flew instinctively as homing doves to the one belovedwoman--Honor Meredith. 

 II. 

A late April evening on Lake Como:--for the initiated there is magicin the very words; magic of light and warmth and colour; glory ofroses and wistaria, that everywhere renew the youth of ancient ruinsand walls and weave a spring garment even for the sombre cypress whohas none of his own. Love-song of birds, laughter of men and women, the passionate blue above, the sun-warmed cobblestones underfoot--inthese also there is magic, unseizable, irresistible as the happinessof a child. There is nothing great about Como, nothing in the measuredbeauty of her encircling hills to uplift or strike awe into the soulof a man. She is exquisite, finished; a garden enclosed, a garden ofenchantment that speaks straight to the heart; and the banner over heris peace. 

Here Paul Wyndham--with the instinctive understanding that belongs toa great love--had chosen to round off the wander-year devoted to hisfriend. Throughout that year he had done all that one man may do foranother in his dark hour; and each week his conviction grew strongerthat Honor--and none but Honor--could do the rest. Let them only meetagain, in fresh surroundings, and Theo--already so very much herfriend--could not fail to come under her spell. His present seemingdisposition to avoid her Paul set down to her intimate associationwith his wife. Six months' extension of leave had been granted toboth, and Paul looked to a summer in England to establish what Italyhad already begun. 

Since that night at Le Trayas, when Theo had damned the Regiment andconfessed his dread of returning to Kohat, Paul had begun to be awareof a change in his friend. Apathy had given place to restlessness, toa craving for distraction that neither Nature nor Art could satisfy. From place to place he had shifted like a man pursued. He fled as ananimal flies from a gadfly securely fastened into his flesh. Go wherehe would, the passionate voice of his own heart spoke louder thanbooks and pictures, mountains and the sea, urging him always in theone direction that his will was set to avoid. 

Wyndham--aware of some inner struggle, while far from suspecting itsnature--reckoned it all to the good, since it implied that the realman was astir at last. His suggestion of the Hotel Serbelloni atBellagio--diplomatically broached--had been hailed almost withenthusiasm; and a month of Italy's April at its radiant best hadproven, past question, the wisdom of the move. 

In those four weeks they had explored the length and breadth of thelake with the restless energy of their race; had tramped the stonyroads of North Italy and climbed every height within reach. 

Better than all, it was now Theo who planned their expeditions, studied guide books and discussed local legends with his very goodfriend the Head Waiter. Flashes of temper had become more frequent. Hecould even be lured into argument again and grow hot over a game ofchess. Trivial details--but for Wyndham each was a jewel beyond price. And Desmond was writing again now; fitfully but spontaneously, as ofold. He had written to Sir John, and to the Colonel; and there hadbeen two thick envelopes addressed to Frank; but never a one to HonorMeredith. 

It had needed only this to fill Paul's cup of content; butDesmond--though he talked more openly of other matters--seldommentioned the girl. 

As on his return from the Samana, so now, he had fought his hiddenfight and come off conqueror. All things conspired to convince himthat Paul was the man--the infinitely worthier man--of her choice; andtheir steady correspondence seemed proof conclusive. At that ratethere was nothing for it but to stand aside, leaving Paul to go inand win; only--he could not bring himself to be present at theprocess. 

So these two friends, united by one of the closest ties on earth, lived and thought at cross purposes, for the simple reason that evenof so fine a quality as reserve it is possible to have too much of agood thing. 

And now an end of peaceful isolation. To-morrow they would cross toMenaggio homeward bound; and on this their last evening they climbedthe cobblestoned, corkscrew of a path that winds to the ruins of Torredi Vezio above Varenna. The fine outlook from the summit was Desmond'sfavourite view of the lake. He himself had planned the outing, and nowstrode briskly ahead of his friend, with more of the old vigour andelasticity in his bearing than Paul had yet seen. To-day, too, for thefirst time, he had discarded the crepe band from the sleeve of hisgrey flannel suit; a silent admission that the spirit of resurrectionhad not called to him in vain. 

Paul, noting these significant trifles, decided that he could havechosen no time more propitious for the thing he had to say. Thatmorning's post had brought a letter from Sir John Meredith beggingthem both to come straight to his country house in Surrey for a week. Paul saw that invitation as Theo's God-given chance to discover thetreasure that was his for the asking; and all day he had patientlyawaited the given moment for speech. Now he recognised it, and did notintend to let it slip through his fingers. 

 * * * * *

The grey stone walls and towers of the Torre di Vezio stoodfour-square and rugged in the last of the sun; their battlementsjewelled with fine mosaic work of lichens, their feet in the younggrass of April starred with cowslips and late primroses. Near the oldwooden door two cypresses stood sentinel, and the gnarled olives inthe foreground loomed ancient and unresponsive as the wallsthemselves. The light wind of the morning had dropped with the sun;and the lake, far below them, showed delicately blurred mirages oftownlets, hills, and sky. Southward, toward Como and Lecco, all wassaturated in the magical blue atmosphere, the aura of Italy. Northward, toward Gravedona, the lesser Alps gloomed grey-violetunder a mass of indigo cloud that blotted out the snows. 

Theo Desmond, standing very erect, with the sun in his eyes, felt thepeace and beauty of it all flow through his veins like wine. 

"It's good to be up here. Very good. Sit down, old man. "

Paul obeyed. They settled themselves on a green ledge near a boldoutcrop of rock. Desmond, leaning forward, sunk his chin on his handand fell into one of his brooding silences that had grown rarer oflate. 

So long it lasted that Paul began to fear he might lose the givenmoment after all. Yet every line of his friend's face and figurespelled peace; and he was loth to break the silence. Taking the letterfrom his pocket he opened it with ostentatious cracklings. He read itthrough twice, very leisurely; and still Desmond sat motionless, absorbed in the changing lights on the water and the hills. Then Paulgave it up and spoke. 

"Theo--I've had a letter from Sir John. They're delighted to hearwe're coming home. "

Desmond started and frowned without changing his position. Only hisstillness took on a more rigid quality. It had been natural; now itwas forced. 

"The old man going on well?" he asked, feeling that some remark wasexpected of him. 

"Yes. He's almost himself again. He and Lady Meredith want us to gostraight to Mavins for a week. What do you think?"

This time an answer was imperative; but it stuck in Desmond's throat. 

"Very good of them. All the same--I think not, " he said slowly; thenmade a clumsy attempt to modify the blank refusal. "You see, thoughI've taken this extra leave, I don't mean to spend it in loafing. We've had our fill of that. As soon as I get to town, I shall startreading in earnest for my promotion. "

Paul, puzzled and dismayed as he was, could not lightly relinquish hiscastle in the air. 

"I'm glad you feel up to work again, Theo, " he said. "But a week inthe country wouldn't seriously delay matters; and, in thecircumstances, it seems ungracious to refuse. It would cheer the oldman up. And it goes without saying that Honor would be glad to see usagain. "

The last appeal roused Desmond effectually. He jerked himself uprightand faced his friend; faced also the ordeal of open speech aftermonths of evasion. 

"Yes--yes. You're always right, old man, " he said, eyes and voicesuperbly under control. "I'm a selfish brute to monopolise youand--er--stand in your light. A sight of you will do them all good;and _you'll_ be glad to see--Honor again. I used to wonder--longago--what hindered you from fixing things up--you two. "

It was Paul's turn now to start and change colour. 

"You wondered?" he echoed blankly; then his voice dropped a tone. "Well, Theo, since you've touched on the subject, I'd as soon you knewthe truth. I--spoke to Honor last March, while you were away; and--sherefused. "

"Refused--_you?_"

In that flash of amazement and sympathy with his friend's pain, Desmond escaped, if only for a moment, from the tyranny of his owntormented soul. His gaze travelled back to the hills. 

"I'd have given her credit for more perception, " he said quietly; andPaul, regarding him with a whimsical tenderness: "Has love anything todo with that sort of thing?"

"No--no. I'm a blatant fool. But still--a man like you----!" He brokeoff short, and there was a moment of strained silence. But the realDesmond was awake at last, and he forced himself to add: "Women changesometimes--once they know. Have you never been tempted to try again?"

"No; and never shall be, for a very good reason. There's some one inthe way--some other man----"

Desmond drew in his breath sharply. 

"Good Lord!" he muttered in a low dazed voice, as if thinking aloud. "But where the deuce _is_ he? Why hasn't he come forward? He must be arotten sort of chap----"

Paul caressed his moustache to hide a smile. "Not necessarily Theo. Igather, from what she said that--there were difficulties----"

"Difficulties--?" Again he broke off, stunned by the coincidence, yetincapable of suspecting the truth. Then, pulling himself together, hisspoke in his natural voice: "Well, anyway, Paul, _you'd_ better acceptSir John's invitation, since you can still manage to be friends withher in spite of that infernal chap in the background. "

This time Paul smiled outright; but Desmond saw nothing. His chin sunkin his hand, he sat still as a rock, raging inwardly--as he had notraged for a full year--at thought of that same "infernal chap" whosedifficulties might not be permanent; who might even now----

Suddenly he became aware that Paul was answering his last remark. 

"Yes, Theo, I can just manage it, " he was saying in a voice of gravetenderness. "It has not been easy; but the truth is that--when it cameto the wrench--I hadn't the courage to let her go quite out of mylife. "

"You had not the _courage_!" Desmond flashed round on him, a gleam ofthe old fire in his eyes. "It's like you to put it that way, Paul. Thereal truth is that you had the courage to put mere passion under yourfeet. _I_ should feel rather, in such a case, that she _must_ go quiteout of my life. There's the root difference between us. I should nothave the courage to accept friendship when I wanted--the other thing. But we're not discussing my affairs--" He dismissed himself with agesture. "The point is, you'll go to Mavins and make my excuses to SirJohn. "

"Yes, if you really wish it, I'll go alone, a little later on. Only--you must furnish me with something valid in the way of excuse. You know, as well as I do, that _you_ are first favourite with the oldman. But I take it for granted you have some good reason at the backof your mind----"

"You're right there. I have--the strongest reason on earth. " He pausedand set his teeth, bracing himself to the final effort of confession. "What's more--I unintentionally stated it a minute ago, in plainterms. " He faced Wyndham squarely now and a dull flush mounted to histemples. "Since the ice is broken at last, there can be nothing lessthan absolute truth between us, " he said simply; and there was no moreneed for the clumsy machinery of speech. 

Paul's eyes, that neither judged nor questioned, rested on his friendlike a benediction. In that moment he had his reward for months ofsilent service, of patience strained almost to breaking point, ofanxiety that bordered on despair. 

Minute after minute they sat silent, while the splendour in the westblazed and spread till it challenged the oncoming shadow in the north;and the near hills grown magically ethereal, stood in a shimmer ofgold, like hills of dream. 

Then Desmond spoke again very quietly, without looking round. 

"Now perhaps you better understand--this last year?"

"Yes, Theo, I do understand, " Paul answered in the same tone, andDesmond let out a great breath. 

"God! The relief it is to feel square with you again!"

 III. 

In a third-floor sitting-room, facing east, breakfast was laid fortwo. Every item of the meal bespoke furnished apartments; and even theMay sunshine, flooding the place, failed to beautify the shabby carpetand furniture, the inevitable oleographs and the family groups thatshared the mantelpiece with pipes, pouches, and a tin of tobacco. Ahanging bookcase held some military books, a couple of novels, and avolume of Browning--the property of Paul. After Bellagio--Piccadilly;and their year abroad constrained them to economy at home. 

Theo Desmond sauntering in, scanned every detail with fastidiousdistaste. To-day, for the first time, a great longing possessed himfor the airy ramshackle bungalows of the Frontier he loved, for thetrumpet-call to "stables, " for a sight of his squadron and the feel ofa saddle between his knees. 

His wandering gaze lighted on a letter near Paul's place. The addresswas in Honor's handwriting. He stood a moment regarding it, thenturned sharply away and went over to the window. There he remained, seemingly absorbed in the varied traffic of Piccadilly, actuallyconsumed by such jealousy as he had never suffered while he imaginedthat her heart was given to his friend. 

For Paul's sake he could and would endure all things; but thisdetestable unknown who had won her and could not claim her was quiteanother affair. There could be no thought of standing aside on hisaccount. It was simply a question of Honor herself. She was not thewoman lightly to withdraw her love, once given. And yet--in ayear--who could tell? Love, like the spirit, bloweth where it listeth;and Paul's failure did not of necessity predicate his own. For all hersudden bewildering reserves, she had drawn very near to him in thoselast terrible weeks at Kohat; and now--now--if he could believe therewas the veriest ghost of a chance--!

The mere possibility set heart and blood in a tumult; a tumult checkedruthlessly by the thought that if Honor Meredith was not the woman tochange lightly, still less was she the woman to approach with thatconfession which, at all hazards, he was bound to make. Speaking of itto Paul had cost him such an effort as he ached to remember. Speakingof it to her seemed a thing inconceivable. And yet--in that case--whathope of escape from this unholy tangle, from this fury of jealousythat had stabbed his manhood broad awake at last?

In Italy he fondly believed that he had fought his fight andconquered. Yet now, behold, it was all to do over again!

"Theo, my dear chap, there _is_ such a thing as breakfast!" Paul'svoice brought him back to earth with a thud. "Will you have acongealed rasher or a tepid egg--or both?"

"Neither, confound you!" Desmond answered, swinging round with anabrupt laugh and strolling back to the table. 

Inevitably he glanced at the perturbing envelope, open now and proppedagainst the milk-jug, and as inevitably Paul answered his look. 

"Honor is in town for a few days, " he said, putting the letter nearTheo's plate, "staying with Lady Meredith's sister. She hopes I can goin and see her this morning. She seems under the impression that youare too busy, just now, to be included in any invitation. "

Desmond buttered a leathery triangle of toast with elaborateprecision. "You may as well encourage that notion, old chap. Itsimplifies things. You're going yourself, I suppose?"

"Yes. "

"Lucky devil!"

He scowled at the envelope by his plate and tacitly dismissed thesubject by an excursion into the _Morning Post_. 

They talked politics and theatres till the unappetising meal was endedand Paul pocketed his treasure with a sigh. It was the first time Theohad ignored one of her letters; and the simple-hearted fellow--quiteunaware that his mention of the other man had been a master-stroke ofpolicy--felt almost at his wits' end. Standing by the mantelpiecemechanically filling his pipe, he watched Desmond set out his booksand papers on the table near the window, intent on a morning ofabnormal industry; and the pathos of it all caught at his heart. Forthe first time in his controlled and ordered life he felt impelled tocarry a situation by storm--the result possibly of playing Providenceto Theo for the space of a year. 

But Theo plus a woman, loving and beloved, whom he obstinately refusedto meet, was a problem demanding far more of diplomacy, of intimatehuman experience than Paul Wyndham had been blest withal. The oneobvious service required of him was easier to recognise than toachieve. By some means these two must be brought together in spite ofthemselves; but for all his forty years he was pathetically at a lossto know how the deuce one contrived that sort of thing. It was awoman's job. Mrs Olliver, now, could have fixed it all up in atwinkling; while he--poor clumsy fool!--could only sit there smokingand racking his brain, while his eyes perfunctorily scanned thecolumns of the _Morning Post_. 

The doings of the world and the misdoings of those in power, earthquakes, shipwrecks, and rumours of wars--all these were asnothing to him compared with the insignificant tangle of one man andone woman among the whole seething, suffering throng. But concernbrought him no nearer to the unravelling of their tangle; and when thetime came to go he could think of nothing better than a direct appealto his friend. 

Desmond still sat at the table, head in hand, absorbed in theintricacies of military tactics. 

Paul rose and went over to him. "I'm going now, old chap. " The matterof fact statement was made with indescribable gentleness. "I'll beback in an hour or so. Wish to goodness you were coming too. "

"Damned if you can wish it more than I do, " Desmond answered withoutlooking up. 

"Well then--come. Is it really--so impossible as you think?"

Desmond nodded decisively. "Can't you see it for yourself, man? Evenif she _was_ quit of that other confounded fellow, how could I facetelling her--the truth?"

For a moment Paul was silenced; not because he found the questionunanswerable, but because of that hidden knowledge which he might notdisclose, even to save his friend. 

"My dear Theo, " he said at last, "I know--and you know--that, soonerthan lose her, you could go through any kind of fire. Besides, I havean idea she would understand----"

"So have I, " Desmond answered gruffly, "that's the deuce of it all. But it doesn't make a man less unworthy----"

"If it comes to that, " urged the diplomatist, "are any of us worthy?"

Desmond flung up his head with an odd laugh. 

"Possibly not! But there happen to be degrees of unfitness--yours andmine for instance, you blind old bat! Go along now, and enjoy the goodyou deserve. As for me--I have sinned and must take the consequenceswithout whining. "

"There is a radical difference, Theo, " Paul remarked quietly, "betweentemptation and sin. "

"Casuist!" was all the answer vouchsafed to him; and baffled--but notyet defeated--he went out into the May sunlight, quite determined, foronce in his life, to take by storm the citadel that seemed proofagainst capitulation. 

Before reaching his destination he had devised a plan so simple andobvious that it might have occurred to a child; and like a child hegloried in his unaided achievement. The fact that it involved leadingthem both blindfold to the verge of mutual discovery troubled him nota whit. Heart and conscience alike asserted that in this case the endjustified the means; and it needed but the veiled light in Honor'seyes at mention of Theo's name to set the seal on his decision. 

For near an hour they talked, with that effortless ease and intimacywhich is the hail-mark of a genuine friendship; and at the end of itHonor realised that, without any conscious intention on her part, Theo--and little else but Theo--had been their topic as a matter ofcourse. Never dreaming of design on the part of Paul, she merelyblessed him for a devotion that almost equalled her own, and accepted, with unfeigned alacrity, his suggestion that they should meet nextmorning at the Diploma Gallery. 

"I've not been there for a hundred years!" she declared with more ofher old lightness than he had yet seen in her: "It will take me backto bread-and-butter days! And I believe they have added some reallygood pictures since then. "

Paul exulted as an angler exults when he feels his first salmon tug atthe line; but his tone was casual and composed. "Come early, " he said. "Then we shall pretty well have the place to ourselves. Eleven?Half-past?"

"Somewhere between the two. "

"Good. "

And Paul Wyndham--the devout lover, who had trampled passion underfootto some purpose--walked back to Piccadilly like a man reprieved. Honorwas secure. Remained the capture of Theo--a more difficult feat; but, in his present mood, he refused to contemplate the possibility offailure. 

 * * * * *

A morning of unclouded brilliance found Desmond frankly bored withtactics and topography; the more so, perhaps, because Paul with simplecraft took his industry for granted. 

Soon after eleven, he put aside the inevitable pipe and newspaper andtook up his hat. "Well, Theo, " said he, "you won't be needing me tillafter lunch I suppose?--I'm off. "

"Where to, old man?" Desmond yawned extensively as he spoke, andpushed aside his little pile of red books with a promising gesture ofdistaste. "What's your dissipated programme?"

"An hour in the Diploma Gallery, and a stroll in the Park, " Paulreplied with admirable unconcern. "D'you feel like coming?"

"I feel like chucking all these into the waste-paper basket! WhenEngland takes it into her capricious head to do this sort of thing inMay, how the devil can a human man keep his nose to the grindstone?Come on!"

Paul's heart beat fast as they stepped into the street; faster stillas he glanced at Theo striding briskly beside him, head in air allunconscious that he was faring toward a tryst far more in tune withthe season and the new life astir in his blood than his late abnormalzeal in pursuit of promotion. 

To Paul it seemed that the heavens themselves were in league with him. Overhead, scattered ranks of chimneypots were bitten out of a skyscarcely less blue and ardent than Italy's own. In every open spaceyoung leaves flashed, golden-green, on soot-blackened branches ofchestnut, plane, and lime. And there were flowers everywhere--insquares and window-boxes and parks; in florists' and milliners'windows; in the baskets of flower-sellers and in women's hats. Thepaper-boy--blackbird of the London streets--whistled a livelier stave. Girls hurried past smiling at nothing in particular. They were glad tobe alive--that was all. 

And Theo?

He too was glad to be alive, to be free, at last, from the conqueringshadow of memory and self-reproach. If penance were required of him, surely that black year must suffice. Now the living claimed him; andthat claim could no longer be ignored. With a heart too full forspeech he walked beside his friend; and halting at last, on the stepsof Burlington House, he bared his head to the sunlight and drew a deepbreath of content. 

"I vote we don't waste much of this divine morning on pictures, Paul, "he said suddenly. "Why bother about them at all?"

Wyndham started visibly; but in less than a minute he was master ofhimself and the situation. 

"Well, as we're here, we may as well look in, " he answered casually;and without waiting further objection, turned to enter the building. 

Desmond, following, laid a hand on his shoulder. 

"Anything to please you, old man, " said he smiling. 

"God knows you've danced attendance on _my_ whims long enough!"

No sign of Honor in the cloistered coolness of the first room; only asmall group of people in earnest talk before one of the pictures, andan artist, with stool and easel, making a conscientious copy ofanother. 

Desmond made a cursory tour of the walls and passed on into the secondroom. Paul, increasingly anxious every moment, lagged behind andconsulted his watch. It was twenty-five minutes past eleven. Would shenever come?

The second room was empty, and there Desmond's aimless wandering hadbeen checked by a battle picture; a vigorous and tragic presentment ofSir John Moore's retreat from Corunna. 

"Here you are, Paul. Here's something worth looking at, " said he asWyndham joined him; and, soldier-like, they soon fell to discussingthe event rather than the picture. Desmond--his head full of tacticsand military history--held forth fluently quite in his old vein; whilePaul--who heard scarce one word in six--nodded sagely at appropriateintervals. 

Hope died hard in him. A clock outside, chiming the half-hour, rangits knell with derisive strokes that seemed to beat upon his heart. Itwas just his luck. She would never turn up. A hundred contingenciesmight arise to prevent her--a street accident, a headache, bad newsof her father----

Sudden silence from Theo cut short the dismal list; and one glance athim told Paul that his hour was come indeed. For Desmond stood rigid, a dull flush burning through his tan; and his eyes looked over Paul'sshoulder towards the entrance into Room Number One. 

"My God!" he muttered hoarsely, "Here's Honor!"

Without a word Paul turned on his heel and saw how she, too, stoodspellbound, there by the doorway, her cheeks aflame, her eyes moreeloquent than she knew. Taken completely unawares, each had surprisedthe other's secret, even as Paul had foreseen. In that lightning flashof mutual recognition, the end he had wrought for, and agonised for, was achieved. Obviously they had no further need of his services--and, unnoticed by either, he passed quietly out of the room. 

For one measureless minute they remained confronting each other;scarcely daring to breathe lest they break the spell of thatpassionate unspoken avowal. Then Honor came forward slowly, like onewalking in her sleep--and the spell was gone. In two strides Desmondhad reached her and grasped her outstretched hand. 

No attempt at conventional futilities marred their supreme moment. Words seemed an impertinence in view of the overwhelming fact that hestood before her thus--his face transfigured and illumined by loveunutterable, by a discovery scarcely realised even now. 

There was so much to tell, and again, so little after all, that thereseemed no need to tell it. Yet Honor could not choose but long for thesound of his voice; and to that end she tried very gently to withdrawher hand. 

Desmond--suddenly aware that they were alone--tightened his grasp. "No--no, " he protested under his breath, "unless--you wish it. _Do_you--Honor?"

"I don't wish it, " she answered very low, and her eyes, resting onhis, had a subdued radiance as of sunlight seen through mist. 

Haloed in that radiance Desmond beheld the "infernal chap" he had beencursing for weeks; realised instantaneously all that the recognitionimplied; and, capturing both her hands, crushed them between his own. 

"Honor--my splendid Honor!"

He still spoke under his breath; and still his eyes held hers in agaze so compelling that it seemed as though he were drawing her verysoul into his own with a force that she had neither will nor power toresist. 

In that long look she knew that, for all her passionate intensity ofheart and spirit, this man, whom she had won, surpassed her in both;that in all things he rose above her--and would always rise. Andbecause she was very woman at the core, such knowledge gladdened herbeyond telling; crowned her devotion as wedded love is rarely crownedin a world honeycombed with half-heartedness in purpose and faith andlove. 

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