THE JUNGLE GIRL

by

GORDON CASSERLY

Author of _The Elephant God_, etc. 

New York

1922

CONTENTS

I. THE GREY BOARII. YOUTH CALLS TO YOUTHIII. THE LOVE-SONG OF HAR DYALIV. A CROCODILE INTERVENESV. SENTENCE OF EXILEVI. A BORDER OUTPOSTVII. IN THE TERAI JUNGLEVIII. A GIRL OF THE FORESTIX. TIGER LANDX. A POLITICAL OFFICER IN THE MAKINGXI. TRAGEDYXII. "ROOTED IN DISHONOUR"XIII. THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVEXIV. THE DEVIL DANCERS OF TUNAXV. A STRANGE RESCUE

CHAPTER I

THE GREY BOAR

 Youth's daring courage, manhood's fire, Firm seat and eagle eye, Must he acquire who doth aspire To see the grey boar die. 

 --_Indian Pigsticking Song_. 

Mrs. Norton looked contentedly at her image in the long mirror whichreflected a graceful figure in a well-cut grey habit and smart longbrown boots, a pretty face and wavy auburn hair under the sun-helmet. Then turning away and picking up her whip she left the dressing-roomand, passing the door of her husband's bedroom where he lay stillsleeping, descended the broad marble staircase of the Residency to thelofty hall, where an Indian servant in a long red coat hurried to openthe door of the dining-room for her. 

Almost at that moment a mile away Raymond, the adjutant of the 180thPunjaub Infantry, looked at his watch and called out loudly:

"Hurry up, Wargrave; it's four o'clock and the ponies will be round inten minutes. And it's a long ride to the Palace. "

He was seated at a table on the verandah of the bungalow which heshared with his brother subaltern in the small military cantonment nearRohar, the capital of the Native State of Mandha in the west of India. Dawn had not yet come; and by the light of an oil lamp Raymond waseating a frugal breakfast of tea, toast and fruit, the _chota hazri_ orlight meal with which Europeans in the East begin the day. He wasdressed in an old shooting-jacket, breeches and boots; and as he ate hiseyes turned frequently to a bundle of steel-headed bamboo spears leaningagainst the wall near him. For he and his companion were going as theguests of the Maharajah of Mandha for a day's pigsticking, as huntingthe wild boar is termed in India. 

He had finished his meal and lit a cheroot before Wargrave came yawningon to the verandah. 

"Sorry for being so lazy, old chap, " said the newcomer. "But a year'sleave in England gets one out of the habit of early rising. "

He pulled up a chair to the table on which his white-clad Mussulmanservant, who had come up the front steps of the verandah, laid a traywith his tea and toast. And while he ate Raymond lay back smoking in along chair and looked almost affectionately at him. They had beenfriends since their Sandhurst days, and during the past twelve months ofhis comrade's absence on furlough in Europe the adjutant had sorelymissed his cheery companionship. Nor was he the only one in theirregiment who had. 

Frank Wargrave was almost universally liked by both men and women, and, while unspoilt by popularity, thoroughly deserved it. He was abouttwenty-six years of age, above medium height, with a lithe and gracefulfigure which the riding costume that he was wearing well set off. Fair-haired and blue-eyed, with good though irregular features, he waspleasant-faced and attractive rather than handsome. The cheerful, good-tempered manner that he displayed even at that trying early hourwas a true indication of a happy and light-hearted disposition that madehim as liked by his brother officers as by other men who did not knowhim so well. In his regiment all the native ranks adored the youngsahib, who was always kind and considerate, though just, to them, andlooked more closely after their interests than he did his own. For, likemost young officers in the Indian Army, he was seldom out of debt; butsoldierly hospitality and a hand ever ready to help a friend in wantwere the causes rather than deliberate extravagance on his own account. Taking life easily and never worrying over his own troubles he wasalways generous and sympathetic to others, and prompter to take upcudgels on their behalf than on his own. His being a good sportsman anda smart soldier added to his popularity among men; while all women werepartial to the pleasant, courteous subaltern whom they felt to have achivalrous regard and respect for them and who was as polite andattentive to an old lady as he was to the prettiest girl. 

While admiring and liking the other sex Wargrave had hitherto been tooabsorbed in sport and his profession to have ever found time to lose hisheart to any particular member of it, while his innate respect for, andhigh ideal of, womankind had preserved him from unworthy intrigues withthose ready to meet him more than half-way. Even in the idleness of theyear's furlough in England from which he had returned the previous dayhe had remained heart-whole; although several charming girls had beenready to share his lot and more than one pretty pirate had sought tomake him her prize. But he had been blind to them all; for he was toofree from conceit to believe that any woman would concern herself withhim unasked. He had dined and danced with maid and young matron inLondon, ridden with them in the Row and Richmond Park, punted them downbackwaters by Goring, Pangbourne and the Cleveden Woods, and flirtedharmlessly with them in country houses after days with the Quorn and thePytchley, and yet come back to India true to his one love, his regiment. 

As Raymond watched him the fear of the feminine dangers in England forhis friend suddenly pricked; and he blurted out anxiously:

"I say, old chap, you haven't got tangled up with any woman at home, have you? Not got engaged or any silly thing like that, I hope?"

Wargrave laughed. 

"No fear, old boy, " he replied, pouring out another cup of tea. "Far toohard up to think of such an expensive luxury as a wife. Been too busy, too, to see much of any particular girl. "

"You had some decent sport, hadn't you?" asked his friend, with afeeling of relief in his heart. 

"Rather. I told you I'd learnt to fly and got my pilot's certificate, for one thing. Good fun, flying. I wish I could afford a 'bus of my own. Then I had some yachting on the Solent and a lot of boating on theThames. I put in a month in Switzerland, skiing and skating. "

"Did you get any hunting?"

"Yes, at my uncle's place near Desford in Leicestershire. He gave mesome shooting, too. It was all very well; but I was very envious whenthe regiment came here and you wrote and told me of the pigsticking youwere getting. I've always longed for it. It's great sport, isn't it?"

"The best I know, " cried Raymond enthusiastically. "Beats huntinghollow. You're not following a wretched little animal that runs for itslife, but a game brute that will turn on you as like as not and makeyou fight for yours. "

"It must be ripping. I do hope we'll have the luck to find plenty of pigto-day. "

"Oh, we're sure to. The Maharajah told me yesterday they have markeddown a _sounder_--that is, a herd--of wild pig in a _nullah_ about sevenmiles the other side of the city, which is two miles away, so we have aride of nine to the meet. "

"That will make it a very hard day for our ponies, won't it?" askedWargrave anxiously. "Eighteen miles there and back and the runs aswell. "

"Oh, that's all right. The Maharajah mounts us at the meet. We'll findhis horses waiting there for us. Rawboned beasts with mouths like iron, as a rule; but good goers and staunch to pig. "

"By Jove! The Maharajah must be a real good chap. "

"One of the best, " replied Raymond. "He is a man for whom I've thegreatest admiration. He rules his State admirably. He commanded his ownImperial Service regiment in the war and did splendidly. He is very goodto us here. "

"So it seems. From what I gathered at Mess last night he appears toprovide all our sport for us. "

"Yes; he arranges his shoots and the pigsticking meets for days on whichthe officers of the regiment are free to go out with him. When we cantravel by road he sends his carriages for us, lends us horses and hascamels to follow us with lunch, ice and drinks wherever we go. "

"What a good fellow he must be!" exclaimed Wargrave. "I am glad we getpigsticking here. I've always longed for it, but never have beenanywhere before where there was any, as you know. "

"It's lucky for us that the sport here is good; for without it life inRohar would be too awful to contemplate. It's the last place the Lordmade. "

"It's the hardest place to reach I've ever known, " said Wargrave. "Itwas a shock to learn that, after forty-eight hours in the train, I hadtwo more days to travel after leaving the railway. "

"How did you like that forty miles in a camel train over the saltdesert? That made you sit up a bit, eh?"

"It was awful. The heat and the glare off the sand nearly killed me. Yousay there is no society here?"

"Society? The only Europeans here or in the whole State, besides thoseof us in the regiment, are the Resident and his wife. "

"What is a Resident, exactly?"

"A Political Officer appointed by the Government of India to be a sortof adviser to a rajah and to keep a check on him if he rules his Statebadly. I shouldn't imagine that our fellow here, Major Norton, would bemuch good as an adviser to anybody. The only thing he seems to knowanything about is insects. He's quite a famous entomologist. Personallyhe's not a bad sort, but a bit of a bore. "

"What's his wife like?"

"Oh, very different. Much younger and fond of gaiety, I think. Not thatshe can get any here. She's a decidedly pretty woman. I haven't seenmuch of her; for she has been away most of the time, that the regimenthas been here. She has relatives in Calcutta and stays a lot with them. "

"I don't blame her, " said Wargrave, laughing. "Rohar must be a verydeadly place for a young woman. No amusements. No dances. No shops. Andthe only female society the wives of the Colonel and the Doctor. "

"Luckily for Mrs. Norton she is rather keen on sport and is a goodrider. You'll probably meet her to-day; for she generally comes outpigsticking with us, though she doesn't carry a spear. I've promised totake her shooting with us the next time we go. Hullo! here are theponies at last. Are you ready, Frank?"

The two officers rose, as their _syces_, or native grooms, came upbefore the bungalow leading two ponies, a Waler and an Arab. Raymondwalked over to the bundle of spears and selected one with a leaf-shapedsteel head. 

"Try this, Frank, " he said. "See if it suits you. You don't want toolong a spear. "

His companion balanced it in his hand. 

"Yes, it seems all right. I say, old chap, how does one go for the pig?Do you thrust at him?"

"No; just ride hard at him with the spear pointed and held withstiffened arm. Your impetus will drive the steel well home into him. "

Mounting their ponies they started, the _syces_ carrying the spears andfollowing them at a steady run as they trotted down the sandy roadleading to the city, where at the Palace they were to meet the Maharajahand the other sportsmen. The sky was paling fast at the coming of thedawn; and they could discern the dozen bungalows and the RegimentalLines, or barracks, comprising the little cantonment, above whichtowered the dark mass of a rocky hill crowned by the ruined walls of anold native fort. On either side of their route the country was flat andat first barren. But, as they neared the capital, they passed throughcultivation and rode by green fields irrigated from deep wells, byhamlets of palm-thatched mud huts where no one yet stirred, and on towhere the high embrasured walls of the city rose above the plain. Underthe vaulted arch of the old gateway the ponies clattered, along throughthe narrow, silent streets of gaily-painted, wooden-balconied houses, atthat hour closely shuttered, until the Palace was reached as the risingsun began to flush the sky with rose-pink. 

The guard of sepoys at the great gate saluted as the two officers rodeinto the wide, paved courtyard lined by high, many-windowed buildings. In the centre of it a group of horsemen, nobles of the State orofficials of the Palace in gay dresses and bright-coloured _puggris_, orturbans, with gold or silver-hilted swords hanging from their belts, saton their restless animals behind the Maharajah, a pleasant-faced, athletic man in a white flannel coat, riding-breeches and long, softleather boots, mounted on a tall Waler gelding. He was chatting withfour or five other officers of the Punjaubis and raised his hand to hisforehead as the newcomers rode up and lifted their hats to him. 

"Good morning, Your Highness, " said Raymond. "I hope we're not late. Letme present Mr. Wargrave of our regiment, who has just returned fromEngland. "

With a genial smile the Maharajah leant forward and held out his hand. 

"I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wargrave, " he said, "and verypleased to see you out with us to-day. Are you fond of pigsticking?"

"I've never had the chance of doing any before, Your Highness, " repliedFrank, shaking his hand. "I'm awfully anxious to try it; but, being anovice, I'm afraid I'll only be in the way. "

"I'm sure you won't, " said the Maharajah courteously. His command ofEnglish was perfect. "Pigsticking is not at all difficult; and I hearthat you are a good rider. "

He looked at his watch and then, turning in the saddle, addressedanother officer of the regiment who was chaffing Raymond for being late:

"Are we all here now, Captain Ross?"

"Yes, sir. These two lazy fellows are the last, " replied Rosslaughingly. 

"Very well, gentlemen, we'll start. "

He waved his hand; and at the signal two black-bearded _sowars_, orsoldiers of his cavalry regiment, dashed by him and out through thePalace gates at a hard-gallop, leading the way past the guard, whoturned out and presented arms as the Maharajah and the British officers, together with the crowd of nobles, officials and mounted attendants, followed at a smart pace. The city was now waking to life. From theirwindows the sleepy inhabitants stared at the party, mostly too stupefiedat that hour to recognise and salute their ruler. Pot-bellied nakedbrown babies waddled on to the verandahs to gaze thumb in mouth at theriders. Pariah dogs, nosing at the gutters and rubbish-heaps thatscented the air, bolted out of the way of the horses' hoofs. 

As the sportsmen passed out of the city gates the sun was rising abovethe horizon, the terrible Hot Weather sun of India, whose advent ushersin the long hours of gasping, breathless heat. For a mile or so theroute lay through fertile gardens and fields. Then suddenly thecultivation ended abruptly on the edge of a sandy desert that, seamedwith _nullahs_, or deep, steep-sided ravines, and dotted with tallclumps of thorny cactus, stretched away to the horizon. The road becamea barely discernible track; but the two _sowars_ cantered on, confidently heading for the spot where the fresh horses awaited theparty. 

Over the sand the riders swept, past a slow-plodding elephant lumberingback to the city with a load of fodder, by groups of tethered camels. Hares started up in alarm and bounded away, grey partridges whirred upand yellow-beaked _minas_ flew off chattering indignantly. The slightmorning coolness soon vanished; and Wargrave, soft and somewhat out ofcondition after his weeks of shipboard life, wiped his streaming faceoften before the guiding _sowars_ threw up their hands in warning andvanished slowly from sight as their sure-footed horses picked their waydown a steep _nullah_. This was the ravine in which the quarry hid. Oneafter another of the riders followed the leaders down the narrow track, trotted across the sandy, rock-strewn river-bed and climbed up the farside to where the fresh horses and a picturesque mob of wild-lookingbeaters stood awaiting them. 

Among the animals Wargrave noticed a smart grey Arab pony with aside-saddle. 

"I see Mrs. Norton intends coming out with us, " observed the Maharajahlooking at the pony. "We must wait for her. "

"It won't be for long, sir, " said Raymond, pointing to a rising trail ofdust on the track by which they had come. "I'll bet that is she. "

All turned to watch the approaching rider draw near, until they couldsee that it was a lady galloping furiously over the sand. 

"By Jove, she can ride!" exclaimed Wargrave admiringly. "I hope she'llsee the _nullah_. She's heading straight for it. "

A shouted warning caused her to pull up almost on the brink; and in afew minutes she joined the waiting group. Wargrave looked with interestat her, as she sat on her panting horse talking to the Maharajah and theother officers, who had dismounted. 

Mrs. Norton was a decidedly graceful and pretty woman. The roundedcurves of her shapely figure were set off to advantage by herriding-costume. Her eyes were especially attractive, greenish-grey eyesfringed by long black lashes under curved dark brows contrasting withthe warm auburn tint of the hair that showed under her sunhat. Hercomplexion was dazzlingly fair. Her mouth was rather large andvoluptuous with full red lips and even white teeth. Bewitching dimplesplayed in the pink cheeks. Even from a man like Wargrave, fresh fromEngland and consequently more inclined to be critical of female beautythan were his comrades, who for many months had seen so few white women, Mrs. Norton's good looks could justly claim full meed of admiration andapproval. 

Accepting Captain Ross's aid she slipped lightly from her saddle to theground and on foot looked as graceful as she did when mounted. Raymondbrought his friend to her and introduced him. 

Holding out a small and shapely hand in a dainty leather gauntlet shesaid in a frank and pleasant manner:

"How do you do, Mr. Wargrave? You are a fortunate person to have been inEngland so lately. I haven't seen it for nearly three years. Weren't yousorry to leave it?"

"Not in the least, Mrs. Norton. I'd far sooner be doing this, " he wavedhis hand towards the horses and the open desert, "than fooling aboutPiccadilly and the Park. "

"Oh, but don't you miss the gaieties of town, the theatres, the dances?And then the shops and the new fashions--but you're a man, and they'dmean nothing to you. "

The Maharajah broke in:

"Mrs. Norton, I think we had better mount. The beaters are going in; andthe _shikaris_ (hunters) tell me that the _nullah_ swarms with pig. There are at least half a dozen rideable boar in it. "

In pigsticking only well-grown boars are pursued, sows and immatureboars being unmolested. 

Ross started forward to help Mrs. Norton on to her fresh pony; butWargrave refused to surrender the advantage of his proximity to her. Soit was into his hand she put her small foot in its well-made riding-bootand was swung up by him. 

The saddles of the rest of the party had been changed on to the horsesthat the Maharajah had provided. The beaters streamed down the steepbank into the ravine which some distance away was filled with densescrub affording good cover for the quarry. Forming line they movedthrough it with shrill yells, the blare of horns, the beating oftom-toms and a spluttering fire of blank cartridges from old muskets. The riders mounted and, spear in hand, eagerly watched their progressthrough the jungle. Wargrave found himself beside Mrs. Norton; but, after exchanging a few words, he forgot her presence as, his heartbeating fast with a true sportsman's excitement, he strained his eyesfor the first sight of a wild boar. 

Suddenly, several hundred yards away, he saw a squat, dark animal emergefrom the tangled scrub and, climbing up the _nullah_ on their side, stride away over the sand with a peculiar bounding motion that remindedWargrave of a rocking-horse. All eyes were turned towards theMaharajah, who would decide whether the animal were worthy of pursuit ornot. He gazed after it for a few moments, then raised his hand. 

At the welcome signal all dashed off after the boar at a furious gallop, opening out as they went to give play for their spears. Wild withexcitement, Wargrave struck spurs to his horse, which needed no urging, being as filled with the lust of the chase as was the man on its back. Like a cavalry charge the riders thundered in a mad rush behind HisHighness, whose faster mount carried him at once ahead of the rest. Hesoon overtook the boar. Lowering his spear-point the Maharajah bentforward in the saddle; but at the last moment the pig "jinked, " that is, turned sharply at right angles to his former course, and bounded awayuntouched, while the baffled sportsman was carried on helplessly by hisexcited horse. 

Wargrave, following at some distance to the Maharajah's right rear, sawto his mingled joy and trepidation the boar only a short way in front ofhim. 

"Ride, ride hard!" cried Mrs. Norton almost alongside him. 

Frank drove his spurs in; and the gaunt, raw-boned countrybred under himsprang forward. But just as it had all but reached the quarry, thelatter jinked again and Wargrave was borne on, tugging vainly at thehorse's iron jaws. But the boar had short shrift. With a rush Rossclosed on it and before it could swerve off sent his spear deep into itsside and, galloping on, turned his hand over, drawing out the lance. Thepig was staggered by the shock but started to run on. Before it couldget up speed one of the Indian nobles dashed at it with wild yells andspeared it again. 

The thrust this time was mortal. The boar staggered on a few steps, thenstumbled and fell heavily to the ground. The hunters reined in theirsweating horses and gathered round it. 

"Not a big animal, " commented the Maharajah, scrutinising it with theeye of an expert. "About thirty-four inches high, I think. But the tusksare good. They're yours, Captain Ross, aren't they?"

"Yes, Your Highness, I think so, " replied Ross. 

Pigsticking law awards the trophy to the rider whose spear firstinflicts a wound on the boar. 

"Better luck next time, Mr. Wargrave, " said Mrs. Norton, riding up tohim. "I thought you were sure of him when he jinked away from theMaharajah. "

"To be quite candid I was rather relieved that I didn't get the chance, Mrs. Norton, " replied the subaltern. "As I've never been out after pigbefore I didn't quite know what to do. However, I've seen now that itisn't very difficult; so I hope I'll get an opportunity later. "

"You are sure to, Mr. Wargrave, " remarked the Maharajah. "There areseveral boars left in cover; and the men are going in again. "

The tatterdemalion mob of beaters was descending into the _nullah_; andsoon the wild din broke out once more. A gaunt grey boar with long andgleaming tusks was seen to emerge from the scrub and climb the far bankof the ravine, where he stood safely out of reach but in full view ofthe tantalised hunters. But a string of laden camels passing over thedesert scared him back again; and while the riders watched in eagerexcitement, he slowly descended into the _nullah_, crossed it and cameup on the near side some hundreds of yards away. 

The Maharajah raised his spear. 

"Ride!" he cried. 

"Go like the devil, Frank!" shouted Raymond, as the scurrying horsemenswept in a body over the sand and he found himself for a moment besidehis friend. "He's a beauty. Forty inches, I'll swear. Splendid tusks. "

Wargrave crouched like a jockey in the saddle as the riders raced madlyafter the boar. The Indians among them, wildly excited, brandished theirlances and uttered fierce cries as they galloped along. TheirMaharajah's speedier mount again took the lead; but even in India sportis democratic and his nobles, attendants and soldiers all tried toovertake and pass him. The white men, as is their wont, rode in silencebut none the less keenly excited. Over sand and stones, past tall, prickly cactus-plants, in hot pursuit all flew at racing speed. 

It was a long chase; for the old grey boar was speedy, cunning, and amaster of wiles. First one pursuer, then another, then a third and afourth, found himself almost upon the quarry and bent down withoutstretched, eager spear only to be baffled by a swift jink and carriedon helplessly, pulling vainly at the reins. 

At length a sudden turn threw out all the field except the Maharajah, who had foreseen it and ridden off to intercept the now tiring boar. Overtaking it he bent forward and wounded it slightly. The bruteinstantly swung in upon his horse, and with a fierce grunt dashed underit and leapt up at it with a toss of the head that gave an upward thrustto the long, curved tusk. In an instant the horse was ripped open andbrought crashing to the ground, pinning its rider's leg to the earthbeneath it. The boar turned again, marked the prostrate man, and with asavage gleam in its little eyes charged the Maharajah, its gleamingivory tusks, six inches long, as sharp and deadly as an Afridi's knife. 

CHAPTER II

YOUTH CALLS TO YOUTH

But at that moment a shout made the boar hesitate, and Raymond dashed inon it at racing speed, driving his spear so deeply into its side that, as he swept on, the tough bamboo broke like match-wood. The strickenbeast tottered forward a yard or two, then turned and stood undauntedlyat bay, as a _sowar_ rode at it. But before his steel could touch itshide it shuddered and sank to the ground dead. 

The dying horse was lifted off the Maharajah who, with the courage ofhis race, had remained calm in the face of the onrushing death. He wasassisted to rise, but was so severely shaken and bruised that at firsthe was unable to stand without support. Leaning on the arm of one of hisnobles he held out his hand to Raymond, when the latter rode up, andthanked him gratefully for his timely aid. Then the exhausted butgallant prince sat down on the sand to recover himself. But he assuredeveryone that he was not hurt and, insisting that the sport should goon, gave orders for the beat to continue. 

Wargrave had chanced to dismount to tighten the girth of Mrs. Norton'shorse, when a fresh boar broke from cover and was instantly pursued byall the others of the hunt. The subaltern ruefully accepted the lady'sapologies and hurriedly swung himself up into the saddle again tofollow, when his companion cried:

"Look! Look, Mr. Wargrave! There's another. Come, we'll have him all toourselves. "

And striking her pony with her gold-mounted whip she dashed off at agallop after a grey old boar that had craftily kept close in cover andcrept out quietly after the beaters had passed. Wargrave, filled withexcitement, struck spurs to his mount and raced after her, soon catchingup and passing her. Over the sand pitted with holes and strewn withloose stones they raced, the boar bounding before them with rockingmotion and leading them in a long, stern chase. Again and again thebeast swerved; but at last with a fierce thrill Wargrave felt the steelhead of the spear strike home in the quarry. As he was carried on pastit he withdrew the weapon, then pulled his panting horse round. The boarwas checked; but the wound only infuriated him and aroused his fightingardour. He dashed at Mrs. Norton; but, as Frank turned, the game bruterecognised the more dangerous adversary, and with a fierce grunt chargedsavagely at him. Wargrave plunged his spurs into his horse, which sprangforward, just clearing the boar's snout, as the rider leant well out andspeared the pig through the heart. Then with a wild, exultant whoop thesubaltern swung round in the saddle and saw the animal totter forwardand collapse on the sand. Only a sportsman could realise his feeling oftriumph at the fall of his first boar. 

Mrs. Norton was almost as excited as he, her sparkling eyes and faceflushed a becoming pink, making her even prettier in his eyes as sherode up and congratulated him. 

"Well done, Mr. Wargrave!" she cried, trotting up to where he sat on hispanting horse over the dead boar. "You did that splendidly! And the veryfirst time you've been out pigsticking, too!"

"It was just luck, " replied the subaltern modestly, not ill-pleased ather praise. 

"What a glorious run he gave us!" she continued. "And we had it all toourselves, which made it better. I'm always afraid of the Maharajah'sfollowers, for in a run they ride so recklessly and carry their spearsso carelessly that it's a wonder they don't kill someone every time. Will you help me down, please? I must give Martian a rest after thatgallop. "

With Wargrave's aid she dropped lightly to the ground; and he remarkedagain with admiration the graceful lines and rounded curves of herfigure as she walked to the dead boar and touched the tusks. 

"What a splendid pair! You are lucky, " she exclaimed. "The biggestanyone has got yet this season. "

"I hope you'll allow me to offer them to you, " said Wargrave generously, although it cost him a pang to surrender the precious trophy. "Youdeserve them, for you rode so well after the boar and I believe you'dhave got him if you'd carried a spear. "

"No, indeed, Mr. Wargrave; I wouldn't dream of taking them, " shereplied, laughing; "but I appreciate the nobility of your self-denial. This is your first pig; and I know what that means to a man. Now we mustfind a _sowar_ to get the coolies to bring the boar in. But I wonderwhere we are. Where is everyone?"

Wargrave looked about him and for the first time realised that they werefar out in the desert without a landmark to guide them. On every sidethe sand stretched away to the horizon, its flat expanse broken only byclumps of bristling cactus or very rarely the tall stem of a palm tree. Of the others of the party there was no sign. His companion and heseemed to be alone in the world; and he began to wonder apprehensivelyif they were destined to undergo the unpleasant experience of being lostin the desert. The sun high overhead afforded no help; and Wargraveremembered neither the direction of the city nor where lay the ravine inwhich the beat had taken place. 

"You don't happen to know where we are, I suppose, Mrs. Norton?" heasked his companion. 

"I haven't the least idea. It looks as if we're lost, " she repliedcalmly. "We had better wait quietly where we are instead of wanderingabout trying to find our way. When we are missed the Maharajah willprobably send somebody to look for us. "

"I daresay you're right, " said Wargrave. "You know more about the desertthan I do. By Jove, I'd give anything to come across the camel thatRaymond tells me brings out drinks and ice. My throat is parched. Aren'tyou very thirsty?"

"Terribly so. Isn't the heat awful?" she exclaimed, trying to fanherself with the few inches of cambric and lace that represented ahandkerchief. 

"Awful. The blood seems to be boiling in my head, " gasped the subaltern. "I've never felt heat like this anywhere else in India. But, thankgoodness, it seems to be clouding over. That will make it cooler. "

Mrs. Norton looked around. A dun veil was being swiftly drawn up oversun and sky and blotting out the landscape. 

"Good gracious! There's worse trouble coming. That's a sandstorm, " shecried, for the first time exhibiting a sign of nervousness. 

"Good heavens, how pleasant! Are we going to be buried under a mound ofsand, like the pictures we used to have in our schoolbooks of caravansoverwhelmed in the Sahara?"

Mrs. Norton smiled. 

"Not quite as bad as that, " she answered. "But unpleasant enough, Iassure you. If only we had any shelter!"

Wargrave looked around desperately. He had hitherto no experience ofdesert country; and the sudden darkness and the grim menace of theapproaching black wall of the sandstorm seemed to threaten disaster. Hesaw a thick clump of cactus half a mile away. 

"We'd better make for that, " he said, pointing to it. "It will serve tobreak the force of the wind if we get to leeward of it. Let's mount. "

He put her on her horse and then swung himself up into the saddle. Together they raced for the scant shelter before the dark menaceoverspreading earth and sky. The sun was now hidden; but that brought norelief, for the heat was even more stifling and oppressive than before. The wind seemed like a blast of hot air from an opened furnace door. 

Pulling up when they reached the dense thicket of cactus with its broadgreen leaves studded with cruel thorns, Wargrave jumped down and liftedMrs. Norton from the saddle. The horses followed them instinctively, asthey pressed as closely as they could to the shelter of the inhospitableplant. The animals turned their tails towards the approaching storm andinstinctively huddled against their human companions in distress. Wargrave took off his jacket and spread it around Mrs. Norton's head, holding her to him. 

With a shrill wail the dark storm swept down upon them, and a millionsharp particles of sand beat on them, stinging, smothering, chokingthem. The horses crowded nearer to the man, and the woman clung tighterto him as he wrapped her more closely in the protecting cloth. He feltsuffocated, stifled, his lungs bursting, his throat burning, while everybreath he drew was laden with the irritating sand. It penetrated throughall the openings of his clothing, down his collar, inside his shirt, into his boots. The heat was terrific, unbearable, the darkness intense. Wargrave began to wonder if his first apprehensions were not justified, if they could hope to escape alive or were destined to be buried underthe stifling pall that enveloped them. He felt against him the soft bodyof the woman clinging desperately to him; and the warm contact thrilledhim. A feeling of pity, of tenderness for her awoke in him at thethought that this young and attractive being was fated perhaps to perishby so awful a death. And instinctively, unconsciously, he held hercloser to him. 

For minutes that seemed hours the storm continued to shriek and roarover and around them. But at length the choking waves began to diminishin density and slowly, gradually, the deadly, smothering pall was liftedfrom them. The black wall passed on and Wargrave watched it moving awayover the desert. The storm had lasted half an hour, but the subalternbelieved its duration to have been hours. The fine grit had penetratedinto the case of his wrist-watch and stopped it. A cool, refreshingbreeze sprang up. Pulling his jacket off Mrs. Norton's head, Wargravesaid:

"It's all over at last. "

"Oh, thank God!" she exclaimed fervently, standing erect and drawing adeep breath of cool air into her labouring lungs. "I thought I was goingto be smothered. "

"It was a decidedly unpleasant experience and one I don't want to tryagain. My throat is parched; I must have swallowed tons of sand. Andlook at the state I'm in!"

He was powdered thick with it, clothes, hair, eyebrows, grey with it. Ithad caked on his face damp with perspiration. 

"Thanks to your jacket I've escaped pretty well, although I was almostsuffocated, " she said. "Well, now that it is over surely someone willcome to look for us. "

"Then we had better get up on our horses and move out into the open. We'll be more visible, " said Wargrave. 

Yet he felt a strange reluctance to quit the spot; for the thought cameto him that their unpleasant experience in it would henceforth be a linkbetween them. A few hours before he had not known of this woman'sexistence! and now he had held her to his breast and tried to protecther against the forces of Nature. The same idea seemed born in her mindat the same time; for, when he had brushed the dust off her saddle andlifted her on to it, she turned to look with interest at the spot asthey rode away from it. 

They had not long to wait out in the open before they saw three or fourriders spread over the desert apparently looking for them, so theycantered towards them. As soon as they were seen by the search party a_sowar_ galloped to meet them and, saluting, told them that theMaharajah and the rest had taken refuge from the storm in a village acouple of miles away. Then from the _kamarband_, or broad clothencircling his waist like a sash, he produced two bottles of soda-waterwhich he opened and gave to them. The liquid was warm, but neverthelesswas acceptable to their parched throats. 

They followed their guide at a gallop and soon were being welcomed bythe rest of the party in a small village of low mud huts. A couple ofkneeling camels, bubbling, squealing and viciously trying to biteeveryone within reach, were being unloaded by some of the Maharajah'sservants. Other attendants were spreading a white cloth on the ground bya well under a couple of tall palm-trees and laying on it an excellentcold lunch for the Europeans, with bottles of champagne standing insilver pails filled with ice. 

As soon as his anxiety on Mrs. Norton's account was relieved by herarrival, His Highness, who as an orthodox Hindu could not eat with hisguests, begged them to excuse him and, being helped with difficulty onhis horse, rode slowly off, still shaken and sorely bruised by his fall. His nobles and officials accompanied him. 

After lunch all went to inspect the heap of slain boars laid on theground in the shade of a hut. Wargrave's kill had been added to it. Muchto the subaltern's delight its tusk proved to be the longest and finestof all; and he was warmly congratulated by the more experiencedpigstickers on his success. Shortly afterwards the beaters went into the_nullah_ again; and a few more runs added another couple of boars to thebag. Then, after iced drinks while their saddles were being changed backon to their own horses, the Britishers mounted and started on theirhomeward journey. 

Without quite knowing how it happened Wargrave found himself ridingbeside Mrs. Norton behind the rest of the party. On the way back theychatted freely and without restraint, like old friends. For theincidents of the day had served to sweep away formality between them andto give them a sense of long acquaintanceship and mutual liking. And, when the time came for Mrs. Norton to separate from the others as shereached the spot where the road to the Residency branched off, thesubaltern volunteered to accompany her. 

It had not taken them long to discover that they had several tastes incommon. 

"So you like good music?" she said after a chance remark of his. "It ispleasant to find a kindred spirit in this desolate place. The ladies andthe other officers of your regiment are Philistines. Ragtime is more intheir line than Grieg or Brahms. And the other day Captain Ross asked meif Tschaikowsky wasn't the Russian dancer at the Coliseum in town. "

Wargrave laughed. 

"I know. I became very unpopular when I was Band President and made ourband play Wagner all one night during Mess. I gave up trying to elevatetheir musical taste when the Colonel told me to order the bandmaster to'stop that awful rubbish and play something good, like the selectionfrom the last London _revue_. '"

"Are you a musician yourself?" she asked. 

"I play the violin. "

"Oh, how ripping! You must come often and practise with me. I've anexcellent piano; but I rarely touch it now. My husband takes no interestin music--or indeed, in anything else I like. But, then, I am notthrilled by his one absorbing passion in life--insects. So we're quits, I suppose. "

Their horses were walking silently over the soft sand; and Wargraveheard her give a little sigh. Was it possible, he wondered, that thehusband of this charming woman did not appreciate her and herattractions as he ought?

She went on with a change of manner:

"When are you coming to call on me? I am a Duty Call, you know. Allofficers are supposed to leave cards on the Palace and the Residency. "

"The call on you will be a pleasure, I assure you, not a mere duty, Mrs. Norton, " said the subaltern with a touch of earnestness. "May I cometo-morrow?"

"Yes, please do. Come early for tea and bring your violin. It will bedelightful to have some music again. I have not opened my piano formonths; but I'll begin to practise to-night. I have one or two pieceswith violin _obligato_. "

So, chatting and at every step finding something fresh to like in eachother, they rode along down sandy lanes hemmed in by prickly aloehedges, by deep wells and creaking water-wheels where patient bullockstoiled in the sun to draw up the gushing water to irrigate the greenfields so reposeful to the eye after the glaring desert. They passed bythatched mud huts outside which naked brown babies sprawled in the dustand deer-eyed women turned the hand-querns that ground the flour fortheir household's evening meal. Stiff and sore though Wargrave was afterthese many hours of his first day in the saddle for so long, hethoroughly enjoyed his ride back with so attractive a companion. 

When they reached the Residency, a fine, airy building of white stonestanding in large, well-kept grounds, he felt quite reluctant to partwith her. But, declining her invitation to enter, he renewed his promiseto call on the following day and rode on to his bungalow. 

When he was alone he realised for the first time the effects of fatigue, thirst and the broiling heat of the afternoon sun. But Mrs. Norton wasmore in his thoughts than the exciting events of the day as he trottedpainfully on towards his bungalow. 

The house was closely shut and shuttered against the outside heat, andRaymond was asleep, enjoying a welcome _siesta_ after the early startand hard exercise. Wargrave entered his own bare and comfortlessbedroom, and with the help of his "boy"--as Indian body-servants aretermed--proceeded to undress. Then, attired in a big towel and slippers, he passed into the small, stone-paved apartment dignified with the titleof bathroom which opened off his bedroom. 

After his ablutions Wargrave lay down on his bed and slept for an houror two until awakened by Raymond's voice bidding him join him at tea. Strolling in pyjamas and slippers into the sitting-room which theyshared the subaltern found his comrade lying lazily in a long chair andattired in the same cool costume. The outer doors and windows of thebungalow were still closed against the brooding heat outside. Inside thehouse the temperature was little cooler despite the _punkah_ whichdroned monotonously overhead. 

Over their tea the two young soldiers discussed the day's sport, recalling every incident of each run and kill, until the servants camein to throw open the doors and windows in hope of a faint breath ofevening coolness. The _punkah_ stopped, and the coolie who pulled itshuffled away. 

After tea Raymond took his companion to inspect the cantonment, whichWargrave had not yet seen, for he had not reached it until after duskthe previous day. It consisted only of the Mess, the Regimental Office, and about ten bungalows for the officers, single-storied brick orrubble-walled buildings, thatched or tiled. Some of them were unoccupiedand were tumbling in ruins. There was nothing else--not even the"general shop" usual in most small cantonments. Not a spool of thread, not a tin of sardines, could be purchased within a three days' journey. Most of the food supplies and almost everything else had to be broughtfrom Bombay. Around the bungalow the compounds were simply patches ofthe universal sands surrounded by mud walls. No flowers, no trees, noteven a blade of grass, relieved the dull monotony. Altogether thecantonment of Rohar was an unlovely and uninteresting place. Yet it isbut an example of many such stations in India, lonely andsoul-deadening, some of which have not even its saving grace of sport toenliven existence in them. 

After a visit to the Lines--the rows of single-storied detached brickbuildings, one to a company, that housed the native ranks of theregiment--where the Indian officers and sepoys (as native infantrysoldiers are called) rushed out to crowd round and welcome back theirpopular officer, Wargrave and Raymond strolled to the Mess. Here in theanteroom other British officers of the corps, tired out after the day'ssport, were lying in easy chairs, reading the three days' old Bombaynewspaper just arrived and the three weeks' old English journals untilit was time to return to their bungalows and dress for dinner. 

Early on the following afternoon Wargrave borrowed Raymond's bamboo cartand pony--for he had sold his own trap and horses before going on leaveto England and had not yet had time to buy new ones--and drove to theResidency. When he pulled up before the hall-door and in Anglo-Indianfashion shouted "Boy!" from his seat in the vehicle, a tall, statelyIndian servant in a long, gold-laced red coat reaching below the kneesand embroidered on the breast with the Imperial monogram in gold, cameout and held a small silver tray to him. Wargrave placed a couple of hisvisiting cards on it, and the gorgeous apparition (known as a_chuprassi_) retired into the building with them. While he was goneWargrave looked with pleasure at the brilliant flower-beds, green lawnand tall plants and bushes glowing with colour of the carefully-tendedand well-watered Residency garden, which contrasted strikingly with thedry, bare compounds of the cantonment. 

In a minute or two the _chuprassi_ returned and said:

"Salaam!"

Wargrave, hooking up the reins, climbed down from the trap, leavingRaymond's _syce_ in charge of the pony, and entered the gratefulcoolness of the lofty hall. Here another _chuprassi_ took his hat and, holding out a pen for him, indicated the red-bound Visitor's Book, inwhich he was to inscribe his name. Then one of the servants led the wayup the broad staircase into a large and well-furnished drawing-roomextending along the whole front of the building. Here Wargrave foundMrs. Norton awaiting him. She looked very lovely in a cool white dressof muslin--but muslin shaped by a master-hand of Paris. She welcomed himgaily and made him feel at once on the footing of an old friend. 

She was genuinely glad to see him again. To this young and attractivewoman, full of the joy of living, hardly more than a girl, yet marriedto a much older man, sober-minded, stolid and uncongenial to her, andburied in this dull and lonely station, Wargrave had appealed instantly. Youth calls to youth, and she hailed his advent into her monotonous lifeas a child greets the coming of a playfellow. With the other two ladiesin Rohar she had nothing in common. Both were middle-aged, serious andspiteful. To them her youth and beauty were an offence; and from thefirst day of their acquaintance with her they had disliked her. As forthe other officers of the regiment none of them attracted her; for, goodfellows as they were, none shared any of her tastes except her love ofsport. But in Wargrave she had already recognised a companion, aplaymate, one to whom music, art and poetry appealed as they did to her. 

On his side Frank, heart-whole but fond of the society of the oppositesex, was at once attracted by this charming member of it who had tastesakin to his own. Her beauty pleased his beauty-loving eye; and he wouldnot have been man if her readiness to meet him on a footing offriendship had not flattered him. He had thought that a great drawbackto life in Rohar would be the lack of feminine companionship; for theladies of his regiment were not at all congenial, although he did notdislike them. But it was delightful to find in this desert spot thispretty and cultured woman, who would have been deemed attractive inLondon and who appeared trebly so in a dull and lonely Indian station. He had thought much of her since their meeting on the previous day; andalthough it never occurred to him to lose his heart to her or evenattempt to flirt with her, yet he felt that her friendship wouldbrighten existence for him in Rohar. Nor did the thought strike himthat possibly he might come to mean more to Mrs. Norton than she to him. For, while he had his work, his duties, the goodfellowship of the Messand the friendship of his comrades to fill his life, she had nothing. She was utterly without interests, occupation or real companionship inRohar. Her husband and she had nothing in common. No child had comeduring the five years of their marriage to link them together. And inthis solitary place where there were no gaieties, no distractions suchas a young woman would naturally long for, she was lonely, very lonelyindeed. 

It was little wonder that she snatched eagerly at the promise of aninteresting friendship. Wargrave stood out and apart from the otherofficers of the regiment; and his companionship during the uncomfortableincident of the sandstorm bulked unaccountably large in her mind. Itseemed to denote that he was destined to introduce a new element intoher life. 

As they talked it was with increasing pleasure that she learnt they hadso many tastes in common. She found that he played the violin well andwas, moreover, the possessor of a voice tuneful and sympathetic, even ifnot perfectly trained. This made instant appeal to her and would havedisposed her to regard him with favour even if she had not been alreadyprepared to like him. 

The afternoon passed all too quickly for both of them. Violet Nortonhad never enjoyed any hours in Rohar so much as these; and when, as shesat at the piano while Frank played an _obligato_, a servant came toenquire if she wished her horse or a carriage got ready for her usualevening ride or drive, she impatiently ordered him out of the room. Whenthe time came for Wargrave to return to his bungalow to dress for dinnershe begged him to stay and dine with her. 

"I shall be all alone; and it would be a charitable act to take pity onmy solitude, " she said. "My husband is dining at your Mess to-night. "

"Thank you very much for asking me, " replied the subaltern. "I shouldhave loved to accept your invitation; but it is our Guest Night and theColonel likes all of us to be present at Mess on such evenings. "

"Oh, I forgot!" she exclaimed. "I ought to have remembered; for Mr. Raymond told me the same thing only last week when I invited himinformally. Well, you must come some other night soon. "

Reluctant to part with her new playmate she accompanied him to the doorand, to the scandal of the stately _chuprassis_, stood at it to watchhim drive away and to wave him a last goodbye as he looked back when thepony turned out of the gate. 

India is a land of lightning friendships between men and women. 

CHAPTER III

THE LOVE-SONG OF HAR DYAL

The bugler was sounding the second mess-call as the Resident's carriagedrew up before the steps of the Mess verandah on which stood all theofficers of the regiment, dressed in the white drill uniform worn atdinner in India during the hot weather. From the carriage Major Norton, a stout, middle-aged man in civilian evening dress, descended stifflyand shook hands with the Commandant of the battalion, Colonel Trevor, who had come down the steps to meet him and whose guest he was to be. 

On the verandah Wargrave was introduced to him by the Colonel and tookhis outstretched hand with reluctance; for Frank felt stirring in him afaint jealousy of the man who was Violet's legal lord and an indefinitehostility to him for not appreciating his charming wife as he ought. Andwhile the Resident was shaking hands with the others Wargrave looked athim with interest. 

Major Norton was a very ordinary-looking man, more elderly in appearancethan his years warranted. He was bald and clean-shaved but for scraps ofside-whiskers that gave him a resemblance to the traditionalstage-lawyer of amateur theatricals, a likeness increased by his heavyand prosy manner. It was hard to believe that he had ever been a youngsubaltern, though such had once been the case, for the Indian PoliticalDepartment is recruited chiefly from officers of the Indian Army. But hewas never the gay and light-hearted individual that most junior subs. Are at the beginning of their career. Even then he had been a sober andserious individual, favourably noted by his superiors as being earnestand painstaking. And now he was well thought of by the Heads of hisDepartment; for his plodding and methodical disposition and his slavishadherence to rules and regulations had earned him the reputation ofbeing an eminently "safe" man. How such a gay, laughter-loving, coquettish and attractive woman as Violet Dering came to marry one soentirely her opposite puzzled everyone who did not know the innerhistory of a girl, one of a large family of daughters, given "her chancein life" by being sent out to relatives in Calcutta for one season, witha definite warning not to return home unmarried under penalty of beingturned out to face the world as a governess or hospital nurse. AndViolet liked comfort and hated work. 

During dinner Wargrave found himself instinctively criticising Norton'smanner and conversation, and rapidly arrived at the conclusion thatRaymond had described him accurately. The Resident, though a very worthyindividual, was undoubtedly a bore; and Colonel Trevor, beside whom hesat, strove in vain to appear interested in his conversation. For he hadheard his opinions on every subject on which Norton had any opinionsover and over again. As the Resident was the only other European in thestation he dined regularly at the Mess on the weekly Guest Night withone or other of the officers. He was not popular among them, but theyconsidered it their duty to be victimised in turn to uphold theregiment's reputation for hospitality; and in consequence each resignedhimself to act as his host. 

After dinner, as the Resident played neither cards nor billiards, theColonel sat out on the verandah with him, all the while longing to be atthe bridge-table inside; and, as his guest was a strict teetotaller, hedid not like to order a drink for himself. So he tried to keep awake andhide his yawns while listening to a prosy monologue on insects until theResidency carriage came to take Major Norton away. 

When his guest had left, the Colonel entered the anteroom heaving a sighof relief. 

"Phew! thank God that's over!" he exclaimed piously. "Really, Nortonbecomes more of a bore every day. I'm sick to death of hearing thelife-story of every Indian insect for the hundredth time. I'll dream of_coleoptera_ and Polly 'optera and other weird beasties to-night. "

The other officers looked up and laughed. Ross rose from thebridge-table and said:

"Come and take my place, sir; we've finished the rubber. Have a drink;you want something to cheer you up after that infliction. Boy!whiskey-soda Commanding Sahib _ke wasté lao_. (Bring a whiskey and sodafor the Commanding officer. )"

"You've my entire sympathy, Colonel, " said Major Hepburn, the Second inCommand. "It's my turn to ask the Resident to dinner next. I feeltempted to go on the sick-list to escape it. "

"I say, sir, I've got a good idea, " said an Irish subaltern named Daly, who was seated at the bridge-table. "Couldn't we pass a resolution atthe next Mess meeting that in future no guests are ever to be asked todinner? That will save us from our weekly penance. "

The others laughed; but the Colonel, whose sense of humour was not hisstrong point, took the suggestion as being seriously meant. 

"No, no; we couldn't do that, " he said in an alarmed tone. "The Residentwould be very offended and might mention it to the General when he comeshere on his annual inspection. "

The remark was very characteristic of Colonel Trevor, who was a man whodreaded responsibility and whose sole object in life was to reach safelythe time when, his period of command being finished, he could retire onhis full pension. He was always haunted by the dread that somecarelessness or mistake on his part or that of any of his subordinatesmight involve him in trouble with his superiors and prevent that happyconsummation of his thirty years of Indian service. This fear made himmerciless to anyone under him whose conduct might bring the censure ofthe higher authorities on the innocent head of the Commanding Officerwho was in theory responsible for the behaviour of his juniors. It wascommonly said in the regiment that he would cheerfully give up his ownbrother to be hanged to save himself the mildest official reprimand. Perhaps he was not altogether to blame; for he was not his own master inprivate life. It was hinted that Colonel Trevor commanded the battalionbut that Mrs. Trevor commanded him. And unfortunately there was no doubtthat this lady interfered privately a good deal in regimental matters, much to the annoyance of the other officers. 

Now, relieved of the incubus that had hitherto spoiled his enjoyment ofthe evening, the Colonel gratefully drank the whiskey and soda broughthim by Ross's order and sat down cheerfully to play bridge. He alwaysliked dining in the Mess, where he was a far more important person thanhe was in his own house. 

It did not take Wargrave long to settle down again into the routine ofregimental life and the humdrum existence of a small Indian station. Buthe had never before been quartered in so remote and dull a spot asRohar. The only distractions it offered besides the shooting andpigsticking were two tennis afternoons weekly, one at the Residency, theother at the Mess. Here the dozen or so Europeans, who knew every lineof each other's faces by heart gathered regularly from sheer boredomwhether the game amused them or not. Neither Mrs. Trevor nor herbosom-friend Mrs. Baird, the regimental surgeon's better half, everattempted it; but they invariably attended and sat together, usuallytalking scandal of Mrs. Norton as she played or chatted with the men. Mrs. Trevor's chief grievance against her was that the GeneralCommanding the Division, when he came to inspect the battalion, took theyounger woman in to dinner, for, as her husband the Resident was theViceroy's representative, she could claim precedence over the wife of amere regimental commandant. No English village is so full of pettysquabbles and malicious gossip as a small Indian station. 

Like everyone else in the land Wargrave hated most those terrible hoursof the hot weather between nine in the morning and five in theafternoon. He and Raymond passed them, like so many thousands of theirkind elsewhere, shut up in their comfortless bungalow, which wasdarkened and closely shuttered to exclude the awful heat and theblinding glare outside. Too hot to read or write, almost to smoke, theylay in long cane chairs, gasping and perspiring freely, while thewhining _punkah_ overhead barely stirred the heated air. One exteriorwindow on the windward side of the bungalow was filled with a thick matof dried and odorous _kuskus_ grass, against which every quarter of anhour the _bheestie_ threw water to wet it thoroughly so that the hotbreeze that swept over the burning sand outside might enter cooled bythe evaporation of the water. 

But Frank found alleviation and comfort in frequent visits to theResidency, where Mrs. Norton and he spent the baking hours of theafternoon absorbed in making music or singing duets. For Violet had awell-trained voice which harmonised well with his. No thought of sexseemed to obtrude itself on them. They were just playmates, comrades, nothing more. 

Yet it was only natural that the woman's vanity should be flattered bythe man's eagerness to seek her society and by his evident pleasure init. And it was delightful to have at last a sympathetic listener to allher little grievances, one who seemed as interested in her pettyhousehold worries or the delinquencies of her London milliner in failingto execute her orders properly as in her greater complaint against thefate that condemned a woman of her artistic and gaiety-loving nature toexistence in the wilds and to the society of persons so uncongenial toher as were the majority of the white folk of Rohar. 

To a man the rôle of confidant to a pretty woman is pleasant andflattering; and Wargrave felt that he was highly favoured by being madethe recipient of her confidences. It never occurred to him that theremight be danger in the situation. He regarded her only as a friend inneed of sympathy and help. His chivalry was up in arms at the thoughtthat she was not properly appreciated by her husband, who, he began tosuspect, was inclined to neglect her and treat her as a mere chattel. The suspicion angered him. True, Violet had never definitely told himso; but he gathered as much from her unconscious admissions and reveredher all the more for her bravery in endeavouring to keep silent on thesubject. 

Certainly Major Norton did not seem to him to be a man capable ofunderstanding and valuing so sweet and rare a woman as this. After theirintroduction in the Mess Frank's next meeting with him was at his owntable at the Residency, when in due course Wargrave was invited todinner after his duty call. Raymond was asked as well; and the twosubalterns were the only guests. 

Their hostess looked very lovely in a Paris-made gown of a green shadethat suited her colouring admirably. England did not seem to the youngsoldiers so very far away when this charming and exquisitely-dressedwoman received them in her large drawing-room from which all trace ofthe East in furniture and decoration was carefully excluded. For theEnglish in India try to avoid in their homes all that would remind themof the Land of Exile in which their lot is cast. 

Major Norton came into the room after his guests, muttering anunintelligible apology. He shook hands with them with an abstracted airand failed to recall Wargrave's name. At table he asked Frank a fewperfunctory questions and then wandered off into his inevitable subject, entomology, but finding him ignorant of and uninterested in it heengaged in a desultory conversation with Raymond. He soon tired of thisand for the most part ate his dinner in silence. He never addressed hiswife; and Wargrave, watching them, pitied her if her husband was aslittle companionable at meal-times when they were alone. He pictured hersitting at table every day with this abstracted and uncommunicative man, whose thoughts seemed far from his present company and surroundings andwho was scarcely likely to exert himself to talk to and entertain hiswife when he made so little effort to do so to his guests. 

Determined that on this occasion at least his hostess should be amusedFrank did his best to enliven the meal. He described to her as well ashe could all that he remembered of the latest fashions in England, toldher the plots of the newest plays at the London theatres, repeated afew laughable stories to make her smile and provoked Raymond, who had adry humour of his own, to a contest of wit. Between them the twosubalterns brightened up what had threatened to be a dull evening. Mrs. Norton laughed gaily and helped to keep the ball rolling; and even thehost in his turn woke up and actually attempted to tell a humorousstory. It certainly lacked point; but he seemed satisfied that it wasfunny, so his guests smiled as in duty bound. But Wargrave noted Mrs. Norton's look of astonishment at this new departure on the part of herhusband and thought that there was something very pathetic in hersurprise. When the meal was ended she laughingly declined to leave themen over their wine and stayed to smoke a cigarette with them. 

When they all quitted the dining-room the Resident asked his guests toexcuse him for returning to his study, pleading urgent and importantwork; and his wife led the subalterns up to the drawing-room and out onto the verandah that ran alongside its French windows. Here easy chairsand a table with a big lamp had been placed for them. As soon as theywere seated one of the stately _chuprassis_ brought coffee, whileanother proffered cigars and cigarettes and held a light from a silverspirit-lamp. Then both the solemn servitors departed noiselessly on barefeet. 

After some conversation Mrs. Norton said to the adjutant:

"Do you remember, Mr. Raymond, that you have promised to take me outshooting one day?"

"I haven't forgotten, " he replied; "but I was not able to arrange it, asthe Maharajah had pigsticking meets fixed up for all our free days. ButI don't think we'll have another for some time; for I hear that HisHighness is laid up from the effects of his fall. So we might go outsome day soon. "

"Good. When shall we go?" asked Wargrave. "Let's fix it up now. "

"What about next Thursday?" said his friend, turning to Mrs. Norton. 

"Yes; that will suit me. Where shall we go?"

"There are a lot of partridge and a few hares, I'm told, near the tankat Marwa, where there is a good deal of cultivation, " answered Raymond. Then turning to his friend he continued:

"You are not very keen on small game shooting, Frank; so you can bringyour rifle and try for _chinkara_. I saw a buck and a couple of doethere not very long ago. A little venison would be very acceptable inMess. "

"The tank is about eight miles away, isn't it?" said the hostess. "I'llwrite to the Maharajah and ask him to lend us camels to take us out. Mycook will put up a good cold lunch for us. "

She rose from her chair and continued:

"Now, Mr. Wargrave, come and sing something. I've been trying overthose new songs of yours to-day. "

She led the way into the drawing-room and Raymond was left alone on theverandah to smoke and listen for the rest of the evening, while theothers forgot him as they played and sang. 

Suddenly he sat up in his chair and with a queer little pang of jealousyin his heart stared through the open window at the couple at the piano. He watched his friend's face turned eagerly towards his hostess. Wargrave was gazing intently at her as in a voice full of feeling andpathos, a voice with a plaintive little tone in it that thrilled himstrangely, she sang that haunting melody "The Love Song of Har Dyal. "Wistfully, sadly, she uttered the sorrowful words that Kipling puts intothe mouth of the lovelorn Pathan maiden:

 "My father's wife is old and harsh with years, And drudge of all my father's house am I. My bread is sorrow and my drink is tears, Come back to me, Beloved, or I die! Come back to me, Beloved, or I die!"

And the singer looked up into the eager eyes bent on her and sighed alittle as she struck the final chords. Out on the verandah Raymondfrowned as he watched them and wondered if this woman was to comebetween them and take his friend from him. Just then the bare-footedservants entered the room, carrying silver trays on which stood thewhiskies and sodas that are the stirrup-cups, the hints to guests thatthe time of departure has come, of dinner-parties in India. 

As the two subalterns drove home in Raymond's trap through the hotIndian night under a moon shining with a brilliance that England neverknows, Wargrave hummed "The Love Song of Har Dyal. "

Suddenly he said:

"She's wonderful, Ray, isn't she? Fancy such a glorious woman buried inthis hole and married to a dry old stick like the Resident! Doesn't itseem a shame?"

The adjutant mumbled an incoherent reply behind his lighted cheroot. 

Arrived in their bungalow they undressed in their rooms and in pyjamasand slippers came out into the compound, where on either side of a tableon which was a lighted lamp stood their bedsteads, the mattress of eachcovered with a thin strip of soft China matting. For in the hot weatherin many parts of India this must be used to lie upon instead of a linensheet, which would become saturated with perspiration. Looking carefullyat the ground over which they passed for fear of snakes they reached andlay down on their beds, over each of which a _punkah_ was suspended froma cross-beam supported by two upright posts sunk in the ground. One ropemoved both _punkahs_, and the motive power was supplied by a cooliewho, salaaming to the sahibs and seating himself on the ground, pickedup the end of the rope and began to pull. Raymond put out the lamp. 

Wargrave stared up at the moon for a while. Then he said:

"I say, Ray; didn't Mrs. Norton look lovely to-night? Didn't that dresssuit her awfully well?"

"Oh, go to sleep, old man. We've got to get up in a few hours for thisconfoundedly early parade. Goodnight, " growled the adjutant, turning onhis side and closing his eyes. 

But he listened for some time to his friend humming "The Love Song ofHar Dyal" again! and not until Frank was silent did he doze off. An hourlater he woke up suddenly, bathed in perspiration and devoured bymosquitoes; for the _punkahs_ were still--the coolie had gone to sleep. He called to the man and aroused him, then before shutting his eyesagain he looked at his companion. The moon shone full on Wargrave'sface. He was sleeping peacefully and smiling. Raymond stared at him fora few minutes. Then he muttered inconsequently:

"Confound the woman!"

And closing his eyes resolutely he fell asleep. 

In the days that elapsed before the shoot at Marwa, Wargrave rode everyafternoon to the Residency with the _syce_ carrying his violin case, except when tennis was to be played. In their small community thiscould not escape notice and comment--not that it occurred to him to tryto avoid either. The Resident did not object to the frequency of hisvisits; and Frank saw no harm in his friendship with Mrs. Norton. Butothers did; and the remarks of the two ladies of his regiment on thesubject were venomously spiteful. But their censure was reserved for theone they termed "that shameless woman"; for like everyone else they werepartial to Wargrave and held him less to blame. 

His brother officers, although being men they were not so quick to noseout a scandal, could not help noticing his absorption in Mrs. Norton'ssociety. One afternoon his Double Company Commander, Major Hepburn, walked into the compound of Raymond's bungalow and on the verandahshouted the usual Anglo-Indian caller's demand:

"Boy! _Koi hai_?" (Is anyone there?)

A servant hurried out and salaaming answered:

"_Adjitan Sahib hai_. " (The adjutant is here). 

"Oh, come in, Major, " cried Raymond, rising from the table at which hewas seated drinking his tea. 

"Don't get up, " said Hepburn, entering the room. "Is Wargrave in?"

"No, sir; he went out half an hour ago. "

"Confound it, it seems impossible ever to find him in the afternoonnowadays, " said the major petulantly. "I wanted him to get up a hockeymatch against No. 3 Double Company to-day. He used to be very keen onplaying with the men; but since he came back from England he never goesnear them. Where is he? Poodlefaking at the Residency, as usual?"

This is the term contemptuously applied in India to the paying of callsand other social duties that imply dancing attendance on the fair sex. 

"I didn't see him before he went out, sir, " was Raymond's equivocalreply. He loyally evaded a direct answer. 

Hepburn shook his head doubtfully. 

"I'm sorry about it. I hope the boy doesn't get into mischief. Lookhere, Raymond, you're his pal. Keep your eye on him. He's a good lad;and it would be a pity if he came to grief. "

The adjutant did not answer. The major put on his hat. 

"Well, I suppose I'll have to see to the hockey myself. "

He left the bungalow with a curt nod to Raymond, who watched him passout through the compound gate. Then the adjutant walked over toWargrave's writing-table and stood up again in its place a largephotograph of Mrs. Norton which he had hurriedly laid face downwardswhen he heard Hepburn's voice outside. He looked at it for a minute, then turned away frowning. 

When the morning of the shooting party arrived Wargrave and Raymond, having sent their _syces_ on ahead with their guns, rode at dawn to theResidency. In front of the building a group of camels lay on the ground, burbling, blowing bubbles, grumbling incessantly and stretching outtheir long necks to snap viciously at anyone but their drivers thatchanced to come near them. At the hall-door Mrs. Norton stood, dressedin a smart and attractive costume of khaki drill, consisting of awell-cut long frock coat and breeches, with the neatest of cloth gaitersand dainty but serviceable boots. To their surprise her husband was withher and evidently prepared to accompany them. For he wore an old coat, knickerbockers and putties, from a strap over his shoulder hung aspecimen box, and he was armed with all the requisite appliances for thecapture and slaughter of many insects. 

Avoiding the camels' vicious teeth the party mounted after exchanginggreetings. Mrs. Norton and Wargrave rode the same animal; and Frank, unused to this form of locomotion, took a tight grip as the long-leggedbeast rose from the ground in unexpected jerks and set off at a joltingwalk that shook its riders painfully. Then it broke into a trot equallydisconcerting but finally settled into an easy canter that was ascomfortable a motion as its previous paces had been spine-dislocating. The route lay at first over a space of desert which was unpleasant, forthe sand was blown in clouds by a high wind, almost a gale. But thecamels were fast movers and it did not take very long before they werepassing through scrub jungle and finally reached the wide stretch ofcultivation near Marwa. 

The tank, as lakes are called in India, lay in the centre of a shallowdepression, the rim of which all round was about four hundred yards fromthe water which, now half a mile across, evidently filled the wholebasin in the rainy season. The strong breeze churned its surface intolittle waves and piled up masses of froth and foam against the bendingreeds at one end of the tank, where, about fifty yards from the water'sedge stood a couple of thorny trees, offering almost the only shade tobe found for a long distance around. In the shallows were many yellowegrets, while a _sarus_ crane stalked solemnly along the far bank, andeverywhere bird-life, rare elsewhere in the State, abounded. The landall about was green, a refreshing change from the usual sandy andparched character of most of the country. 

But beyond the tank the fields stretched away out of sight. At the edgeof the cultivation the camels were halted and the party dismounted fromthem and separated. Mrs. Norton, who was a fair shot and carried a light12-bore gun, started to walk up the partridges with Raymond, while herhusband went to search the reeds and the borders of the lake for strangeinsects. Wargrave armed with a sporting Mannlicher rifle, set off on along tramp to look for _chinkara_, which are pretty little antelope withcurving horns. The wind, which was freshening, prevented the heat frombeing excessive. 

The sport was fairly good. When lunch-time came the adjutant and Mrs. Norton had got quite a respectable bag of partridges and a few hares. The entomologist was in high spirits, for he had secured two rarespecimens; and Wargrave had shot a good buck. So in a contented frame ofmind all gathered under the trees near the end of the tank, where lunchwas laid by a couple of the Residency servants on a white cloth spreadon the ground. As they ate their _tiffin_ (lunch) the members of theparty chatted over the incidents of the morning; and each related thestory of his or her sport. 

After the meal Mrs. Norton decided to rest; for the ride and the longwalk with her gun had tired her. The servants spread a rug for her underthe trees and placed a camel saddle for her to recline against. Thencarrying away the empty dishes, plates, glasses and cutlery they retiredout of sight. 

"Are you sure you don't mind being left alone, Mrs. Norton?" askedWargrave. 

"Not in the least. Do go and shoot again, " she replied, smiling up athim. "I'm very comfortable and I'm glad to have a good rest beforeundertaking that tiresome ride back. It's very pleasant here. The windcomes so cool and fresh off the water. Isn't it strong, though?"

The breeze had freshened to a gale and under the trees the temperaturewas quite bearable. The Resident had already gone out of sight over therim of the basin, having exhausted the neighbourhood of the tank andbeing desirous of searching farther afield. Wargrave and Raymond nowfollowed him but soon separated, the latter making for the cultivationagain, while his friend set off for the open plain. Ordinarily the heatwould have been intense, for the hours after noon up to three o'clock orlater are the hottest of the day in India; but the gale made it quitecool. 

To Wargrave, tramping about unsuccessfully this time, came frequentlythe sound of Raymond's gun. 

"Ray seems to be having all the luck, " he thought, as through hisfield-glasses he scanned the plain without seeing anything. "I'm gettingfed up. "

At last in despair he shouldered his rifle and turned back. After a longwalk he came in sight of the adjutant standing near the edge of thefields talking to Norton. When Frank reached them he found that hisfriend had increased his bag very considerably. 

"Well done, old boy, you'd better luck than I had, " he said. Thenturning to the Resident he continued: "How have you done, sir?"

"Nothing of any value, " replied Norton "Have you finished? We'rethinking of going back now. "

"Yes, sir; I'm through. By Jove, I'm thirsty. I could do with a drink, couldn't you, Ray?"

"Rather. My throat's like a lime-kiln. We'll join Mrs. Norton and thenhave an iced drink while the camels are being saddled. "

They strolled towards the lake, which was hidden from their view by therim of the basin. As they reached the slight ridge that this made allthree stopped dead and gazed in amazement. 

"What's happened to the tank?" exclaimed Raymond. "The water's almost upto the trees. "

"Good God; My wife! Look! Look!" cried the Resident. 

They stood appalled. The wide body of water had swept up to within a fewyards of the trees under which Mrs. Norton lay fast asleep. Andstealthily emerging from it a large crocodile was slowly, cautiously, crawling towards the unconscious woman. 

CHAPTER IV

A CROCODILE INTERVENES

Major Norton opened his mouth to cry a warning; but Wargrave grasped hisarm and said hurriedly:

"Don't shout, sir! Don't wake her! She'd be too confused to move. "

Then he thrust his field-glasses into the adjutant's hand. 

"Watch for the strike of my bullet, Ray, " he said. 

He threw himself at full length on the ground and pressed a cartridgeinto the breech of his rifle. His companions stood over him as he cast ahurried glance forward and adjusted his sight, muttering:

"Just about four hundred yards. "

The crocodile was nearly broadside on to him; and even at that distancehe could see the scaly armour covering head, back and sides, that woulddefy any bullet. The unprotected spot behind the shoulder was hiddenfrom him; the only vulnerable part was the neck. Wargrave laid his cheekto the butt and sighted on this. 

The crocodile crept on inch by inch, dragging its limbs forward with theslow, stealthy movement of its kind when stalking their prey on land. The horrified watchers saw that the terrible snout with its protrudingfangs was barely a yard from Mrs. Norton's feet. Raymond's hands holdingthe glasses to his eyes trembled violently. The Resident shook as withthe palsy; and he stared in horror at the crawling death that threatenedthe sleeping woman. 

Wargrave fired. 

As the rifle rang out the creeping movement ceased. 

"You've hit him, I'll swear, " cried Raymond. "I didn't see the bulletstrike the ground. "

Wargrave rapidly worked the bolt of his rifle, jerking out the emptycase and pushing a fresh cartridge into the chamber. He fired again. 

"That's got him! That _must_ have got him!" exclaimed Raymond. 

The crocodile lay still. Frank leapt to his feet and, rifle in hand, dashed down the incline. At that moment Mrs. Norton awoke, turned on herside, raised her body a little and suddenly saw the horrible reptile. She sat up rigid with terror and stared at it. The brute slowly openedits huge mouth and disclosed the cruel, gapped teeth. Then the iron jawsclashed together. With a shriek the woman sprang to her feet, but stoodtrembling, unable to move away. 

"Run! Run!" shouted Wargrave, springing down the slope towards her. 

Behind him raced Raymond, while her husband, who was unable to runfast, followed far behind. 

Mrs. Norton seemed rooted to the spot. But she turned to Wargrave withoutstretched arms and gasped:

"Save me, Frank! Save me!"

With a bound he reached her, and, as she clung to him convulsively, panted out:

"It's all right, dear. You're safe now. "

He pushed her behind him, and bringing the rifle to his shoulder, facedthe crocodile. The brute opened and shut its great jaws, seeming to gaspfor air, while a strange whistling sound came from its throat. Its bodyappeared to be paralysed. 

"It can't move. You've broken its spine, " cried Raymond, as he reachedthem. "Your first shot it must have been. Look! Your second's torn itsthroat. "

He pointed to the neck and went round to the other side. From a jagged, gaping wound where the expanding bullet had torn the throat, the bloodspurted and air whistled out with a shrill sound. 

Wargrave turned to Violet and took the terrified woman, who seemed onthe point of fainting, in his arms. 

"All right, little girl. It's all right. The brute's done for. "

She pulled herself together with an effort and looked nervously at thecrocodile. Then she released herself from Frank's clasp and said, smiling feebly:

"What a coward I am! I'm ashamed of myself. Where's John? Oh, here heis. Doesn't he look funny?"

The Resident, very red-faced and out of breath, had slowed down into ashambling walk and was puffing and blowing like a grampus. As he came upto them he spluttered:

"Is it safe? Is it dead?"

"It's harmless now, sir, " answered Raymond. "It's still living but itcan't move. The spine's broken, I think. "

The Resident turned to his wife. The poor man had been in agony whileshe was in danger; but now that the peril had passed he could onlyexpress his relief in irritable scolding:

"How could you be so foolish, Violet?" he asked crossly. "The idea ofgoing to sleep near the tank! Most unwise! You might have been eatenalive. "

His wife smiled bitterly and glanced at the grumbling man with acontemptuous expression on her face. 

"Yes, John, very inconsiderate of me, I daresay. But how was I to knowthat there was a _mugger_ (crocodile) in the tank?"

Then for the first time she realised the nearness of the water. 

"Good gracious! I thought I was much farther--how did I get so close toit? Did I slip down in my sleep?"

"No; there are the trees, " said Raymond. "It's extraordinary. The wholetank seems to have shifted. "

The Resident was mopping his bald scalp and lifted his hat to let thegusty wind cool his head. A sudden squall blew the big pith sun-helmetout of his hand. Wargrave caught it in the air and returned it to itsowner. 

"By Jove! it's a regular gale, " he said. "I think I know what'shappened. This wind's so strong that it's blown the water of the tankbefore it and actually shifted the whole mass thirty or forty yards thisway. "

"Yes, I've known that to occur before with shallow ponds, " said Raymond. "I've heard the passage of the Red Sea by the Israelites and thedrowning of Pharaoh's Army explained in the same way. It's said that thecrossing really took place at one extremity of the Bitter Lake throughwhich the Suez Canal passes. "

Major Norton was staring at the far end of the tank now left bare. 

"There may be some interesting insects stranded on the bottom uncoveredby the receding water, " he said, abstractedly, and was moving away tosearch for them when Wargrave said disgustedly:

"Don't you think, sir, that, as Mrs. Norton has had such a shock, thesooner we get off the better?"

"Yes, yes. Very true. But you can order the camels to be saddled whileI'm having a look, " replied the enthusiastic collector. "I really mustgo and see. There may be some very interesting specimens there. "

And he hurried away. His wife smiled rather bitterly as he went. Thenshe turned to the two subalterns. 

"But tell me what happened? How did the _mugger_ come here? How was Isaved?"

Raymond rapidly narrated what had taken place. Violet looked at Wargravewith glistening eyes and held out her hands to him. 

"So you saved my life. How can I thank you?" she said gratefully. Herlips trembled a little. 

Frank took her hands in his but answered lightly:

"Oh, it was nothing. Anyone else would have done the same. I happened tobe the only one with a rifle. "

Raymond turned away quickly and walked over to the crocodile. Neither ofthem took any notice of him. Violet gazed fondly at Wargrave. 

"I owe you so much, Frank, so very much, " she murmured in a low voice. "You've made my life worth living; and now you make me live. "

He was embarrassed but he pressed the hands he held in his. Then hereleased them and tried to speak lightly. 

"Shall I have the _mugger_ skinned and get a dressing-bag made out ofhis hide for you?" he said, smiling. "That'd be a nice souvenir of thebrute. "

She shuddered. 

"I don't want to remember him, " she cried, turning to glance at thecrocodile. "Horrid beast! I can't bear the sight of him. "

The _mugger_ certainly looked a most repulsive brute as it lay stretchedon the ground, its jaws occasionally opening and shutting spasmodically, the blood from its wounded throat spreading in a pool on the sun-bakedearth. It was evidently an old beast; and skull and back were coveredwith thick horny plates and bosses through which no bullet couldpenetrate. The big teeth studded irregularly in the cruel jaws wereyellow and worn, as were the thick nails tipping the claws at the endsof the powerful limbs. 

"The devil's not dead yet. Shall I put another bullet into him?" saidWargrave. 

"It's only wasting a cartridge, " replied his friend. "He can't do anymore harm. When the men come we'll have him cut open and see what he'sgot inside him. "

Violet shuddered. 

"Oh, do you think he has ever eaten any human being?" she asked, gazingwith loathing at the huge reptile. 

"Judging from the way he stalked you I should think he has, " answeredRaymond. "Hullo! here comes one of the camel-drivers with some of thevillagers. They'll be able to tell us about him. "

On the rim of the basin appeared a group of natives moving in theirdirection. Suddenly they caught sight of the crocodile, stopped andpointed to it and began to talk excitedly. One of the local peasants ranback shouting. The rest hurried down for a closer view of the reptile. Achorus of wonder rose from them as they stood round it. The Mahommedancamel-driver exclaimed in Hindustani:

"_Ahré, bhai! Kiya janwar! Pukka shaitan!_ (Ah, brother! What an animal!A veritable devil!)"

As the villagers spoke only the dialect of the State, Raymond used thisman as interpreter and questioned them about the crocodile. Theyasserted that it had inhabited the tank for many years--hundreds, saidone man. It had, to their certain knowledge, killed several womenincautiously bathing or drawing water from the tank. As women are notvalued highly by the poorer Hindus this did not make the _mugger_ veryunpopular. But early in that very year it had committed the awful crimeof dragging under water and devouring a Brahmini bull, an animal devotedto the Gods and held sacrosanct. 

By this time the crocodile had breathed its last. Raymond measured itroughly and found it to be over twelve feet in length. The peasantsturned the great body on its back. Wargrave saw that the skinunderneath was too thick to be made into leather, so he bade them cutthe belly open. The stomach contained many shells of freshwater crabsand crayfish, as well as a surprising amount of large pebbles, eithertaken for digestive purposes or swallowed when the fish were beingscooped up off the bottom. But further search resulted in the finding ofseveral heavy brass or copper anklets and armlets, such as are worn byIndian women. Some had evidently been a long time in the reptile'sinterior. 

When the camels had come and the party was preparing to mount and startback home, a crowd of villagers, led by their old priest, bore down uponthem. Learning that Frank was the slayer of the sacrilegious crocodilethe holy man hung a garland of marigolds round his neck and through theinterpreter offered him the thanks of gods and men for his good deed. And to a chorus of blessings and compliments he rode away with hiscompanions. 

So ended the incident--apparently. But consequences undreamed of by anyof the actors in it flowed from it. For imperceptibly it brought achange into the relations between Mrs. Norton and Wargrave andeventually altered them completely. At first it merely seemed tostrengthen their friendship and increase the feeling of intimacy. ToViolet--they were Violet and Frank to each other now--the saving of herlife constituted a bond that could never be severed. He had preservedher from a horrible death and she owed Wargrave more than gratitude. 

Hitherto she had often toyed with the idea of him as a lover, and thethought had been a pleasant one. But it had hardly occurred to her to bein love with him in return. In all her life up to now she had neverknown what it was to really love. She had married without affection. Hergirlhood had been passed without the mildest flirtation; for she hadbeen brought up in a quiet country village where there never seemed tobe any bachelors of her own class between the ages of seventeen andfifty. Even the curate was grey-haired and married. She had made up forthis deprivation during the voyage out to India and her season inCalcutta; but, although she had found many men ready to flirt with her, Norton's proposal was the only serious one that she had had and sheaccepted him in desperation. She had never felt any love for him. Shedid not realise that he had any for her; for, although he reallyentertained a sincere affection of a kind for her, it was so seldom andso badly expressed that she was never aware of its existence. Since hermarriage she had had several careless flirtations during her visits toher relatives in Calcutta; but her heart was not seriously affected. 

She never acknowledged to herself that any gratitude or loyalty was duefrom her to her husband. On the contrary she felt that she owed him, aswell as Fate, a grudge. She was young, warmblooded, of a passionatetemperament, yet she found herself wedded to a man who apparently neededa housekeeper, not a wife. Her husband did not appear to realise that awoman is not essentially different to a man, that she has feelings, desires, passions, just as he has--although by a polite fiction theprudish Anglo-Saxon races seem to agree to regard her as of a morespiritual, more ethereal and less earthly a nature. Yet it is only afiction after all. Violet was a living woman, a creature of flesh andblood who was not content to be a chattel, a household ornament, a pieceof furniture. It was not to be wondered at that she longed to enter intowoman's kingdom, to exercise the power of her sex to sway the other andto experience the thrill of the realisation of that power. Often in herloneliness she pined to see eyes she loved look with love into hers. Shewas not a marble statue. It was but natural that she should long forLove, a lover, the clasp of strong arms, the pressure of a man's broadchest against her bosom, the feel of burning kisses on her lips, theglorious surrender of her whole being to some adored one to whom she wasthe universe, who lived but for her. 

Now for the first time in her life her errant dreams took concreteshape. At last she began to feel the companionship of a particular mannecessary for her happiness. She had never before realised thepleasure, the joy, to be derived from the presence of one of theopposite sex who was in sympathy, in perfect harmony with her nature. 

In her lonely hours--and they were many--she thought constantly ofWargrave; his face was ever before her, his voice sounding in her ears. She usually saw her husband--absorbed in his work and studies--only atmeals; and as she looked across the table at him then she could not helpcontrasting the heavy, unattractive man sitting silent, usually readinga book while he ate, with the good-looking, laughter-loving playfellowwho had come into her life. She learned to day-dream of Wargrave, towatch for his coming and hate his going, to enjoy every moment of hispresence. He had brought a new interest into her hitherto purposelesslife, the life that he had preserved and that consequently seemed tobelong to him. New feelings awakened in her. The world was a brighter, happier place than it had been. It pleased her to realise what it allmeant, to know that the novel sensations, the fluttering hopes andfears, the strange, delightful thrills, were all symptoms of thatlonged-for malady that comes sooner or later to all women. She knew atlast that she loved Wargrave and gloried in the knowledge. And she neverdoubted that he loved her in return. 

Did he? It was hard to tell. To a man the thought of Love in theabstract seldom occurs; and the realisation of the concrete fact thathe is in love with some particular woman generally comes somewhat as ashock. He is by nature a lover of freedom and in theory at least resentsfetters, even silken ones. And Wargrave had never thought of analysinghis feelings towards Violet. He was not a professional amorist and, although not a puritan, would never set himself deliberately to makelove to a married woman under her husband's roof. He was fond of Mrs. Norton--as a sister, he thought. She was a delightful friend, a realpal, so understanding, so companionable, he said to himself frequently. It had not occurred to him that his feelings for her might be love. Hehad often before been on terms of friendship with women, married andsingle; but none of them had ever attracted him as much as she did. Hehad never felt any desire to be married; domesticity did not appeal tohim. But now, as he watched Violet moving about her drawing-room orplaying to him, he found himself thinking that it would be pleasant toreturn to his bungalow from parade and find a pretty little wife waitingto greet him with a smile and a kiss--and the wife of his dreams alwayshad Violet's face, wore smart well-cut frocks like Violet's, and showedjust such shapely, silken-clad legs and ankles and such small feet indainty, silver-buckled, high-heeled shoes. And he thought with an inwardgroan that such a luxury was not for a debt-ridden subaltern like him, that his heavily-mortgaged pay would not run to expensive gowns, silkstockings and costly footwear. 

Yet it never occurred to him that Violet cared for him nor did it enterhis mind to try to win her love. But he felt that he would do much tomake her happy, that saving her life made him in a way responsible forit in future; and he knew that she was not a contented woman. Hissympathy went out to her for what he guessed she must suffer from herill-assorted union. 

But soon he had no need to surmise it; for before long Violet began toconfide all her sorrows to him and the recital made his heart bleed forone so young and beautiful mated to a selfish wretch who was as blind toher suffering as he was to her charm. The younger man's chivalry was upin arms, and he felt that such a boor did not deserve so bright a jewel. At times Frank was tempted to confront the callous husband and force himto open his dulled eyes to the bravely-borne misery of his neglectedwife and realise how fortunate he ought to consider himself in being theowner of such a transcendent being. But the next moment the infatuatedyouth was convinced that Norton was incapable of appreciating so rare awoman, that only a nature like his own could understand or do fulljustice to the perfections of hers. Such is a young man's conceit. Herejoiced to know that his poor sympathy could help in a measure to makeup to Violet for the happiness that she declared that she had missed inlife. And so he gladly consented to play the consoler; and she, for thepleasure of being consoled, continued to pour out her griefs to him. 

But if Frank was unconscious of the danger of his post as sympathisingconfidant to another man's young and pretty wife, others were not. Herhusband, of course, was as blind as most husbands seem to be inAnglo-Indian society. For in that land of the Household of Three, theEternal Triangle, it is almost a recognised principle that every marriedwoman who is at all attractive is entitled to have one particularbachelor always in close attendance on her, to be constantly at her beckand call, to ride with her, to drive her every afternoon to tennis orgolf or watch polo, then on to the Club and sit with her there. Hisduty, a pleasant one, no doubt, is to cheer up her otherwise solitarydinner in her bungalow on the nights when her neglectful husband isdining out _en garçon_. No _cavaliere servente_ of Old Italy ever had sobusy a time as the Tame Cat of the India of to-day. And the husbandallows it, nay seems, as Major Norton did, to hail his presence withrelief, as it eases the conscience of the selfish lord and master wholeaves his spouse much alone. 

But if the Resident saw no harm or danger in the young officerconstantly seeking the society of his pretty wife others did. At firstFrank's well-wishers tried to hint to him that there was likelihood ofhis friendship with her being misunderstood. But he laughed atRaymond's badly-expressed warning and rather resented Major Hepburn'skindly advice when on one occasion his Company Commander spoke plainly, though tactfully, to him on the subject. Then Violet's enemies took ahand in the game. Mrs. Trevor, having failed to decoy him to herbungalow for what she called "a quiet tea and a motherly little chat, "cornered him one afternoon when he was on his way to the Residency andspoke very openly to him of the risk he ran of being entangled in thecoils of such an outrageous coquette as "that Mrs. Norton, " as shetermed her. Frank was so indignant at her abuse of his friend that forthe first time in his life he was rude to a woman and snubbed Mrs. Trevor so severely that she went in a rage to her husband and insistedon his taking immediate steps to arrest the progress of a scandal that, she declared, would attract the unfavourable attention of the highermilitary authorities to the regiment. 

"Do you realise, William, that you will be the one to suffer?" said theangry woman. "If anything happens, if Major Norton complains, if thatshameless creature succeeds in making that foolish young man run awaywith her, you will be blamed. You can't afford it. You know that theGeneral's confidential report on you last year was not too favourable. "

"It wasn't really bad, my dear; it only hinted that I lacked decision, "pleaded the hen-pecked man. 

"Exactly. You are not firm enough, " persisted his domestic tyrant. "Theywill say that you should have put your foot down at once and stoppedthis disgraceful affair. "

"But what can I do?" asked the Colonel helplessly. 

"Someone ought to speak to Major Norton at once. "

"Oh, my dear Jane, I couldn't. I daren't. "

"For two pins I'd do it myself. Mrs. Baird said the other day that itwas our duty as respectable women. "

"No, no, no, Jane. You mustn't think of it, " exclaimed the alarmed man. "I forbid you. You mustn't mix yourself up in the affair. It would becommitting me. "

"Then send that impertinent young man away, " said Mrs. Trevor firmly. NoGeneral would have accused _her_ of lack of decision. "I used to have ahigh opinion of him once; but after his insolence to me I believe him tobe nearly as bad as that woman. "

"Where can I send him?" asked the worried Colonel. "He has done all thecourses and passed all the classes and examinations he can. "

"You know you have only to write confidentially to the Staff and informthem that young Wargrave's removal to another station is absolutelynecessary to prevent a scandal; and they'll send him off somewhere elseat once. "

Her husband nodded his head. He was well aware of the fact that the Armyin India looks closely after the behaviour and morals of its officers, that a colonel has only to hint that the transfer of a particularindividual under his command is necessary to stop a scandal--and withoutloss of time that officer finds himself deported to the other side ofthe country. 

One morning, a week after Mrs Trevor's conversation with her husband, Wargrave, superintending the musketry of his Double Company on the riflerange, was given an official note from the adjutant informing him thatthe Commanding Officer desired to see him at once in the Orderly Room. As Major Hepburn was not present Frank handed the men over to the seniorIndian company commander and rode off to the Regimental Office, wondering as he went what could be the reason of the sudden summons. Reaching the building he found Raymond on the watch for him, whileostensibly engaged in criticising to the battalion _durzi_ (tailor) thefit of the new uniforms of several recruits. 

"I say, Ray, what's up?" asked his friend cheerily, as he swung himselfout of the saddle. 

The adjutant nodded warningly towards the Orderly Room and dropped hisvoice as he replied:

"I don't know, old chap. The C. O. 's said nothing to me; but he's inthere with Hepburn trying to work himself up into a rage so that he canbully-rag you properly. You'd better go in and get it over. "

Wargrave entered the big, colour-washed room. The Colonel was seated athis desk, frowning at a paper before him, and did not look up. MajorHepburn was standing behind his chair and glanced commiseratingly at thesubaltern. 

Frank stood to attention and saluted. 

"Good morning, sir, " he said. "You wanted to see me?"

Colonel Trevor did not reply, but turning slightly in his chair, said:

"Major Hepburn, call in the adjutant, please. "

As the Second in Command went out on the verandah and summoned Raymond, Wargrave's heart misgave him. He had no idea of what the matter was; butthe Colonel's manner and the presence of the Second in Command wereominous signs. He wondered what crime he was going to be charged with. 

"Shut the doors, Raymond, " said the Commanding Officer curtly, as theadjutant entered. The latter did so and sat down at his writing-table, glancing anxiously at his friend. 

Colonel Trevor's lips were twitching nervously; and he seemed toexperience a difficulty in finding his voice. At last he took up apaper from his desk and said:

"Mr. Wargrave, this is a telegram just received from Western Army HeadQuarters. It says 'Lieutenant Wargrave is appointed to No. 12 Battalion, Frontier Military Police. Direct him to proceed forthwith to report toO. C. Detachment, Ranga Duar, Eastern Bengal. '"

CHAPTER V

SENTENCE OF EXILE

At the words of the telegram Raymond started and Frank stared inbewilderment at the Colonel. 

"But I never asked for the Military Police, sir, " he exclaimed. "I----"

The Colonel licked his dry lips and, working himself up into a passion, shouted:

"No, you didn't. But I did. I applied for you to be sent to it. I askedfor you to be transferred from this station. You can ask yourself thereason why. I will not tolerate conduct such as yours, sir. I will nothave an officer like you under my command. "

Frank flushed deeply. 

"I beg your pardon, sir. I don't understand. I really don't know whatI've done. I should----"

But the Colonel burst in furiously:

"He says he doesn't know what he's done, Major Hepburn. Listen to that!He does not know what he's done"; and the speaker pounded on the deskwith his clenched fist, working himself up into a rage, as a weak manwill do when he has to carry out an unpleasant task. 

"But, sir, surely I have a right----, " began Wargrave, clenching hishands until the nails were almost driven into his palms in an effort tokeep his temper. 

"I cannot argue the question with you, Wargrave, " said the Colonelloftily. "You have got your orders. Headquarters approve of my action. Ihave discussed the matter with my Second in Command, and he agrees withme. You can go. Raymond, make out the necessary warrants for Mr. Wargrave's journey and give him an advance of a month's pay. He willleave to-morrow. Tell the Quartermaster to make the necessaryarrangements. "

Frank bit his lip. His years of discipline and the respect for authorityengrained in him since his entrance to Sandhurst kept the mutinous wordsback. He saluted punctiliously and, turning about smartly walked out ofthe Orderly Room. In the glaring sunshine he strode out of the compoundand down the white, dusty road to his bungalow, his brain in a whirl, blind to everything, seeing neither the sepoys saluting him nor his_syce_ hurrying after him and dragging the pony by the bridle. 

When he reached his house he entered the sitting-room and dropped into achair. His "boy" approached salaaming and asked if he should go to theMess to order the Sahib's breakfast to be got ready. Wargrave waved himaway impatiently. 

He sat staring unseeingly at the wall. He could not think coherently. Hefelt dazed. His bewildered brain seemed to be revolving endlessly roundthe thought of the telegram from Headquarters and the Colonel's words "Iwill not have an officer like you under my command. " What was themeaning of it all? What had he done? A pang shot through him at thesudden remembrance of Colonel Trevor's assertion that Major Hepburnagreed with him. Frank held the Second in Command in high respect, forhe knew him to be an exceptionally good soldier and a gentleman in everysense of the word. Had he so disgraced himself then that Hepburnconsidered the Colonel's action justified? But how?

He shifted uneasily in his chair and his eyes fell on Mrs. Norton'sportrait. At the sight of it his Company Commander's advice to him abouther and Mrs. Trevor's spiteful remarks flashed across his mind. CouldViolet be mixed up in all this? Was his friendship with her perhaps thecause of the trouble? He dismissed the idea at once. There was nothingto be ashamed of in their relations. 

A figure darkened the doorway. It was Raymond. Wargrave sprang up andrushed to him. 

"What in Heaven's name is it all about, Ray?" he cried. "Is the Colonelmad?"

The adjutant took off his helmet and flung it on the table. 

"Well, tell me. What the devil have I done?" said his friendimpatiently. 

Raymond tried to speak but failed. 

"Go on, man. What is it?" cried Wargrave, seizing his arm. 

The adjutant burst out:

"It's a damned shame, old man. I'm sorry. "

"But what is it? What is it, I say?" cried Wargrave, shaking him. 

The adjutant nodded his head towards the big photograph on thewriting-table. 

"It's Mrs. Norton, " he said. 

"Mrs. Norton?" echoed his friend. "What the--what's she got to do withit?"

Raymond threw himself into a chair. 

"Someone's been making mischief. The C. O. 's been told that there mightbe a scandal so he's got scared lest trouble should come to him. "

Frank stared blankly at the speaker, then suddenly turned and walked outof the bungalow. The pony was standing huddled into the patch of shadeat the side of the house, the _syce_ squatting on the ground at its headand holding the reins. Wargrave sprang into the saddle and galloped outof the compound. Raymond ran to the verandah and saw him thundering downthe sandy road that led to the residency. 

Arrived at the big white building Frank pulled up his panting pony onits haunches and dismounting threw the reins over its head and left itunattended. 

Walking to the hall door he cried:

"_Koi hai_?"

A drowsy _chuprassi_ at the back of the hall sprang up and hurried toreceive him. 

"_Memsahib hai_? (Is the mistress in?)"

"_Hai, sahib_. (Yes, sir)" said the servant salaaming. 

Wargrave was free of the house and, taking off his hat, went into thecool hall and walked up the great staircase. He entered thedrawing-room. After the blinding glare outside the closely-shutteredapartment seemed so dark that at first it was difficult for him to seeif it were tenanted or not. But it was empty; and he paced the floorimpatiently, frowning in chaotic thought. 

"Good morning, Frank. You are early to-day. And what a bad temper youseem to be in!" exclaimed a laughing voice; and Mrs. Norton, lookingradiant and delightfully cool in a thin white Madras muslin dress, entered the room. 

He went to her. 

"They're sending me away, Violet, " he said. 

"Sending you away?" she repeated in an astonished tone. "Sending youwhere?"

"To hell, I think, " he cried. "Oh, I beg your pardon. I mean--yes, they're sending me away from Rohar, from you. Sending me to the otherside of India. "

The blood slowly left her face as she stared uncomprehendingly at him. 

"Sending you away? Why?" she asked. 

"Because--because we're friends, little girl. "

"Because we're friends, " she echoed. "What do you mean? But you mustn'tgo. "

"I must. I can't help it. I've got to go. "

Pale as death Violet stared at him. 

"Got to go? To leave me?"

Then with a choking cry she threw her arms about his neck and sobbed. 

"You mustn't. You mustn't leave me. I can't live without you. I loveyou. I love you. I'll die if you go from me. "

Frank started and tried to hold her at arm's length to look into herface. But the woman clung frenziedly to him, while convulsive sobs shookher body. His arms went round her instinctively and, holding her to hisbreast, he stared blankly over the beautiful bowed head. It was true, then. She loved him. Without meaning it he had won her heart. He whoseearnest wish it had been to save her from pain, to console her, tobrighten her lonely life, had brought this fresh sorrow on her. To themisery of a loveless marriage he had added a heavier cross, an unhappy, a misplaced affection. No exultant vanity within him rejoiced at theknowledge that, unsought, she had learned to care for him. Only regret, pity for her, stirred in him. He was aware now as always that hisfeeling for her was not love. But she must not realise it. He must saveher from the bitter mortification of learning that she had given herheart unasked. His must have been the fault; he it must be to bear thepunishment. She should never know the truth. He bent down andreverently, tenderly, kissed the tear-stained face--it was the firsttime that his lips had touched her. 

"Dearest, we will go together. You must come with me, " he said. 

Violet started and looked wildly up at him. 

"Go with you? What do you mean? How can I?"

"I mean that you must come away with me to begin a new life--a happierone--together. I cannot leave you here with a man who neglects you, whodoes not appreciate you, who cannot understand you. "

"Do you mean--run away with you?" she asked. 

"Yes; it is the only thing to do. "

She slowly loosed her clasp of him and released herself from his arms. 

"But I don't understand at all. Why are you going? And where?"

He briefly told her what had happened. His face flushed darkly as herepeated the Colonel's words. 

"'He wouldn't have an officer like me under his command, ' he said. Hetreated me like a criminal. I don't value his opinion much. But MajorHepburn agrees with him. That hurts. I respect him. "

"But where is this place they're sending you to?" she asked. 

"Ranga Duar? I don't know. Eastern Bengal, I believe. "

"Bengal. What? Anywhere near Calcutta?"

"No; it must be somewhere up on the frontier. Otherwise they wouldn'tsend Military Police to garrison it. "

"But what is it like? Is it a big station?" she persisted. 

"I can't tell you. But it's sure not to be. No; it must be a small placeup in the hills or in the jungle. There's only a detachment there. "

"But what have I got to do with your being sent there?" she asked inperplexity. 

"Don't you understand? Someone's been making mischief, " he replied. "Those two vile-minded women have been talking scandal of us to theColonel. "

"What? Talking about you and me? Oh!" she exclaimed. 

His words brought home to her the fact that these bitter-tongued womenwhom she despised had dared to assail her--her, the _Burra Mem_, theGreat Lady of their little world. Had dared to? She could not silencethem. And what would they say of her, how their tongues would wag, ifshe ran away from her husband! And they would have a right to talkscandal of her then. The thought made her pause. 

"But how could I go with you to this place in Bengal? Where could Ilive?" she asked. 

"You'd live with me. "

"Oh! In your bungalow? How could I? And how would I get there?" shecontinued. "I haven't any money. I don't suppose I've got a ten-rupeenote. And I couldn't ask my husband. "

"Of course not. I would----" He paused. "By Jove! I never thought ofthat. " It had not occurred to him that elopements must be carried out ona cash basis. He had forgotten that money was necessary. And he hadnone. He was heavily in debt. The local _shroffs_--the nativemoney-lenders--would give him no more credit when they knew that he wasgoing away. All that he would have would be the one month's advance ofpay--probably not enough for Violet's fare and expenses acrossIndia--the Government provided his--and certainly not enough to supportthem for long. He frowned in perplexity. Running away with another man'swife did not seem so easy after all. 

Violet was the first to recover her normal calm. 

"Sit down and let us talk quietly, " she said. "One of the servants maycome in. Or my husband--if people are talking scandal of us. "

She touched the switch of an overhead electric fan--the Government ofIndia housed its Political Officer in Rohar much more luxuriously thanthe military ones--and sat down under it. Wargrave began to pace theroom impatiently. 

"Come, Frank, stop walking about like a tiger in a cage and let'sdiscuss things properly. "

With an effort he pulled himself together and took a chair near her. Thewoman was the more self-possessed of the two. The shock of suddenlyfinding herself up against the logical outcome of her desires hadsobered her; and, faced with the prospect of an immediate flightinvolving the abdication of her assured social position and thesurrender of a home, she was able to visualise the consequences of heractions. The most sobering reflection was the thought that by so doingshe would be casting herself to the female wolves of her world--and sheknew the extent of their mercy. There were others of her acquaintancebesides Mrs. Trevor who would howl loud with triumph over her downfall. The thought has saved many a woman from social ruin. 

Thinking only of what she had so often told him of the misery of livingwith a man as unsympathetic as her husband, Frank pleaded desperatelywith a conviction that he was far from feeling. The hard fact of thelack of sufficient money to pay for her travelling expenses, thedifficulty of getting off together from this out-of-the-way station, were not to be got over. Then the impossibility of knowing whether shecould remain with him when he was on frontier duty and of supporting heraway from him, the realisation of the fact that they would have to facethe Divorce Court with its heavy costs and probably crushing damages, all made the situation seem hopeless. In despair he sprang up andresumed his nervous pacing of the room. 

At last Violet said:

"All I can see, dearest, is that we must wait. It will be harder for methan for you. You at least will not have to live with anyone uncongenialto you. But I must. Yet I can bear it for your sake. "

He stopped before her and looked at her in admiration of her courageousand self-sacrificing spirit. Then he bent down and kissed her tenderly. Sitting beside her he discussed the situation more calmly than he hadhitherto done. It was finally agreed that he was to go alone to his newstation, save all that he could to pay off his debts--he would receive ahigher salary in the Military Police and his expenses would be less--andwhen he was free and had made a home for her Violet would sacrificeeverything for love and come to him. With almost tears in his eyes as hethought of her nobility he strained her to his heart. When the time camefor parting the woman broke down completely and wept bitterly as sheclung to him. He kissed her passionately, then with an effort put herfrom him and almost ran from the room, while she flung herself on alounge and sobbed convulsively. 

One of the Residency _syces_ had taken charge of the pony; and Wargrave, mounting it, galloped madly back to his bungalow, his heart torn withanguish for the unhappiness of the broken-hearted woman that he wasleaving behind. 

When he arrived home he found that Raymond and his own "boy" andsword-orderly (his native soldier-servant) had begun his packing forhim, for his heavy baggage had to be despatched that afternoon. Thebungalow was crowded with his brother-officers waiting to see him. Hehad intended to avoid them, for he felt disgraced by the Colonel'scensure which it was evident the Commanding Officer had not kept secret, though the whole matter should have been treated as confidential. Butthey made light of his scruples and showed him that he had theirsympathy. He had meant to dine alone in his room that night; but hiscomrades insisted on his coming to the Mess, where they were to give himan informal farewell dinner. They would take no refusal. 

Daly, who was the Acting Quartermaster of the battalion, told him thatthe arrangements for his journey had been made. He was to leave at dawnand drive sixty miles in a _tonga_--a two-wheeled native conveyancedrawn by a pair of ponies--to a village called Basedi on the shores of anarrow gulf or deep inlet of the sea which formed the eastern boundaryof the State of Mandha. Here he would have to spend the night in adâk-bungalow--or rest-house--and cross the water in a steam-launch nextmorning. After that, five days more of travel by various routes andmeans awaited him. 

Before dinner that night a few minutes apart with Hepburn made Frankhappier than he had been all day. For his Company Commander told himthat he had only agreed with the Colonel's action because he believedthat it would be for the subaltern's own good, not because he consideredthat the latter had done anything to disgrace him. Hepburn added that ifhe was given command of the regiment in two years' time--as shouldhappen in the ordinary course of events--he would be glad to haveWargrave back again in the battalion then. Frank, with a guilty feelingwhen he remembered his compact with Violet, thanked him gratefully, andwith a lightened heart went to the very festive meal that was to be hislast for some long time, at least with his old corps. 

The Colonel had refused to agree to his being invited formally to be theguest of the regiment; and neither he nor the other married man, theDoctor, were present. If they slept that night they were the only twoofficers in the Cantonment that did; for none of the others, not evensenior major, Hepburn, left the Mess until it was time to escort theirdeparting comrade to his bungalow to change for the journey. And, as the_tonga_-ponies rattled down the road and bore him away, Frank's lastsight of his old comrades was the group of white-clad figures in thedawn waving frantically and cheering vociferously from the gateway ofhis bungalow. 

The memory of it rejoiced him throughout the terrible hours of the longjourney in the baking heat and blinding glare of the Hot Weather day. The worse moments were the stops every ten miles to change ponies, whenhe had to wait in the blazing sunshine. His "boy, " who sat on the frontseat of the vehicle beside the driver, produced from a basket packedwith wet straw cooled bottles of soda-water, without which Wargrave feltthat he would have died of sunstroke. 

Then on after each halt; and the endless strip of white road againunrolled before him, while the never-ceasing clank of the iron-shod barcoupling the ponies maddened his aching head with its monotonous rhythm. 

As the weary miles slid past him his thoughts were with Violet, sobeautiful, so patient and brave in her self-denying endurance. And hecursed himself for having added to her pain, and inwardly vowed thatsome day he would atone to her for it. 

At last the _tonga_ rattled into the bare compound of the Basedidâk-bungalow standing on a high stone plinth. The untidy_khansamah_--the custodian of the rest-home--hurried on to the verandahto greet the unexpected visitor and show his "boy" where to put thesahib's bedding and baggage in a bleak room with a cane-bottomed woodenbed hung with torn mosquito-curtains. 

From a glass case in the sitting-room containing a scanty store ofcanned provisions the _khansamah_ provided a meal with such ill-assortedingredients as Somebody's desiccated soup lukewarm, a tin of sardinesand sweet biscuits to eat with them, and a bottle of beer to wash itdown with. Wargrave was too choked with dust, too sickened with the heatand glare, to have any appetite. After a smoke he dragged his weary bodyto bed and in spite of the mosquitoes that flocked joyously through theholes in the gauze curtains to feast on him slept the profound sleep ofutter exhaustion. 

He was up at daybreak; for the tide served in the early morning and onlyat its height could the launch approach the shore, which at low waterwas bordered with the filthy slime of mangrove swamps. 

Landed at the other side of the gulf he had even a worse experience oftravel before him than on the previous day. For the next stage of thejourney was forty miles across a salt desert in a tram drawn by a camel. The car was open on all sides and covered by a cardboard roof; and itswooden seats were uncomfortably hard for long hours of sitting. The heatwas appalling. It struck up from the baked ground and seemed to scorchthe body through the clothes. The glare from the white sand and evenwhiter patches of salt was blinding and penetrated through the closedeyelids. A hot wind blew over the hazy, shimmering desert, setting thewhirling dust-devils dancing and striking the face like the touch of aheated iron. Wargrave's small store of ice and mineral water wasexhausted, and he felt that he was likely to die of thirst. For in thevillages where they changed camels cholera was raging; and he dared notdrink the water from their wells. 

The tram slid easily along the shining rails that stretched away out ofsight over the monotonous plain, the camel loping lazily along, itssoft, sprawling feet falling noiselessly on the sand. The last ten milesof the way lay through less sterile country; and the tram passed herdsof black buck--the pretty, spiral-horned antelope. Used to its dailypassage, the graceful animals, which were protected by the game-laws ofthe native State through which the line ran, barely troubled to move outof its way. They stood about in hundreds, staring lazily at it, some notten yards off, the bucks turning their heads away to scratch their sideswith the points of their horns or rubbing their noses with dainty hoofs. 

That night Wargrave slept at a dâk-bungalow near the terminus in alittle native town with a small branch-railway connecting it with a mainline. Then for four days he travelled across the scorching plains ofIndia, shut up in stuffy carriages with violet-hued glass windows andVenetian wooden shutters meant to exclude the heat and glare. Over bareplains broken by sudden flat-topped rocky hills, throughclosely-cultivated fields and stretches of scrub-jungle, by mud-walledvillages, he journeyed day and night. The train crossed countless wideriver-beds in which the streams had shrunk to mean rivulets; but when itclattered over the Ganges at Allahabad the sacred flood rolled a broadand sluggish current under the bridge on its way to the far-distant Bayof Bengal. 

On the fourth night Wargrave slept on a bench in the waiting-room of asmall junction, Niralda, from which a narrow-gauge railway branched offto the north from the main line through Eastern Bengal. At an early hournext morning he took his seat in the one first-class carriage of the toytrain, which journeyed through typical Bengal scenery by mud-bankedrice-fields, groves of tall, feathery bamboos and hamlets of prettypalm-thatched huts, their roofs hidden by the broad green leaves ofsprawling creepers. Soon across the sky to the north a dark, blurredline rose, stretching out of sight east and west. It grew clearer as thetrain sped on, more distinct. It was the great northern rampart ofIndia, the Himalayas. Then, seeming to float in air high above thehighest of the dark mountain peaks and utterly detached from them, thewhite crests of the Eternal Snows shone fairy-like against the blue sky. 

As Wargrave gazed enraptured, suddenly hills and plain were shut outfrom his sight as the train plunged from the dazzling sunlight into thedeep shadows of a tropical forest. And the subaltern recognised with athrill of delight that he was entering the wonderful Terai Jungle, themarvelous belt of woodland that stretches for hundreds of miles alongthe foot of the Himalayas through Assam and Bengal to the far Siwalikrange, clothing their lower slopes or scaling their steep sides intoNepal and Bhutan. Deep in its recesses the rhinoceros, bison and buffalohide, herds of wild elephants roam, tigers prey on the countless deer, and the great mountain bears descend to prowl in it for food. Frank hadlearned on the way that Ranga Duar was practically situated in it; andthe knowledge almost consoled him for his exile in the promise of sportthat kings might envy. 

At a small wayside station in a clearing in the forest his railwayjourney ended. Beside the one small stone building two elephants werestanding, incessantly swinging their trunks, flapping their ears andshifting their weight restlessly from leg to leg. Frank, on getting outof his carriage, learned with pleasure from their salaaming _mahouts_(drivers) that these animals were to be his next means of transport, anovel one that harmonised with the surroundings. On the back of eachgreat beast was a massive, straw-filled pad secured by a rope passingsurcingle-wise around its body. 

Each _mahout_ carried a gun, one a heavy rifle, the other adouble-barrelled fowling-piece, which they offered to Wargrave. 

"_Huzoor_!" (the Presence--a polite mode of address in Hindustani), saidone man, "the _Burra_ Sahib (the Political Sahib) sends salaams andlends you these, as you might see something to shoot on the way. "

"Oh, the Political Officer. Very kind of him, I'm sure, " remarked thesubaltern. "What is his name?"

"Durro-Mut Sahib. "

"What a curious name!" thought Frank. For in the vernacular "_durromut_!" means, "Do not be afraid!" He concluded that it was a nickname. 

"Why is he called that?" he asked in Hindustani. 

"Because the Sahib is a very brave sahib, " replied the man. "Where he isthere no one need fear. "

The other _mahout_ nodded assent, then said:

"The Commanding Sahib has sent Your Honour from the Mess a basket withfood and drink. I have put it on the table in the _babu's_ (clerk's)office in the station. "

Frank blessed his new C. O. For his thoughtfulness and made a welcomemeal while he watched his baggage being loaded on to one of theelephants. 

"_Buth_!" (Lie down) cried the _mahout_; and the obedient animal slowlysank to its knees and stretched out its legs before and behind. Frank's"boy" mounted timorously when the luggage had been strapped on to thepad. When the subaltern was ready the second elephant was ordered tokneel down for him; and he clambered up awkwardly and clung on tightlywhen the _mahout_, getting astride of the great neck, made it rise. 

Along a broad road cut through the forest the huge beasts lumbered witha plunging, swaying stride that was very tiring to a novice. Holdingboth guns Frank glanced continually ahead, aside and behind him with adelicious feeling of excited hope that at any moment some dangerous wildbeast might appear. On either hand the dense undergrowth of great, flower-covered bushes and curving fan-shaped palms, restricted the viewto a few yards. From its dense tangle rose the giant trunks of hugetrees, their leafy crowns striving to push through the thick canopy ofvegetation overhead into the life-giving air and sunshine. 

But no wild animal appeared to cheer Wargrave on the long way; and ashour after hour went by his whole body ached with the strain of sittingupright without a support to his back and being jolted violently atevery step of the elephant. At last they reached a clearing in theforest where stood the _mahout's_ huts and a tall, wooden building, the_peelkhana_, or elephant stables. It lay at the foot of the mountains;and from here the road wound upwards among the lower hills, under steepcliffs, by the brink of precipices and beside deep ravines down whichbrawling streams tumbled. 

As the party mounted higher and ever higher the big trees fell awaybehind them until Frank could look down on a sea of foliage stretchingaway out of sight east and west but bounded on the south by the Plainsof India seen vaguely through the shimmering heat-haze. Up, up theyclimbed, until far above him he caught glimpses of buildings dottedabout among jungle-clad knolls and spurs jutting out from the dark faceof the mountains. And at last as evening shadows began to lengthen theyreached a lovely recess in the hills, a deep horse-shoe; and in it anartificially-levelled parade-ground, a rifle-range running up a gully, afew bungalows dotted about among the trees and lines of single-storiedbarracks enclosed by a loopholed stone wall told Wargrave that he hadcome to his journey's end. This was his place of exile--this was RangaDuar. 

CHAPTER VI

A BORDER OUTPOST

"What a beautiful spot!" thought Frank as he gazed entranced at thescenery. "I've never seen anything like it. It looks like Heaven afterthe ugliness of Rohar. And how delightfully cool it is, too, up in themountains! Well, with this climate and good shooting in the forest belowlife won't be as dreadful as I thought. I wish poor Violet were here outof the heat and glare. How she'd love all this beauty, these trees, these gardens, the glorious mountains!"

He sighed as he thought of the woman who was so far away. 

"_Huzoor_, that is the Mess" broke in the voice of his _mahout_, as hepointed to a long, red-tiled building half-hidden among the trees a fewhundred feet above them. To reach it they had to pass a large, well-built stone bungalow, two-storied, unlike all the others andstanding in a lovely garden glowing with the vivid hues of the flowers, the flaming red of huge bushes of bougainvillea and poinsettia. Frank, glancing towards it, was about to ask the _mahout_ who lived in it whenhe started in horror and cried to the man:

"Stop! Stop your animal! Look there!"

And he snatched at his rifle. For on the farther side of the house ahuge tusker elephant in the garden stood over a little European boyabout four years old, who was sprawling almost under the huge feet. Andhigh above its head the brute held in its curved trunk a younger child, a girl with long golden curls, as if about to dash it to the ground. 

As Frank grasped the rifle the _mahout_, who had turned at his cry, seized the barrel and said with a smile:

"_Durro mut_, Sahib! Do not fear, sir. Those are Durro Mut Sahib'sbabies and the elephant is their playmate. "

And as he spoke Wargrave saw the elder child spring up from the groundand beat the great animal's legs with his tiny hands, crying:

"_Mujh-ko bhi_, Badshah! _Mujh-ko bhi! Uth! Uth!_ (Me too, Badshah! Metoo! Take me up!)"

And the baby held aloft was crowing in glee and kicking its fat littlelegs frantically. The elephant lowered it tenderly to the ground andpicked up the boy in its stead and lifted him into the air, while helaughed and clapped his hands. The two _mahouts_ raised their palmsrespectfully to their foreheads and cried to their animals:

"_Salaam kuro_! (Salute!)"

And the two trunks were lifted together in the _Salaamut_, the royalsalute given to Kings and Viceroys. 

Frank's _mahout_ explained. 

"_Gharib Parwar_ (Protector of the Poor), the pagan ignorant Hindusaround here say that the elephant is a god. Aye, and that his master, Durro Mut Sahib, is one too. _That's_ like enough. Well, Allah aloneknows the truth of everything. But those two are more than mere man andanimal, that is certain. _Mul, Moti_! (Go on, Pearl!)"

And he kicked his elephant under the ears with his bare feet to quickenher pace. But Frank bade him stop. Despite the man's optimism he couldnot believe it wise to allow tiny tots like that to play with such ahuge, clumsy animal. He was sure that their mother would be horrified ifshe knew it. He loved children, and felt that it was madness to allowthese babies to continue their dangerous pastime. 

"Have they a mother?" he asked the _mahout_. 

"Yes, _Huzoor_. The _mem-Sahib_ (lady) is doubtless within the house. "

"I want to dismount, " said Frank; and he grasped the surcingle rope asthe elephant sank jerkily to its knees. Then sliding down from the padhe entered the gate and passed up through the garden towards thebungalow. As he did so a dainty little figure in white, a charminglypretty girl with golden hair and blue eyes, came out on the verandah. Seeing him she walked down the steps to meet him and held out her hand, saying in a pleasant, musical voice:

"You are Mr. Wargrave, of course? Welcome to Ranga Duar. "

Frank, uncomfortably conscious of his dishevelled appearance andtravel-stained attire, almost blushed as he took off his hat andquickened his steps to meet her, wondering who this delightful younggirl--she looked about nineteen--could be. Possibly an elder sister ofthe children outside. But as they shook hands she said:

"I am the wife of the Political Officer here. My husband, ColonelDermot, has just gone up to the Mess to see your C. O. , Major Hunt. "

Frank was astonished. This pretty young girl, scarcely more than a childherself, the mother of the two chubby babies! Touched by her kind mannerhe shook her hand warmly and said:

"Thank you very much for your welcome, Mrs. Dermot. It's awfully good ofyou, and I--I assure you I appreciate it a lot just now. I was coming totell you--I wonder do you know that your babies--I suppose they _are_yours--are playing what seems to me rather a dangerous game with anelephant at the side of the house. "

Mrs. Dermot smiled; and the dimples that came with the smile carried hismind back for an instant to Violet. 

"Yes, they are my chicks, " she said. "I left them in Badshah's charge. "

Frank was not altogether reassured. The young mother evidently did notknow what was happening. 

"But--pardon me--is it quite safe? I was a bit scared when I saw them. The animal was tossing them up in the air. "

"You needn't be alarmed, Mr. Wargrave--though it's very good of you tobe concerned and come to tell me, " she replied. "But Badshah--that's theelephant's name--is a most careful nurse and I know that my babies arequite safe when they are in his care. He has looked after them sincethey were able to crawl. Come and be introduced to him. I must tell youthat he is a very exceptional animal. Indeed, we almost forget that heis an animal. He has saved our lives, my husband's and mine, on morethan one occasion. Next to the children and me I think that Kevin loveshim better than anyone or anything else in the world. And after mychicks and Kevin and my brother I believe I do, too. As for the babies, I'm not sure that he doesn't come first with them. "

She led the way round the house, and in spite of her assurances Wargravefelt a little nervous when they came in sight of the strange nurse andits charges. The tiny girl was seated on the ground tightly clasping onehuge foreleg; while the boy was beating the other with his little fists, crying:

"_Mujk-ko uth! Pir! Pir!_ (Lift me up! Again! Again!)"

When he saw his mother he ran to her and said:

"Mummie, bad, naughty Badshah won't lift me up. "

He suddenly caught sight of the stranger and paused shyly. 

"Brian darling, this is a new friend, " said his mother, bending down tohim. "Won't you shake hands with him?"

The child conquered his shyness with an effort and walked over to Frank, holding out his little hand. 

"How do you do?" he said politely. 

The subaltern gravely shook the proffered hand. The little girlscrambled to her fat little legs and finger in mouth, surveyed himsolemnly. Then satisfied with her inspection she toddled forward to himand said:

"Tiss me. "

Frank laughed joyously. 

"With all my heart, you darling, " he cried. 

This delightful welcome in the dreaded place of exile was inexpressiblycheering. He swung the dainty mite up in his arms and kissed her. Sheput her arms around his neck and hugged him. 

"Me like 'oo, " she said. 

"You little flirt, Eileen, " exclaimed her mother laughing. "Now it'sBadshah's turn. "

She walked to the elephant, a splendid specimen of its race, though ithad only one tusk, the right. She held out her hand to it. The longtrunk shot out, brushed her fingers and then her cheek with a lighttouch that was almost a caress. She stroked the trunk affectionately. 

"Now, Badshah, this is a new Sahib. "

Frank, with the baby girl seated on his shoulder, stepped forward andextended his hand. The animal smelt it and then laid its trunk for amoment on his free shoulder. 

"Badshah accepts you, Mr. Wargrave, " said Mrs. Dermot seriously. "Andthere are few whom he takes to readily. "

Eileen, with one arm around Frank's neck, stretched out the other to theelephant. 

"Me love Badshah, " she said. 

The snake-like trunk lingered caressingly on her golden head. The babycaught and kissed it. 

"Now then, chickies, time for bed, " said their mother. "Say goodnight toBadshah. "

The little boy ran to the great animal and hugged its leg tightly, whilethe snaky trunk touched the child's face affectionately. 

"Come along, Brian. Let him go now"; and at his mother's bidding the boyreleased his clasp and ran to her. 

"Goodnight, Badshah. _Salaam_!" said Mrs. Dermot, waving her hand to themammoth, while her little daughter on Wargrave's shoulder imitated her. 

The big animal raised its trunk in salute and, turning, walked withswaying stride out of sight behind the bungalow. 

"By Jove, what a splendid beast!" exclaimed Frank. "And how wonderfullywell trained he is. I'm not surprised now that you let the kiddies playwith him. "

Mrs. Dermot smiled. 

"You would be even less so if you knew his story, " she said. "He is myhusband's private property now. The Government of India presented him toKevin. Now come back to the house and have tea. Oh, no, after your longride you'll prefer a whiskey and soda. "

"I'd really rather have the tea, I think, Mrs. Dermot. I don't feelthirsty up in this deliciously cool air. It's awful down in the Plainsnow. But what about my elephants and baggage?"

"Tell the _mahouts_ to go to the Mess. You are to have a room there. "

Frank did so; and the two animals lumbered away up the hill after the_mahouts_ had brought the Colonel's guns into the bungalow. 

Mrs. Dermot led the way into the house. The little boy had possessedhimself of Wargrave's free hand, the other one being engaged in holdingEileen, who was perched on the subaltern's shoulder. Mrs. Dermot foundit difficult to separate the children from their new friend when atlast she bore them off to bed. 

Left to himself, Frank examined with deep interest and admiring envy thesplendid display of Colonel Dermot's trophies of big game shooting thatfilled the bungalow. From the walls many heads of bison and buffalo, of_sambhur_ and _barasingh_, those fine Indian stags, looked mildly at himwith their glass eyes; while tigers, bears and panthers snarled at himfrom the ground. Long elephant-tusks leaned in corners, smoking andliqueur-tables made up from the mammoths' legs and feet stood about, andcrossed from ceiling to floor; on the walls were the skins of enormoussnakes such as Frank had never seen or imagined. He had thought asix-foot cobra or an eight-foot python long--here were reptiles sixteenor eighteen feet in length, and he hoped that he would never meet theirequals alive in the jungle. 

While he was gazing with admiration at the fine collection of trophiesMrs. Dermot returned. 

"What a magnificent lot of heads and skins you've got here!" heexclaimed. "All your husband's, I suppose?"

She laughed as she glanced round the room, while pouring out the teathat her butler had brought. 

"I'm afraid they make the house rather like a museum of naturalhistory, " she answered. "Yes, they are all Kevin's, or nearly all. There are a few of mine among them. "

He looked at her in open admiration. 

"Oh, you shoot? How splendid!" he said. "Have you ever got a tiger?"

"A couple, " she replied, smiling. 

"I envy you awfully, " he said. "I've never even seen one--out of acage. "

"Well, if you are keen on shooting, Mr. Wargrave, you ought to havelittle difficulty in bagging a tiger or two before long, " she said. 

"I'd love to have the chance of going after big game. I'm hoping for ithere. Shall I? I've never had any, although I've shot a panther or twoand a few black buck and _chinkara_. "

"You will have every opportunity of good sport here. Neither of theother two Europeans, your Commanding Officer and the doctor of yourdetachment, go in for it, the latter because his sight is very bad, Major Hunt because he doesn't care for it. I'm sure my husband will beglad to take you out with him; and nobody in the whole Terai knows moreabout big game than he. "

"By Jove; how ripping, " exclaimed Frank eagerly. "Would he?"

"I'm sure he would. He'll be only too delighted to have someone forcompany. I used to go with him always, until my babies came. Now Kevinhas no one but Badshah. "

"Badshah? Oh, yes, that ripping elephant. I don't know much about thoseanimals, but isn't it unusual for him to have only a single tusk?"

"Yes; Badshah is what the natives call a 'Gunesh. ' You know that Guneshis the Hindu God of Wisdom and is represented as having an elephant'shead with only the right tusk? Consequently any of these animals bornwith a single tusk, and that the right, is considered sacred and lookedupon as a god. "

"One of the _mahouts_ said that the Hindus here regard your husband asone, too, " said Frank, "and he seemed inclined to believe it himself. Ilike the name they've given Colonel Dermot--Durro Mut Sahib, Fear NotSahib. "

A look of pride came in the young wife's eyes as she repeated the namesoftly to herself. 

"Fear Not Sahib. Yes, it suits him. " Then aloud she continued:

"I think you'll like my husband, Mr. Wargrave. All men do. He's a man'sman. The hill and jungle people worship him. He understands them. Ah!here he is, I think. "

Her face brightened, and Frank saw the light of love shine in her eyesas she turned expectantly to the door. He sprang up as a tall man withhandsome, clear-cut features, dark complexion and eyes, andclose-cropped black hair touched at the temples with grey, entered theroom. With a pleasant smile the newcomer walked towards the subalternwith outstretched hand, saying in a friendly voice:

"Glad to welcome you to Ranga Duar, Wargrave. "

"Thank you very much, sir, " replied Frank gripping his hand and greatlytaken at once by the Political Officer's appearance and friendly manner. "It was very kind of you to send those guns for me. But I had no luck. We saw nothing on the way. "

After greeting him Colonel Dermot bent over his wife and kissed herfondly. It was obvious to the subaltern that after their five years ofmarried life they were lovers still. Frank looked at them a littleenviously. He wondered would it be so with Violet and him after the samelapse of time; for the sight of their happiness sent his thoughts flyingto the woman who loved him. 

"Are you keen on shooting, Wargrave?" said the Colonel. 

"Oh, yes, he is, Kevin, " broke in his wife. "I told him that I was sureyou'd be glad to take him with you into the jungle sometimes. "

"I'll be happy to do so, if you care to come with me, Wargrave, " saidthe Colonel. 

"I'd love to, sir. It would be awfully good of you, " replied thesubaltern eagerly. "But I've only a Mannlicher rifle. "

"Ah, you'll need a bigger bore than that. But I can lend you a . 470 highvelocity cordite weapon. You want something with great hitting powerfor dangerous game, " said Dermot. 

He went on to speak of the jungle and its denizens; and his conversationwas so interesting that Wargrave forgot the flight of time until hishostess reminded him that he had to report his arrival to his commandingofficer and find his new quarters. Her husband volunteered to show himthe way to the Mess and introduce him to Major Hunt. 

As Wargrave shook hands with Mrs. Dermot, she said:

"I wanted to ask you to dinner this evening; but Kevin thought you mightprefer to spend your first night with your brother officers. But weshall expect you to-morrow, when they are coming, too. "

On their way up the steep road from his bungalow the Political Officerspoke of the great forest below them and the sport to be found in it. Then he said:

"It's lucky you like shooting, Wargrave, for Ranga Duar is very isolatedand life in it dull to a person who has no resources. Still, it has itsadvantages, and chief among them is the climate. It's delightful in thecold weather and pleasant in the hot. "

"By Jove, it is indeed, sir! It's like Heaven after the heat in thePlains below. I don't know how I lived through it coming across India. "

"The rainy season is the hardest to bear. We have five months of it andover three hundred inches of rain during them. One never sees a strangeface then--not that we ever do have many visitors here at any time. Still, you'll like your C. O. , and Burke the doctor is a capital fellow. Here we are. "

He turned in through a narrow gate leading to a pretty though neglectedgarden in which stood the Mess, a long, single-storied building raisedon piles. On the broad wooden verandah to which a flight of steps ledfrom the ground two men were reclining in long chairs reading oldnewspapers. On seeing Dermot and his companion they rose, and theColonel introduced Frank. They shook hands with him and gave him ahearty welcome, which, coming on the top of the Dermot's, cheered thesubaltern exceedingly and for the time made him forget the circumstancesof his coming. 

"It's mighty glad I am to see you here, Wargrave, " said Burke, thedoctor, in a mellow brogue, "aven av it's only to have someone living inthe Mess wid me. The Major there lives in solitary state in his littlebungalow; and I'm all alone here at night wid _shaitans_ (devils) andwild beasts walking on the verandah. "

"What? Has that panther been prowling round the Mess again?" asked thePolitical Officer. 

"Faith! and he has that. Sure, I heard him sniffing at me door lastnight. I wish to the Powers ye'd shoot him, sir. "

"I can't get him. I've tried often enough. "

"Troth! and it's waking up one fine morning I'll be to find he's made ameal av me. Keep your door shut at night, Wargrave. Merrick, who livedin the room you'll have, forgot to do it once and the divil nearly hadhim. "

"Is that really a fact?" asked Frank, delighted at the thought of havingcome to a place with such possibilities of sport. 

"Yes; we're plagued by a brute of a panther that prowls about thestation at night, jumps the wall of the Fort and carries off the sepoys'dogs, and has actually entered rooms here in the Mess. He has killedseveral Bhuttia children on the hills around here. Nobody can ever get ashot at him. He's too cunning. Will you have a drink, Colonel?" saidHunt. 

The Political Officer thanked him but declined, and, reminding them allof his wife's invitation for the morrow, bade them goodnight. 

"That's one av the finest men in India, " exclaimed Burke, as theywatched Dermot's figure receding down the road. The doctor had apleasant, ugly face and wore spectacles. 

"He is, indeed. He keeps the whole Bhutan border in order, " said thecommandant, Major Hunt, a slight, grey-haired man with a quiet andreserved manner. "The Bhuttias are more afraid of a cross look from himthan of all our rifles and machine-guns. Have a drink, Wargrave? Yes?And you, Burke? Hi, boy!"

A Gurkha servant with the ugly, cheery face of his race appeared and wasordered to bring three whiskeys and sodas. 

"Ranga's not a bad place if you can stand the loneliness, " continued theMajor. "Are you fond of shooting. "

"Yes, sir, awfully. "

"Hooray! That's good, " cried Burke. "Now we'll have someone to go downto the jungle and shoot for the Mess. We want a change from tinned Armyrations and the tough ould hins that these benighted haythins callchickens. "

"Yes, you'll be a Godsend to us if you're a good shot, Wargrave, " addedthe Commandant. "We never get meat here unless someone shoots a stag ora buck in the jungle; and for that we generally have to rely on Dermot. But he is away such a lot, wandering along the frontier, keeping an eyeon the peace of the Border. Now we'll be able to look to you. We havethree transport elephants with the detachment, all steady to shootfrom. "

Frank was delighted. 

"I'd love to go into the jungle if you'd let me, sir. "

"Yes, I'll be glad if you do. There's not much work for you here; andthis is a dull place for a youngster unless he's keen on sport. I'm not, myself; and Burke's as blind as a bat. But you can always have anelephant when they aren't wanted to bring up supplies from the railway. "

The subaltern thanked him gratefully and inwardly decided that his newcommanding officer was a great improvement on Colonel Trevor. 

"Now, Burke, I'm off to my bungalow. Show Wargrave his quarters, " saidthe Major rising. "See you at dinner. "

Burke showed the subaltern his room, one of the four into which the Messwas divided. Like the doctor's quarters, it was at one end of thebuilding, the centre apartment being the officers' anteroom anddining-room. Frank found that his "boy, " with the ready deftness ofIndian servants, had unpacked his trunks, hung up his clothes and stowedhis various belongings about the scantily-furnished room. He had stoodViolet's photo on the one rickety table and laid out his Master's whitemess uniform on the small iron cot. 

Major Hunt, Wargrave learned, lived in a bungalow a few hundred yardsaway, but, being unmarried, took his meals in the Mess. The Indianofficers and sepoys of the detachment were quartered in barracks in theFort. 

Frank dressed and entered the anteroom or officers' sitting-room, fromwhich a door led into the messroom. Both apartments were poorlyfurnished, but the walls were adorned with the skulls and skins of manybeasts of the jungle, presented by Colonel Dermot, as Frank learned. Shelves filled with books ran across one end of the anteroom. 

As the interior of the Mess was rather hot at that time of year--thoughto Wargrave it seemed very cool after Rohar--the dinner-table was laidon the verandah; and while the officers sat at their meal the pleasantmountain breeze played about them. Frank thought with gratitude of hisescape from the burning heat which at that moment was tormenting thehundreds of millions in the furnace of the Plains of India stretchingaway from the foot of the cool hills. 

The meal was not luxurious, for it consisted almost exclusively oftinned provisions, fresh meat being unprocurable in Ranga Duar--exceptfowls of exceeding toughness--and vegetables and bread being raredainties. 

During dinner Wargrave learned how completely isolated his new stationwas. Their only European neighbours were the planters on tea-gardensscattered about in the great forest below, the nearest thirty miles off. The few visitors that Ranga Duar saw in the year were the General on hisannual inspection, an occasional official of the Indian Civil Service, the Public Works or the Forest Department, or some planter friend of theDermots. 

The reason of the existence of this outpost and its garrison was theguarding of the _duars_, or passes, through the Himalayas againstraiders from Bhutan, that little-known independent State lying betweenTibet and the Bengal border. Its frontier was only two miles from, and afew thousand feet above, Ranga Duar. 

"You are just in time for our one yearly burst of gaiety, Wargrave, "said the Commandant, "the visit of the Deb Zimpun. "

"What on earth is that, sir?" asked the subaltern. 

"Sounds like a new disease, doesn't it?" said Burke laughing. "But itisn't. The Deb Zimpun is a gintleman av high degree, the Heridithary CupBearer to the Deb Raja. "

"To the what?" demanded the bewildered Frank. 

Major Hunt smiled. 

"Bhutan is supposed to be ruled by a temporal monarch called the DebRaja and also by a spiritual one, known in India as the Durma Raja. Inreality it is under the sway of the most powerful of the several greatfeudal lords of the land, the Tongsa Penlop or Chief of Tongsa, whom weregard as the Maharajah of Bhutan. He has placed himself, as far only asthe foreign relations of the country go, under the suzerainty of theGovernment of India; and in return we grant him a subsidy of a _lakh_ ofrupees a year. It used to be fifty thousand, but the sum was doubledyears ago. To get the money one of the State Council comes every year. He is an official called the Deb Zimpun. "

"Faith! he's a rum old beggar, Wargrave, " broke in Burke. "Looks likethe Pope av Rome in his thriple crown, for he wears a high gold-edgedcap and a flowing red robe av Chinese silk, out av which sticks a pairav hairy bare legs. "

"The Political Officer receives him in _durbar_; and we furnish a Guardof Honour. The Colonel gives a dinner to him and us, and we have anotherspread in the Mess. That reminds me. I suppose Dermot will be going intothe jungle soon to shoot for the pot, as the _durbar_ is next week. You'd better get him to take you. You can have one of our elephants andprovide for our larder. "

"Thanks very much, Major, " said the delighted subaltern. "The Colonelpromised to let me accompany him and lend me a rifle. "

When he went to his room that night the subaltern turned up the oil lampthat lighted it and before he undressed sat down before Violet'sphotograph. As he looked at it he thought affectionately and a littlesadly of the lonely woman so far away from him now. He pitied her forthe isolation in which she lived, an isolation far completer than hisown, for she had few friends, no intimates, and a husband worse than astranger in his lack of understanding of her. Surely it would be onlyright to take her from such a man, right to give her a fresh chance offinding the happiness that she had missed; for the warm-hearted, intelligent and artistic-natured woman would be far happier with him inthis beautiful spot, remote from the world though it was. And his newcomrades would appeal to her, Dermot, strong, capable, one who wouldalways stand out from his fellows; Hunt grave, kindly, well-read; Burkewitty, clever and good-hearted. And, little though Violet cared for herown sex, as a rule, surely in Mrs. Dermot she would find a friend. Thishappy wife, this loving mother, was so sweet and sympathetic that shewould win the older woman's liking, while the two delightful childrenwould take her heart by storm. Poor, lonely Violet, so beautiful, soill-fated! Frank sighed as he took up her portrait and kissed it. 

When he extinguished the lamp and lay down in bed it was pleasant, afterthe heat in Rohar, to find it so cool that he was obliged to pull ablanket over him. Only those who have endured the torment of hot nightsin the tropics can appreciate his thankfulness as in the silence brokenonly by the monotonous cry of the nightjars he drowsed contentedly tosleep. Already he was reconciled to Ranga Duar. 

CHAPTER VII

IN THE TERAI JUNGLE

In the pleasant light of the morning the little outpost looked ascharming to Wargrave as it had done on the previous evening. Above RangaDuar the mountains towered to the pale blue sky, while below it thefoot-hills fell in steps to the broad sea of foliage of the great foreststretching away to the distant plains seen vaguely through the haze. Thehorse-shoe hollow in which the tiny station was set was bowered invegetation. The gardens glowed with the varied hues of flowers, and werebounded by hedges of wild roses. The road and paths were bordered by thetall, graceful plumes of the bamboo and shaded by giant mango and banyantrees, their boughs clothed with orchids. 

Frank had noticed the previous day that the Fort, barracks and bungalowswere all newly built, and he learned that during the great war which hadraged along the frontiers of India five years before, the post had beenfiercely attacked by an army of Chinese and Bhutanese and the littlestation practically wiped out of existence, although victory had finallyrested with the few survivors of the garrison. 

From the first the subaltern took a great liking to the tall PunjaubiMahommedan and hook-nosed, fair-skinned Pathan native officers andsepoys of the detachment. The work was light and scarcely required twoBritish officers; and Frank soon found that Major Hunt, who seemeddriven by a demon of quiet energy, preferred to do most of it himself. Frank got the impression that to the elder man occupation was an anodynefor some secret sorrow. Although the subaltern had no wish to shirk hisduty he could not but be glad that his superior officer seemed alwaysready to dispense with his aid, for thus he would find it easier to getpermission to go shooting. 

His first excursion into the jungle was arranged at dinner at theDermots' house on his second evening in Ranga Duar. The Colonel proposedto take him out on the following Monday, for on the next day the _DebZimpun_ would arrive. 

"He always brings a big train of Bhuttias with him, eighty swordsmen asan escort to the small army of coolies necessary to carry a hundredthousand silver rupees in boxes over the Himalayan passes. I like togive them the flesh of a few _sambhur_ stags as a treat, " said theColonel. 

"Hiven hilp ye av ye bring any _sambhur_ flesh to the Mess, Wargrave, "said Burke. "We want something we can get our teeth into. No, we expecta _khakur_ from you. "

"What's a _khakur_?" asked Frank. 

"It's the _muntjac_ or barking deer, " replied Dermot. "You wouldn't knowit if you haven't shot in forests. It gets its English name from itscall, which is not unlike a dog's bark. "

"Whin ye hear one saying '_Wonk! Wonk!_' in the jungle, Wargrave, get upthe nearest tree; for the _khakur_ is warning all whom it may concernthat there's a tiger in the immajit vicinity. "

Frank had already learned to distrust most of Burke's statements onsport, for the doctor was an inveterate joker. So he looked to thePolitical Officer for confirmation. 

"Yes, it's supposed to be the case, " agreed the Colonel. "And I've morethan once heard a tiger loudly express his annoyance when a _khakur_barked as he was trying to sneak by unnoticed. There's a barking-deer. "He pointed to the well-mounted head of a small deer on the wall of thedining-room. 

"Whom do you expect up for the Durbar, Mrs. Dermot?" asked Major Hunt. 

"Only Mr. Carter, the Sub-divisional Officer, and probably Mr. Benson. "

"Eh--is--isn't Miss Benson coming too?" asked the doctor in a hesitatingmanner so unlike his usual cheery and assured self that Frank looked athim. It seemed to him that Burke was blushing. 

"Oh, yes, I hope so, " replied Mrs. Dermot. 

"Er--haven't you heard from her?" persisted the doctor anxiously. 

"I had a letter this afternoon brought by a coolie. Muriel wrote to saythat they were in the Buxa Reserve but hoped to get here in time. I'mlooking forward to her coming immensely. It's four months since I sawher. "

Frank could not help noticing that Burke seemed to hang on Mrs. Dermot'swords; and he began to wonder if the unknown lady held the doctor'sheart. 

"It's rather hard on a girl like Miss Benson to have to lead such alonely life and rough it constantly in the jungle as she does, " remarkedMajor Hunt. "At her age she must want gaiety and amusement. "

"Muriel doesn't mind it, " replied the hostess. "She loves jungle life. And she thinks that her father couldn't get on without her. "

"Sure, she's right there, Mrs. Dermot, " cried Burke. "The dear ouldboy'ud lose his head av he hadn't her to hould it on for him. She doesmost av his work. It's a sight to see that slip av a girl bossing allthe forest guards and _habus_ and giving them their ordhers. "

Wargrave was anxious to hear more of this girl, in whom it appeared tohim Burke was very much interested; but Colonel Dermot broke in:

"Talking of orders, have you any for the butcher's man, Noreen?" heasked, smiling at his wife. 

"Yes, dear; will you please bring me a _khakur_ and some jungle fowl?And if you can manage it a brace of _Kalej_ pheasants, " said the goodhousewife seriously. 

"Well, Wargrave, we've both got our orders and know what to bring backfrom the jungle, " said the Colonel, turning to Frank, who was sittingbeside him. Then the conversation between them drifted into sportingchannels until all adjourned outside for coffee on the verandah. 

Next afternoon the subaltern, passing down the road, was hailed from theDermots' garden by an imperious small lady with golden curls and bigblue bows and ordered to play with her. Her brother and Badshah had tojoin in the game, too. Frank, chasing the dainty mite round and roundthe elephant, began to think himself in the Garden of Eden. 

But that same evening he found that his Himalayan Paradise was notwithout its serpent. The three officers of the detachment were seated atdinner on the Mess verandah, Major Hunt with his back to the rough stonewall of the building. A swinging oil lamp with a metal shade threw thelight downward and left the ceiling and upper part of the wall inshadow. 

When dinner was ended the Commandant, lighting a cheerot, tilted hischair on its back legs until his head nearly touched the wall. Frank, talking to him, chanced to look up at the roof. He stared into theshadows for a moment, then, suddenly grasping the astonished major bythe collar, jerked him out of his chair. And as he did so a snake, adeadly hill-viper, which had been trying to climb up the rough face ofthe wall, slipped and dropped on to the Commandant's chair, slid to thefloor and glided across the verandah and down into the garden beforeanyone could find a stick with which to attack it. 

Major Hunt, his sallow face a little paler than usual, looked up at thewall to see if any more reptiles were likely to follow, then sat downagain calmly. 

"Thank you, Wargrave, " he said quietly. "But for you that brute wouldhave got me. And his bite is death. Ranga's full of snakes, like allthese places in the hills. We've killed several in the Mess since I'vebeen here; but no one's had such a close shave as this. I'll stand you adrink for that. Hi, boy!"

But for all this quiet manner of taking it Frank had made a staunchfriend that night by his prompt action. 

As Burke took the filled glass that the Gurkha mess-servant brought himat the Major's order he said:

"I hate snakes worse than the Divil hates holy wather. They're the onlythings in life I'm afraid av. I never go to bed without looking underthe pillow nor put on my boots in the morning without first turning themup and shaking them. I wish St. Pathrick had made a trip to India anddhriven the sarpints out av the counthry the same as he did inIreland. "

"We've the worst snake in the world, I believe, here in the Terai, Wargrave, " said Major Hunt. "Look out for it when you're in the jungle. It's the hamadryad or king-cobra. Have you heard of it?"

"I saw the skin of one sixteen feet long in a Bombay museum, sir, "replied the subaltern. 

"It's the only snake in Asia that will attack human beings unprovoked;it's deadly poisonous, unlike all other big snakes, and they say itmoves so fast that it can overtake a man on a pony. Benson, the ForestOfficer of the district, tells me there are many of them in the jungleshere. "

"One av the divils chased Dermot's elephant once and turned on theColonel when he interfered. It got its head blown off for its pains, "put in the doctor. 

"Don't tell me any more, Burke, " exclaimed Wargrave laughing, "or Iwon't be able to sleep to-night. "

He pushed back his chair as the Commandant rose from the table and, saying goodnight to the two junior officers, picked up from the verandahand lit a hurricane lantern and walked down the Mess steps with it onhis way home to his bungalow. Europeans in India do not care to moveabout at night without a lamp lest in the darkness they might tread on asnake. 

Early on the following Monday morning Wargrave, dressed in khakiknickerbockers, shirt and puttees, and wearing besides his pith helmeta "spine protector"--a quilted cloth pad buttoned to the back--as aguard against sunstroke, went down to the Dermots' bungalow. In thegarden the Colonel, also prepared for their shooting expedition, stoodtalking to his wife, while their children were trying to climb upBadshah's legs. The elephant was equipped with a light pad provided withlarge pockets into which were thrust Thermos flasks, packets ofsandwiches and of cartridges. Close by two servants were holding guns. 

"Good morning, Wargrave, " said the Colonel, as the subaltern greeted himand his wife. "You're in good time. "

Eileen, deserting Badshah, ran to Frank and demanded to be lifted up andkissed. When he had obeyed the small tyrant, he said:

"I haven't brought a rifle, sir. "

"That's right. I have one and a ball-and-shot gun for you. We'll walkdown to the _peelkhana_ by a short cut through the hills to look for_kalej_ pheasant on the way. Take the gun with you and load one barrelwith shot; but put a bullet in the other, for you never know what we maymeet. Badshah will go down by the road, as well as one of the servantsto bring the rifles and tell the _mahouts_ to get a detachment elephantready. It will follow us in the jungle to carry any animals we kill, while we'll ride Badshah. "

Kissing his wife and children the Colonel led the way down the road, followed by Frank and the servant, Badshah walking unattended behindthem. 

"Good sport, Mr. Wargrave!" called out Mrs. Dermot, as the subalternturned at the gate to take off his hat in a farewell salute; and thelittle coquette beside her kissed her tiny hand to him. 

After they had gone half a mile the two officers, carrying theirfowling-pieces, turned off along a footpath through the undergrowth, leaving the servant and the elephant to continue down the road. Thetrack led steeply down the mountain-side, at first between high, closely-matted bushes, and then through scrub-jungle dotted with smalltrees, among the foliage of which gleamed the yellow fruit of the limesand the plantain's glossy drooping leaves and long curving stalks fromwhich the nimble fingers of wild monkeys had plucked the ripe bananas. Here and there the ground was open; and the path following a naturaldepression in the hills gave down the gradually widening valley a viewof the panorama of forest and plain lying below. 

As they passed a clump of tangled bushes a rustle and a pattering overthe dry leaves under them caught the Colonel's ear. 

"Look out! _Kalej_, " he whispered, picking up a stone and throwing itinto the cover. A large speckled black and white bird whirred out; andWargrave brought it down. 

"Good shot! There's another, " called out Dermot, and fired with equalsuccess. "We're lucky, " he continued. "As a rule they won't break, butscuttle along under the bushes, so that one often has to shoot themrunning. "

Frank picked up the birds and examined them with interest before theColonel stuffed them into his game bag and moved on down the path, whichwas growing steeper. The trees became more numerous and larger as theydescended nearer the forest. Out of another clump of bushes thesportsmen succeeded in getting a second brace of pheasants. Lower downthey passed through a belt of bamboos, where in one spot the longfeathery boughs were broken off or twisted in wild confusion for a spaceof fifty yards' radius. 

"Wild elephants, " said the Political Officer briefly and pointed to apatch of dust in which was the round imprint of a huge foot. 

Frank was a little startled; for he felt that against these greatanimals the bullets in their guns would be useless. 

"Are they dangerous, sir?" he asked. 

"Not as a rule when they are in a herd, although cow-elephants withcalves may be so, fearing peril for their young. But sometimes a bulltakes to a solitary life, becomes vicious and develops into a dangerousrogue. It probably happens that, finding crops growing near a junglevillage and raiding them, he is driven off by the cultivators, turnssavage and kills some of them. Then he usually seems to take a hatred toall human beings and attacks them on sight. Hallo! here we are at the_peelkhana_ at last. "

They had reached the high wooden building which housed the threetransport elephants of the detachment. In the clearing before it Badshahand another animal were standing, a group of _mahouts_ and coolies nearthem. 

"We'll mount and start at once, " said Colonel Dermot, beckoning to hiselephant, which came to him. "Get up, Wargrave. "

The subaltern looked up doubtfully at the pad on Badshah's back. 

"How can I, sir? Isn't he going to kneel?" he asked. 

"Put your foot on his trunk when he crooks it and grab hold of his ears. He'll lift you up then. "

The understanding elephant at once curled its trunk invitingly andcocked its great ears forward. Frank did as he was directed and foundhimself raised in the air until he was able to get on to the elephant'shead and from it scrambled on to the pad. Dermot followed and seatedhimself astride the huge neck. 

"_Mul_! (Go on!)" he ejaculated. 

With a swaying, lurching stride Badshah at once moved across theclearing, followed by the transport elephant, on to which a _mahout_ anda coolie had climbed, and plunged into the dense undergrowth which wasso high that it nearly closed over the riders' heads. The sudden changefrom the blinding glare of the sun to the enchanting green gloom of theforest, from the intense heat to the refreshing coolness of the shade, was delightful. 

Beyond the clearing the vegetation was tangled and rank, high grassconcealing thorny shrubs, tall matted bushes covered with large, white, bell-shaped flowers, all so dense that men on foot could not push theirway through. But it divided like water before the leading elephant'sweight and strength. The trees were now not the lesser growths ofbamboo, lime and sago-palm that covered the foot-hills. They were thegreat forest giants, enormous teak, _sal_ and _simal_ trees, towering upbare of branches for a good height above the ground, rising to the greencanopy overhead and thrusting their leafy crowns through it, seekingtheir share of the sunlight. Their massive branches were matted thickwith the glossy green leaves of orchid-plants and draped with longtrails of the beautiful mauve and white blossoms of the exotic flowers. Hanging from the highest branches or swinging between the massive bolescreepers of every kind rioted in bewildering confusion, a chaos ofnatural cordage, of festooned _lianas_ thick as a liner's hawser, sometwisting around each other, others coiling about the tree-trunks, bitingdeep into the bark or striving to strangle them in a cruel grip. Noteven the elephants' weight and strength could burst through the stoutnetwork of these creepers in places. While they tore at the obstructionswith their trunks it was necessary for their drivers to hack through thecreepers with their sharp _kukris_--the heavy curved knives carried intheir belts and similar to the Gurkha's favourite weapon. 

Here and there the party came upon glades free from undergrowth, wherein the cool shade of the great trees the ground was knee-deep inbracken. In one such spot Wargrave's eye was caught by a flash of brightcolour, and his rifle went half-way to his shoulder, only to be loweredagain when he saw two _sambhur_ hinds, graceful animals with glossychestnut hides, watching the advancing elephants curiously but withoutfear. For, used to seeing wild ones, they did not realise that Badshahand his companion carried human beings. Their sex saved them from thehunters who, leaving them unscathed, passed on and plunged into thedense undergrowth on the far side of the clearing. 

The elephants fed continually as they moved along. Sweeping up greatbunches of grass, tearing down trails of leafy creepers, breaking offbranches from the trees, they crammed them all impartially into theirmouths. Picking up twigs in their trunks they used them to beat theirsides and legs to drive off stinging insects or, snuffing up dust fromthe ground, blew clouds of it along their bellies for the same purpose. 

Suddenly the Colonel stopped Badshah and whispered:

"There's a _sambhur_ stag, Wargrave. There, to your left in theundergrowth. Have a shot at him. "

The subaltern looked everywhere eagerly, but in the dense tangle couldnot discern the animal. Like all novices in the jungle he directed hisgaze too far away; and suddenly a dark patch of deep shadow in theundergrowth close by materialised itself into the black hide of a stagonly as it dashed off. It had been standing within fifteen paces of theelephants, knowing the value of immobility as a shield. At last itsnerve failed it; and it revealed itself by breaking away. But as it fledColonel Dermot's rifle spoke; and the big deer crumpled up and fellcrashing through the vegetation to the ground. The second elephant's_mahout_, a grey-bearded Mahommedan, slipped instantly to the earth and, drawing his _kukri_, struggled through the arresting creepers andundergrowth to where the stag lay feebly moving its limbs. Seizing onehorn he performed the _hallal_, that is, he cut its throat to let bloodwhile there was still life in the animal, muttering the short Mussulmancreed as he did so. For his religion enjoins this hygienicpractice--borrowed by the Prophet from the Mosaic law--to guard againstlong-dead carrion being eaten. At the touch of the Colonel's handBadshah sank to its knees; and Wargrave, very annoyed with himself forhis slowness in detecting the deer, forced his way through theundergrowth to examine it. The stag was a fine beast fourteen handshigh, with sharp brow antlers and a pair of thick, stunted hornsbranching at the ends into two points. 

Leaving the elephants to graze freely the _mahout_ and his cooliedisembowelled the _sambhur_ and hacked off the head with their heavy_kukris_. Aided by the Political Officer and Wargrave they skinned theanimal and then with the skill of professional butchers proceeded to cutup the carcase into huge joints. While they were thus engaged theColonel went to a small, straight-stemmed tree common in the jungle and, clearing away a patch of the outer mottled bark, disclosed a white innerskin, which he cut off in long strips. With these, which formedunbreakable cordage, they fastened the heavy joints to the pad of thetransport elephant. 

When this was done Wargrave, looking at his hands covered with blood andgrime, said ruefully:

"How on earth are we to get clean, sir? Is there any water in thejungle? We haven't seen any. "

The Political Officer, looking about him, pointed to a thick creeperwith withered-seeming bark and said with a laugh:

"There's your water, Wargrave. Lots of it on tap. See here. "

He cut off a length of the _liana_, which contained a whitish, pulpyinterior. From the two ends of the piece water began to drip steadilyand increased to a thin stream. 

"By George, sir, that's a plant worth knowing, " said Frank. 

"It's a most useful jungle product, " said the Colonel, holding it up sothat his companion, using clay as soap, could wash his hands. "It'scalled the _pani bel_--water-creeper. One need never die of thirst in aforest where it is found. Try the water in it. "

He raised it so that the clear liquid flowed into the subaltern's mouth. It was cool, palatable and tasteless. 

"By George, sir, that's good, " exclaimed Wargrave, examining the plantcarefully. "Now let me hold it for you. "

After Dermot and the two natives had cleansed their hands and arms theparty moved on, the transport elephant looking like an itinerantbutcher's shop as it followed Badshah. Again the undergrowth partedbefore the great animals like the sea cleft by the bows of a ship andclosed similarly behind them when they had passed. Of its own volitionthe leader swerved one side or the other when it was necessary to avoida tree-trunk or too dense a tangle of obstructing creepers. But onceDermont touched and turned it sharply out of its course to escape whatseemed a very large lump of clay adhering to the under side of anoverhanging bough in their path. 

"A wild bees' nest, " said the Colonel, pointing to it. "It wouldn't doto risk hitting against that and being stung to death by its occupants. "

A few minutes later he suddenly arrested Badshah at the edge of afern-carpeted glade and whispered:

"Look out! There's a barking-deer. Get him!"

Across the glade a graceful little buck with a bright chestnut coatstepped daintily, followed at a respectful distance by his doe. Theirrestless ears pointed incessantly this way and that for every warningsound as they moved; but neither saw the elephants hidden in theundergrowth. Raising his rifle Frank took a quick aim at the buck'sshoulder and fired. The deer pitched forward and fell dead, while itsstartled mate swung round and leapt wildly away. 

"A good shot of yours, Wargrave, " remarked Colonel Dermot, when Badshahhad advanced to the prostrate animal. "Broke its shoulder and piercedthe heart. "

Frank looked down pityingly at the pretty little deer stretched lifelessamong the ferns. 

"It seems a shame to slaughter a harmless thing like that, " he said. 

"Yes; I always feel the same myself and never kill except for food, "replied the Political Officer. "Unless of course it's a dangerous beastlike a tiger. Well, the _khakur_ is too dead to _hallal_; but thatdoesn't matter, as we're going to eat it ourselves and not give it tothe sepoys. "

The _mahout_ and the coolie were already cleaning the deer and, withouttroubling to cut it up, bound its legs together with _udal_ fibre andtied it to the pad of their elephant; and the party moved on again. 

Half a mile further on the silence of the forest was broken by the loudcrowing of a cock, taken up and answered defiantly by others. 

"Hallo! are we near a village, sir?" asked Wargrave, surprised at thefamiliar sounds so far in the heart of the wild. 

"No; those are jungle-fowl, " whispered the Political Officer. "Get yourgun ready. "

He halted the elephant and picked up his fowling-piece. Frank hurriedlysubstituted a shot cartridge for the one loaded with ball in his gun. Heheard a pattering on the dry leaves under the trees and into a fairlyopen space before them stalked a pretty little bantam cock with red comband wattles and curving green tail-feathers, followed by four or fivesober brown hens, so like in every respect to domestic fowl thatWargrave hesitated to shoot. But suddenly the birds whirred up into theair; and, as the Colonel gave them both barrels, Frank did the same. Thecock and three of his wives dropped. The _mahout_ urged his elephantforward and made the reluctant animal pick up the crumpled bunches ofblood-stained feathers in its curving trunk and pass them to him. 

Colonel Dermont searched the jungle for some distance around but couldnot find the other jungle-cocks that had answered the dead one'schallenge. Looking at his watch he suggested a halt for lunch, whichWargrave, whose back was beginning to ache with fatigue, gladly agreedto. Dismounting, they sat on the ground and ate and drank the contentsof the pockets of Badshah's pad, but with loaded rifles beside them lesttheir meal should be disturbed by any dangerous denizen of the jungle. The two natives sat down some distance away and, turning their backs oneach other, drew out cloths in which their midday repast of _chupatis_, or thick pancakes, with curry and an onion or two was tied up. Theelephants left to themselves grazed close by and did not attempt towander away. 

Their meal and a smoke finished the party mounted again and moved on. But luck seemed to have deserted them. Much to the Political Officer'sdisappointment they wandered for miles without adding anything to thebag. He had calculated on getting another couple of _sambhur_ stags topresent to the _Deb Zimpun_ as food for his hungry followers. The routethat they were now taking led circuitously back towards the _peelkhana_, which they wished to reach before sundown. They had got within a mile ofit and were close to the foot of the hills when Badshah stopped suddenlyand smelt the ground. Colonel Dermot leaned over the huge head andstared down intently at something invisible to his young companion. 

"What is it, sir?" asked Wargrave in a whisper. 

"Bison. Badshah's pointing for us. We can't shoot them here, for we'rein Government jungle where the killing of elephants, bison and rhino isforbidden unless they attack you. But the track leads north towards themountains and at their foot the Government Forest ends. That's only halfa mile away and we can bag them there. Load your rifle with solid-nosedbullets. This is the _pug_ (footprint) of a bull, I think. "

The two natives had seen the tracks by this and were wildly excited. Badshah without urging moved swiftly through the trees and soon broughthis riders to the hills and into sight of the sky once more. Themountains stood out clear and distinct in the slanting rays of thesetting sun. Suddenly a loud though distant, almost musical bellowsounded, seeming to come from a bamboo jungle about a mile away. 

"That's a cow-bison calling, " said Dermot in a low voice. "There's aherd somewhere about; but the '_pugs_' we're following up are those of asolitary bull. We're in free forest now; so with luck you may get yourfirst bison. It's very steep here; we'll dismount, leave the elephantsand go on foot. "

The subaltern was wildly excited, and his heart thumped at a rate thatwas not caused by the steep slope up which he followed Dermot. TheColonel tracked the bull unhesitatingly, although to Wargrave there wasno mark to be seen on the ground. 

They were creeping cautiously through bamboo cover on a hill whenDermot, who was leading, suddenly threw himself on his face, lay stillfor a minute or two, then, motioning to his companion to halt, crawledforward like a snake. A few paces on he stopped and beckoned toWargrave, and, when the latter reached him, pointed down into the gullybelow. They were almost on the edge of a descent precipitous enough tobe called a cliff. Immediately underneath by a small stream was amassive black bull-bison, eighteen hands--six feet--high, with short, square, head, broad ears and horizontal rounded horns. The only touchesof colour were on the forehead and the legs below the knees, which werewhitish. The animal, with head thrown back, was staring vacantly withits large, slatey-blue eyes. 

Wargrave trembled with excitement and his heart beat so violently thatthe rifle shook as he brought it to his shoulder and gently pushed themuzzle through the stiff, dry grass at the edge of the cliff. But forthe one necessary instant he became rigidly steady and without a tremorpressed the trigger. Then the rifle barrels danced again before hiseyes, when he saw the great bull collapse on the ground, its fore-legstwitching violently, the hind ones motionless. 

"Good shot. You've broken his spine, " exclaimed Dermot, springing to hisfeet and sliding, scrambling, jumping down the steep descent. Theexcited subaltern outstripped him; but before he reached the bull itlay motionless, dead. 

"You're a lucky young man, Wargrave. A splendid bison on your first dayin the jungle. Those horns are six feet from tip to tip I bet, " and thePolitical Officer held out his hand. 

Frank shook it heartily as he said gratefully:

"I've only you to thank for it, sir. It was ripping of you to let mehave first shot; and you gave me such a sitter that I couldn't miss. Thank you awfully, Colonel. "

Dermot gave a piercing whistle and stood waiting, while the overjoyedsubaltern walked round and round the dead bison, marvelling at its sizeand exclaiming at his own good fortune. 

When in a few minutes Badshah appeared, followed by the panting men, Colonel Dermot sent the _mahout_ on his elephant to the stable to fetchother men to cut up and bring in the bison. Then he and Wargrave onBadshah made for the road to Ranga Duar. 

It was dark long before they reached the little station. The Colonelbrought his companion in for a drink after the three thousand feetclimb, most of which they had done on foot. Mrs. Dermot met them in thehall; and, after she had heard the result of the day's sport, warmlycongratulated Wargrave on his good luck. Loud whispers and a scuffleover their heads attracted the attention of all three elders, and onthe broad wooden staircase they saw two small figures, one in pyjamas, the other in a pretty, trailing nightdress daintily tied with blue bows, looking imploringly down at their mother. She smiled and nodded. Therewas a whirlwind rush down the stairs, and the mites were caught up intheir father's arms. Then Frank came in for his share of caresses fromthem before they were sternly ordered back to bed again. And as hepassed out into the darkness he carried away with him an enchantingpicture of the charming babes climbing the stairs hand in hand andturning to blow kisses to the tall man who stood below with a strong armaround his pretty wife, gazing fondly up at his children. 

And the picture stayed with him when, after dinner at which he wascongratulated by his brother officers, he went to his room and found aletter overlooked in his rush to dress for Mess. It was from Violet, thefirst that had come from her since his arrival in Ranga Duar. Itbreathed passion and longing, discontent and despair, in every line. Ashe laid his face on his arm to shut out the light where he sat at thetable he felt that he was nearer to loving the absent woman than he hadever been. For the vision of the Dermots' married happiness, of the deepaffection linking husband and wife, of the children climbing the stairand smiling back at their parents, came vividly to him. And it hauntedhim in his sleep when in dreams tiny arms were clasped around his neckand baby lips touched his lovingly. 

CHAPTER VIII

A GIRL OF THE FOREST

From the frontier of Bhutan, six thousand feet up on the face of themountains, a line of men wound down the serpentining track that led toRanga Duar. At their head walked a stockily-built man with cheeryMongolian features, wearing a white cloth garment, _kimono_-shaped andkilted up to give freedom to the sturdy bare thighs and knees--the legsand feet cased in long, felt-soled boots. It was the _Deb Zimpun_, theEnvoy of the independent Border State of Bhutan. Behind him came a tallman in khaki tunic, breeches, puttees and cap, his breast covered withbright-coloured ribbons. His uniform was similar to the British; but hisface was unmistakeably Chinese, as were those of the twenty tall, khaki-clad soldiers armed with magazine rifles at his heels. They werefollowed by three or four score Bhutanese swordsmen, thick-set and notunlike Gurkhas in feature, with bare heads, legs and feet, and clad onlyin a single garment similar to their leader's and kilted up by a cordaround the waist, from which hung a _dah_, a short sword or long knife. In rear of them trudged a number of coolies, some laden with bundles, others with baskets of fruit. 

Where the track came out on the bare shoulder of a spur free from thesmall trees and undergrowth clothing the mountains the _Deb Zimpun_pointed to the roofs of the buildings in the little station a thousandfeet below them and hitherto invisible to them. 

"That is Ranga Duar, " he said briefly. The Chinaman behind him lookeddown at it. 

"It seems a very small and weak place to have stopped our invadingtroops in the war, " he said in Bhutanese. "So here lives the Man. "

"The Man? Yes, perhaps he is a man. But many, very many, there be thatthink him a god or devil. They say he can call up a horde of demons inthe form of elephants. With such he trampled your army into the earth. 

"Devils? Leave such tales to lamas and the ignorant fools that believetheir teaching. But if even a part of what I have heard about this manbe true he is more dangerous than many devils. He stands in China's way, and he who does shall be swept aside. "

"He is my friend, " said the _Deb Zimpun_ shortly, and tramped on insilence. 

Before they reached the station they were met by two of the PoliticalOfficer's men, Bhuttias resident in British territory, detailed toreceive and guide them to the Government Dâk Bungalow in which the _DebZimpun_ and as many of his followers as could crowd into it were toreside during their stay. Arrived at it the long line filed into thecompound. 

Half a mile away down the hill Colonel Dermot and Wargrave watched themthrough their field-glasses. 

"Who is that fellow in khaki uniform, sir?" asked the subaltern. 

The Political Officer lowered his binoculars and laughed. 

"A gentlemen I've been very anxious to meet. He's the Chinese_Amban_--we call him an Envoy of the Republic of China to Bhutan. Butthe Chinese themselves prefer to regard him as a representative of thesuzerainty they pretend to exercise over the country. I'm curious to seehim. He is a product of the times, an example of the modern Celestial, educated at Heidelberg University and Oxford, speaking German, Frenchand English. He has been specially chosen by his Government to come to aBuddhist land, as he is a son of the abbot of the Yellow Lama Temple inPekin and so might have influence with the Bhutanese by reason of hisconnection with their religion. "

"But what have the Chinese to do with Bhutan?"

"Nothing now. But they've been intriguing for years to re-establish thesuzerainty they once had over it. This _Amban_, Yuan Shi Hung by name, is a clever, unscrupulous and particularly dangerous individual. "

"You seem to know a lot about him, Colonel. "

"It's my business to do so. There is no apparent reason for his cominghere with the _Deb Zimpun_, nor has he a right to. But I won't object, for I want to study and size him up. By the way, the Envoy will make hisofficial call on me this morning. Would you like to be present?"

"Very much indeed. I'm always interested in seeing the various races ofIndia and learning all I can about them. I'd love a job like yours, sir, going into out-of-the-way places and dealing with strange peoples. "

"Would you?" The Political Officer looked at him thoughtfully. "Are yougood at picking up native languages?"

"Fairly so. I got through my Lower and Higher Standard Hindustani firstgo and have passed in Marathi and taken the Higher Standard, Persian. "

Colonel Dermot regarded him critically and then said abruptly:

"Come to my office a few minutes before eleven. That's the hour I'vefixed for the _Deb Zimpun's_ visit. "

Punctually at the time named Wargrave reached the Dermots' bungalow, onthe road outside which, a Guard of Honour of fifty sepoys under anIndian officer was drawn up. Passing along the verandah he entered theoffice and saluted the Colonel who, seated at his desk, looked up andnodded for him to be seated and then returned to the despatch that hewas writing. 

In a few minutes a confused murmur drew nearer down the road and wasstilled by the sharp words of command to the Guard of Honour and by thering of rifles brought to the present in salute. Over the low wall ofthe garden appeared the heads and shoulders of the Envoy and his Chinesecompanion, followed by a train of attendants and swordsmen. They passedin through the gate. The Political Officer rose as the _Deb Zimpun_, removing his cap, entered the office and rushed towards him. Thebullet-headed, cheery old gentleman beamed with pleasure as they shookhands and greeted each other in Bhutanese. Wargrave marvelled at theease and fluency with which Colonel Dermot spoke the language. The_Amban_ now entered the room and was formally presented by the _DebZimpun_. 

Speaking in excellent English but with an accent that showed that he hadfirst acquired it in Germany, he said:

"I am very pleased to meet you, Colonel. I have heard much of you inBhutan. "

"It gives me equal pleasure to make Your Excellency's acquaintance andto welcome you to India, " replied Dermot with a bow. 

Then in his turn Wargrave was presented to the two Asiatics, and theEnvoy, calling an attendant in, took from him two white scarves ofChinese silk and placed one round each officer's neck in the customknown as "_khattag_". All sat down and the Envoy plunged into ananimated conversation with Colonel Dermot, first producing a metal boxand taking betel-nut from it to chew, while the attendant placed aspittoon conveniently near him. 

Yuan Shi Hung chatted in English with Wargrave, who was astonished tofind him a well-educated man of the world and thoroughly conversant withEuropean politics, art and letters. But for the inscrutable yellow facethe subaltern could have believed himself to be talking to an ableContinental diplomat. The contrast between the semi-savage Bhutaneseofficial and his companion, in whom the most modern civilisedgentleman's manners were successfully grafted on the old-time courtesyof the Chinese aristocrat, was very striking. The old Envoy was a frankbarbarian. He laughed loudly and clapped his hands in glee when ColonelDermot presented him with a gramophone--which, it appeared, he hadlonged for ever since seeing one on a previous visit to India--andtaught him how to work it. He showed his betel-stained teeth in anecstatic grin when a record was turned on and from the trumpet came thePolitical Officer's familiar voice addressing him by name and in his ownlanguage with many flourishes of Oriental compliment. 

Towards the termination of their call the _Deb Zimpun_ called in twoattendants with large baskets of fine blood oranges and walnuts fromBhutan and presented them in return. A number of coolies were needed tocarry off the royal gift of the flesh of the bison, the sight of whichmade the Envoy's eyes glisten. He shook Wargrave's hand warmly when helearned to whose rifle he owed it. Then he and his Chinese companiontook their leave, and with their followers passed up the hilly road. Wargrave, gazing after them, came to the conclusion that of the pair hepreferred the savage to the ultra-cultivated Celestial. 

Having thanked the Colonel for permitting him to be present at theinterview, which had interested him greatly, the subaltern was about toleave when Mrs. Dermot appeared at the office door. 

"May I come in, Kevin?" she began. "Oh, good morning, Mr. Wargrave. Iwas just sending a _chit_ (letter) to you and Captain Burke asking youto tea this afternoon. A coolie has arrived from the _peelkhana_ to saythat Mr. And Miss Benson and Mr. Carter are on their way up and will behere soon. So you'll meet them at tea. You will like Miss Benson. She'sa dear girl. "

"Thanks very much, Mrs. Dermot. I'll be delighted to come, if you'llforgive me should I be a little late. I've got to take the signallers'parade this afternoon. I'll tell Burke when I get to the Mess. I'm goingstraight there now. "

"Thank you. That will save me writing. _Au revoir_. "

Half-way up the road to the Mess Wargrave looked back and saw anelephant heave into sight around a bend below the Dermots' house andplod heavily up to their gate. On the _charjama_--the passenger-carryingcontrivance of wooden seats on the pad with footboards hanging by shortropes--sat a lady and two European men holding white umbrellas up tokeep off the vertical rays of the noonday sun. When the animal sank toits knees in front of the bungalow Wargrave saw the girl--it could onlybe Miss Benson--spring lightly to the ground before either of hercompanions could dismount and offer to help her. Her big sunhat hid herface, and at that distance Wargrave could only see that she was smalland slight, as she walked up the garden path. 

When the signallers' afternoon practice was over the subaltern passedacross the parade ground to the Political Officer's house. When heentered the pretty drawing-room, bright with the gay colours of chintzcurtains and cushions, he found the strangers present, one man talkingto Mrs. Dermot at her tea-table, the other chatting with the Colonel, while Burke was installed beside a girl seated in a low cane chair anddressed in a smart, hand-embroidered Tussore silk dress, _suede_ shoesand silk stockings. Little Brian stood beside her with one armaffectionately round her neck, while Eileen was perched in her lap. Butwhen Frank appeared the mite wriggled down to the floor and rushed tohim. 

The subaltern was presented to Miss Benson, her father and Carter, theSub-Divisional Officer or Civil Service official of the district. Whenhe sat down Eileen clambered on to his knee and seriously interferedwith his peaceful enjoyment of his tea; but while he talked to her hewas watching Miss Benson over the small golden head. She wasastonishingly pretty, with silky black hair curving in natural waves, dark-bordered Irish grey eyes fringed with long, thick lashes, arose-tinted complexion, a pouting, red-lipped mouth and a small nosewith the most fascinating, provoking suspicion of a tip-tilt. She was assmall and daintily-fashioned as her hostess; and Wargrave thought itmarvellous that their forgotten outpost on the face of the mountainsshould hold two such pretty women at the same time. His comrade Burkewas evidently acutely conscious of Muriel Benson's attractions, and, hispleasantly ugly face aglow with a happy smile, he was flirting as openlyand outrageously with her as she with him. 

"Sure, it's a cure for sore eyes ye are, Miss Flower Face, " he said. "That's the name I christened her with the first moment I saw her, Wargrave. Doesn't it fit her?" Then turning to the girl again, hecontinued, "Aren't you ashamed av yourself for laving me to pine for asight av ye all these weary months?"

Miss Benson could claim to be Irish on her mother's side and so was aready-witted match for the doctor's Celtic exuberance; though toWargrave watching it seemed that Burke's easy banter cloaked a deeperfeeling. 

Drawn into their conversation Frank found the girl to be natural andunaffected, without a trace of conceit, gifted with a keen sense ofhumour and evidently as full of the joy of living as a school-boy. Hethought her laugh delightfully musical, and it was frequently andreadily evoked by Burke's droll remarks or the quaint oracular sayingsfrom the self-possessed elf on Wargrave's knee. Her admiration of andgenuine affection for Mrs. Dermot was very evident when Noreen joinedtheir group. 

The subaltern, covertly and critically observing her, could hardlybelieve the tales which their hostess had previously told him of thecourage and ability that this small and dainty girl had frequentlyshown. But only a few minutes' conversation with her father convincedFrank that he was an amiably weak and incompetent individual, morefitted to be a recluse and a bookworm than a roamer in wild jungleswhere his work brought him in contact with strange peoples and constantdanger. It was evident that the reputation which his large section ofthe Terai Forest bore as being well managed and efficiently run was notdue to him and that somebody more capable had the handling of the work. Hardly had Wargrave come to this conclusion and begun to believe thatthe stories that he had heard of the daughter's business ability andpowers of organisation were true when he was given a very convincingproof of her courage and coolness in danger. 

After tea, as the sun was nearing its setting and a deliciously coolbreeze blew down from the mountains, a move was made to the garden, where the party sat in a circle and chatted. When evening came and thedusk rose up from the world below, blotting out the light lingering onthe hills, Mrs. Dermot made her children say goodnight to the companyand bore them reluctant away to their beds. As the darkness deepened theservants brought out a small table and placed a lamp on it, and by itslight carried round drinks to the men of the party. Miss Benson wasleaning back in a cane chair and chatting lazily with Burke, who satbeside her. She had one shapely silk-clad leg crossed over the other, and a small foot resting on the grass. Opposite her sat Colonel Dermotand Wargrave. As the brilliant tropic stars came out in the velvetyblackness of the sky occasional silences fell on the party. A tale ofBurke's was interrupted by the Political Officer's voice, saying in aquiet forceful tone:

"Miss Benson, please do not move your foot. Remain perfectly still. Asnake is passing under your chair. Steady, Burke! Keep still!"

There was a terror-stricken hush. Frank looked across in horror. Thelamplight barely showed in the shadow under the chair a deadlyhill-viper writhing its way out within a few inches of the small footfirmly planted in its dainty, high-heeled shoe. He looked at themotionless girl. Less pale than the men about her she sat quietly, smiling faintly and apparently not frightened by the Death almosttouching her. One pink hand lay without a tremor in her lap, but theother rested on the arm of her chair and the knuckles showed white asthe fingers gripped the bamboo tightly. She did not even glance down. But the men, frozen with dread, watched the shadowy writhing linepassing her foot slowly, all too slowly, until it had wriggled out intothe centre of the circle of motionless beings. Then Colonel Dermotsprang up. Seizing his light bamboo chair in his powerful grip hewhirled it aloft and brought it crashing down on the viper, shatteringthe chair but smashing the reptile's spine in half a dozen places. 

The other men had risen from their seats; but the girl remained seatedand said quietly:

"Thank you very much, Colonel, for warning me. I might easily have movedmy foot and trodden on the snake. I've seen so many of the horrid thingsin camp lately. Now, Captain Burke, I'm sorry that the interruptionspoiled your story. Please go on with it. "

Her coolness silenced the men, who were breaking into exclamations ofrelief and congratulation. Even her father sat down again calmly. 

But Burke's enthusiastic admiration of her courage found an outlet atMess that night when he recounted the adventure to Major Hunt andappealed to Wargrave for confirmation of the story of her pluckybehaviour. Later in his room as he was going to bed Frank smiled at therecollection of the Irishman's exuberant expressions; but he confessedto himself that the girl's calm courage was worthy of every praise. 

"She is certainly brave, " he thought. "I'm not surprised at old Burke'sinfatuation. She is decidedly pretty. What lovely eyes she's got--andwhat a provokingly attractive little nose! Well, the doctor's a luckyman if she marries him. She seems awfully nice. Violet will certainlyhave two very charming women friends in the station if she hits it offwith them. "

But as his eyes rested on her pictured face his heart misgave him; forhe remembered that she had little liking for her own sex. And then, hetold himself, these two would probably refuse to know a woman who hadrun away from her husband to another man. When he had turned out thelight and jumped into bed he lay awake a long time puzzling over thetangle into which the threads of her life and his seemed to have got. Time alone could unravel it. 

He tossed uneasily on his bed, unable to sleep, and presently a slightnoise on the verandah outside caught his ear. He lay still and listened;and it seemed to him that soft footfalls of a large animal's padssounded on the wooden flooring. Then suddenly he heard a beast sniffingat his closed door. "A stray dog, " he thought. But suddenly heremembered Burke's account of the panther that haunted the Mess; and athrill of excitement ran through him and drove all his unhappy thoughtsaway. He sprang out of bed and rushed across the room to get his rifle, but in the darkness overturned a chair which fell with a crash to theground. This scared the animal; for there was a sudden scurry outside, and by the time Wargrave had found the rifle and groped for a couple ofcartridges there was nothing to be seen on the verandah when he threwopen the door. It was a brilliant star-lit night. Burke called to himfrom his room and when Wargrave went to him said that he too had heardthe animal, which was undoubtedly the panther. 

Returning to bed Frank was dropping off to sleep half an hour later whenhe was startled by a shrill, agonised shriek coming from a distance. Rifle in hand he rushed out on to the verandah again and heard faintshouts coming from a small group of Bhuttia huts on a shoulder of thehills hundreds of feet above the Mess. He called out but got no answer;and after listening for some time and hearing nothing further hereturned to bed and at last fell asleep. In the morning he learned thatthe panther had made a daring raid on a hut and carried off a Bhuttiawood-cutter's baby from its sleeping mother's side, and had devoured itin the jungle not two hundred yards away. 

The Durbar, or official ceremony of the public reception of the BhutanEnvoy and the paying over to him of the annual subsidy of a hundredthousand rupees, was held in a marquee on the parade ground in theafternoon. There was a Guard of Honour of a hundred sepoys to salute, first the Political Officer and afterwards the _Deb Zimpun_ when hearrived on a mule at the head of his swordsmen and coolies. Thesolemnity of his dignified greeting to Colonel Dermot was somewhatspoiled by shrieks of delight and loud remarks from Eileen (who wasseated beside her mother in the marquee) at the stately appearance ofthe Envoy. He was attired in a very voluminous red Chinese silk robeembroidered in gold and wearing a peculiar gold-edged cap shaped like apapal tiara. 

The Political Officer's official dinner took place that evening at hisbungalow. Besides the officers and the three European visitors the _DebZimpun_ and the _Amban_ were present. The latter wore conventionalevening dress cut by a London tailor, with the stars and ribands ofseveral orders. But the old Envoy in his flowing red silk robecompletely outshone the two ladies, although Miss Benson was wearing hermost striking frock. 

"Sure, don't we look like a State Banquet at Buckingham Palace or acharity dinner at the Dublin Mansion House?" said Burke, looking aroundthe company gathered about the oval dining-table. He was seated besideMiss Benson, who was on the host's right and facing the _Amban_ on hisleft. 

At the Durbar Wargrave had noticed that the Chinaman stared all the timeat the girl, and now during the meal he seemed to devour her with anunpleasant gaze, gloating over the beauties of her bared shoulders andbosom until she became uncomfortably conscious of it herself. Theunveiled flesh of a white woman is peculiarly attractive to the Asiatic, the better-class females of whose race are far less addicted to thepublic exposure of their charms than are European ladies. While the _DebZimpun_ touched nothing but water the _Amban_ drank champagne, port andliqueurs freely--even the untravelled Chinaman is partial to Europeanliquors--yet they seemed not to affect him. But his slanted eyes burnedall the more fiercely as their gaze was fixed on the girl opposite him. 

He endeavoured to engage her in conversation across the table, andappeared ready to resent anyone else intervening in the talk as hedilated on the gaieties and pleasures of life in London, Berlin andParis, where he had been attached to the Chinese Embassies. He glared atBurke when the doctor persisted in mentioning the panther's visit duringthe previous night, for the conversation at their end of the table thenturned on sport. A chance remark of Miss Benson on tiger-shooting madeWargrave ask:

"Have you shot tigers, too, like Mrs. Dermot? And I've never seen oneoutside a cage!"

The girl smiled, and the Colonel answered for her. 

"Miss Benson has got at least six. Seven, is it? More than my wife has. And among them was the famous man-eater of Mardhura, which had killedtwenty-three persons. The natives of the district call her 'The TigerGirl. '"

"Troth, my name for you is a prettier one, Miss Benson, " said Burkelaughing. 

She made a _moue_ at him, but said to the subaltern:

"Cheer up, Mr. Wargrave, you've lots of time before you yet. Yououghtn't to complain--you've only been a few days here and you'vealready got a splendid bison. And they're rare in these parts. "

"We'll have to find him a tiger, Muriel, " said their host. "When youhear of a kill anywhere conveniently near, let me know and we'll arrangea beat for him. "

"With pleasure, Colonel. We're soon going to the southern fringe of theforest; and, as you know, there are usually tigers to be found in the_nullahs_ on the borders of the cultivated country. I'll send you_khubber_ (news). "

"Thank you very much, " said Wargrave. "I do want to get one. "

All through the conversation the girl felt the Chinaman's bold eyesseeming to burn her flesh, and she was glad when the Political Officerspoke to him and engaged his attention. And she was still more relievedwhen dinner ended and Mrs. Dermot rose to leave the table. When the menjoined them later on the verandah Burke and Wargrave made a point ofhemming her in on both sides and keeping the _Amban_ off; for even theshort-sighted doctor had become cognisant of the Chinaman's offensivestare. 

When he and the _Deb Zimpun_ had left the bungalow she said to the twoofficers:

"I'm so glad you didn't let that awful man come near me. He makes meafraid. There's something so evil about him that I shudder when he looksat me. "

"The curse av the crows on the brute!" exclaimed Burke hotly. "Don't yebe afraid. We won't let the divil come next or nigh ye, will we, Wargrave?"

And on the following day when the visitors were entertained by athleticsports of the detachment on the parade ground and an interesting archerycompetition between excited teams of the _Deb Zimpun's_ followers andof local Bhuttias, they allowed the _Amban_ no opportunity ofapproaching her. During the sports Wargrave noticed on one occasion thathe seemed to be speaking of her to the commander of his escort ofChinese soldiers, a tall, evil-faced Manchu, pock-marked and blind ofthe right eye, who stared at her fixedly for some time. At the dinner atthe Mess that night the two ladies wore frocks that were very little_décolleté_. Burke, as Mess President, had arranged the table so thatthe _Amban_ was as far away from them as possible; and Wargrave and hemounted guard over Miss Benson when the meal was ended. 

The _Deb Zimpun_ had fixed his departure for an early hour on thefollowing morning and was to be accompanied by the Political Officer, who was going to visit the Maharajah of Bhutan. In the course of the daythe Chinese _Amban_ had announced to Colonel Dermot that he did not wishto leave so soon and desired to remain longer in Ranga Duar; but thePolitical Officer courteously but very firmly told him that he must gowith the Envoy. 

Early next morning, while Noreen Dermot was occupied with her children, and her husband was completing his preparations for departure, MurielBenson went out into the garden. Badshah, pad strapped on ready for theroad, was standing at one side of the bungalow swinging his trunk andshifting from foot to foot as he patiently awaited his master. The girlgreeted and petted him, then went to gather flowers and cut bunches ofbright-coloured leaves from high bushes of bougainvillea and poinsettiathat hid her from view from the house. 

Suddenly a harsh voice sounded in her ears. 

"I have tried to speak to you alone, but those fools were ever in myway. Do not cry out. You must listen to me. "

She started violently and turned to find the _Amban_, dressed in khakiand ready to march, behind her. Courageous as she usually was theextraordinary repulsion and terror with which he inspired her kept hersilent as he continued:

"I want you, and I shall take you sooner or later. Listen! I am one ofthe richest men in all China. One day I shall be President--and thenEmperor the next; and when I rule my country shall no longer be theeffete, despised land torn with dissension that it is now. I can giveyou everything that the heart of a woman, white or yellow, candesire--take you from your dull, poverty-stricken life to raise you topower and immense wealth. I shall return for you one day. Will you cometo me?"

The girl drew back, pale as death and unable to cry out. He glancedaround. The tall, red-leaved bushes hid them; there was no one ornothing within sight, except the elephant shifting restlessly. 

"Answer me!" he said almost menacingly. 

She was silent. He sprang forward and seized her roughly. 

"Speak! You must answer, " he said. 

The girl shrank at his touch and struggled in vain in his powerfulgrasp. 

Then suddenly she cried out:

"Badshah!"

The Chinaman thrust his face, inflamed with passion and desire, close tohers. 

"You must, you shall, come to me--by force, if not willingly, " hegrowled. "By all the gods or devils----. "

But at that instant he was plucked from her by a resistless force andhurled violently to the ground. Dazed and half-stunned he looked up andsaw the elephant standing over him with one colossal foot poised overhis prostrate body, ready to crush him to pulp. Brave as the Chinamanwas he trembled with terror at the imminent, awful death. 

But a quiet voice sounded clear through the garden. 

"_Jané do_! (Let him go!)"

The elephant brought the threatening foot to the ground but stood, withcurled trunk and ears cocked forward, ready to annihilate him if theinvisible speaker gave the word. The girl shrank against the greatanimal, clinging to it and looking with horror at the prostrate man. The_Amban_ slowly dragged his bruised body from the ground and staggeredshaken and dizzy out of the garden. 

Muriel kissed the soft trunk and laid her cheek against it, and itcurved to touch her hair with a gentle caress. Then she fled into thebungalow to find Colonel Dermot on the verandah grimly watching theChinaman stumbling blindly up the steep road. His wife beside him openedher arms to the shaken girl. 

"He shall pay for that some day, Muriel, " said the Political Officersternly. "But not yet. "

An hour later the two women watched the snaking line crawl up the steepface of the mountains, and through field-glasses they could distinguishBadshah with his master on his neck, the _Deb Zimpun_ and his followersand the tall form of the Chinaman, until all vanished from sight in thetrees clothing the upper hills. 

Benson and Carter left that afternoon, Muriel remaining to spend alonger time with her friend and, as she told Wargrave, to try and regainthe affections of the children which he had stolen from her. 

Frank was thinking of her next day as he was standing on the Messverandah after tea, cleaning his fowling-piece, when on a wooded spurrunning down from the mountains and sheltering the little station on thewest he heard a jungle-cock crowing in the undergrowth not four hundredyards away. Seizing a handful of cartridges he loaded his gun and, running down the steps and across the garden, plunged into the jungle. He walked cautiously, his rope-soled boots enabling him to movesilently, and stopped occasionally to listen for the bird's crow or thetelltale pattering over the dried leaves. Peering into the undergrowthand searching the ground he crept quietly forward. Suddenly his heartseemed to leap to his throat. In a patch of dust he saw the unmistakable_pug_ (footprint) of a large panther. One claw had indented a new-fallenleaf, showing that the animal had very recently passed. Wargrave haltedand thought hard. He had only his shotgun, but the sun was near itssetting and if he returned to the Mess to get his rifle--which was takento pieces and locked up in its case--darkness would probably fall beforehe could overtake the panther, which was possibly moving on ahead ofhim. So he resolved not to turn back, but opened the breech of his gunand extracted the cartridges. With his knife he cut their thick casesalmost through all round at the wad, dividing the powder from the shot. For he knew that thus treated and fired the whole upper portion of thecartridges would be shot out of the barrels like solid bullets and carryforty yards without breaking up and scattering the shot. 

Reloading he advanced cautiously, frequently losing and refinding thetrail. Creeping through a clump of thin bushes he stopped suddenly, frozen with horror and dread. 

In an open patch of woodland the two Dermot children stood by a tree, the girl huddled against the trunk, while the little boy had placedhimself in front of her and, with a small stick in his hand, was bravelyfacing in her defence an animal crouching on the ground not twenty yardsaway. It was a large panther. Belly to earth, tail lashing from side toside, it was crawling slowly, imperceptibly nearer its prey. With earsflattened against the skull and lips drawn back to bare the gleamingfangs in a devilish grin it snarled at the brave child whose dauntlessattitude doubtless puzzled it. 

"Don't cry, Eileen. I won't let it hurt you, " said the little boyencouragingly. "Go 'way, nasty dog!"

He raised his little stick above his head. A boy should always protect agirl, his father had often said, so he was not going to let the beastharm his tiny sister. The panther crouched lower. The watcher in thebushes saw the powerful limbs gathering under the spotted body for thefatal spring. Every muscle and sinew was tense for the last rush andleap, as the subaltern raised his gun. 

CHAPTER IX

TIGER LAND

Wargrave fired. His shot struck the panther rather far back, woundingbut not disabling it. It swung round to face its assailant. Seeing Frankit promptly charged. The second cartridge took it in front of theshoulder and raked its body from end to end. Coughing blood the beastrolled over and over, biting its paws, clawing savagely at the earth, trying to rise and falling back in fury, while Frank rapidly reloadedand stepped between it and the children. But the convulsions becamefewer and less violent, the limbs stiffened, the beautiful black andyellow body sank inert to the ground. The tail twitched a little. A fewtremors shook the panther. Then it lay still. 

The subaltern turned eagerly to the children. 

"It's Frank. Look, Eileen, it's Frank, " cried Brian. "He's killed thenasty dog. "

The little girl, who had sunk to the ground, struggled to her feet andwith her brother was swept up in a joyous embrace by the subaltern. Then, bidding the boy hold on to the sleeve of the arm carrying the gun, Wargrave started back with Eileen perched on his shoulder. As theypassed the panther's body she looked down at it and clapped her hands. 

"He's deaded. Nasty, bad dog!" she cried. 

Striking a path through the undergrowth the subaltern climbed down thesteep ravine that lay between the hill and the Political Officer'sbungalow. As he struggled up the steep side of the _nullah_ he heardtheir mother calling the children with a note of inquietude in hervoice; and he answered her with a reassuring shout. Coming up on thelevel behind the low stone wall of the garden he found Mrs. Dermot andMuriel anxiously awaiting him. 

"Mumsie! Hallo, Mumsie! Here's me. Fwank shooted bad dog, " cried Eileen, waving her arms and kicking her bearer violently in her excitement. 

"Yes, Mumsie, Frank killded the nasty dog that wanted to eat us, " addedBrian. 

Wargrave passed the children over the wall into the anxious armsoutstretched for them, then vaulted into the garden. 

"What has happened, Mr. Wargrave?" asked Mrs. Dermot, pressing herchildren to her nervously. "What is this about your shooting a dog?"

The subaltern told the story briefly. 

"Oh, my babies! My babies!" cried the mother with tears in her eyes, clasping the mites to her breast and kissing them frantically. Thelittle woman who had many times faced death undauntedly at her husband'sside broke down utterly at the thought of her children's peril. 

She overwhelmed Wargrave with her thanks, while Muriel complimented himon his promptness and presence of mind and then scolded the urchins fortheir disobedience in wandering away from the garden by themselves. Butthe unrepentant pair smiled genially at her from the shelter of theirmother's arms and assured her that "Fwankie" would always take care ofthem. Their mother, even when she grew more composed, could not besevere after so nearly losing them; but although unwilling to terrifythem by a recital of the awful fate from which the subaltern had savedthem by the merest chance, she impressed upon them again and again heroft-repeated warning that they must never leave the garden alone. 

But they were not awed; so, bidding them thank and kiss him, she borethem off to bed, her eyes still full of tears. 

Wargrave sent a servant to fetch his orderly and the detachment _mochi_, or cobbler, to skin the panther, the news of the death of which soonspread. So Major Hunt and Burke joined Miss Benson and the subalternwhen they went to look at its body, and numbers of sepoys streamed upfrom the Fort to view the animal, which had long been notorious in thestation. Lamps had to be brought to finish the skinning of it; and thehide, when taken off, was carried in triumph to the Mess compound to becured. 

On the following afternoon on the tennis-court in a corner of theparade ground Miss Benson was left with Burke and Wargrave when Mrs. Dermot had taken her children home at sunset. 

"You've completely won her heart, " the girl said to the subaltern, pointing with her racquet to the disappearing form of her friend. "Nothing's too good for you for saving these precious mites. But she'llnever let them out of her sight again until their big nurse returns. "

"You mean their elephant? Well, of course he's a marvellouslywell-trained animal; but is he really so reliable that he can always betrusted to look after those children?"

"Badshah is something very much more than a well-trained animal. Perhapssome time out in the jungle you may understand why the natives regardhim as sacred and call Colonel Dermot the 'God of the Elephants. ' Youdon't know Badshah as we do. "

"Well, old Burke here has told me some strange yarns about him. But, ashe's always pulling my leg, I never know when to believe him. "

The doctor grinned. 

"We won't waste words on him, Captain Burke, " said the girl. "It's timeto go home now. "

They escorted her to the Dermots' bungalow, where the doctor lingeredfor a few more minutes in her society, while Wargrave climbed up to theMess and went to look at the panther's skin pegged out on the groundunder a thick coating of ashes and now as hard as a board after a day'sexposure to the burning sun. 

A few days later Miss Benson left the station to rejoin her father inone of the three or four isolated wooden bungalows built to accommodatethe Forest Officer in different parts of his district, each one lost andlonely in the silent jungle. For days after her departure Burke wasvisibly depressed; and Wargrave, too, missed the bright and attractivegirl who had enlivened the quiet little station during her stay. 

A fortnight later Colonel Dermot returned from Bhutan; and his gratitudeto the subaltern for the rescue of his children was sincere andheart-felt. He was only too glad to take the young man out into thejungle on every possible occasion and continue his instruction in theways of the forest. This companionship and the sport were particularlybeneficial to Wargrave just then. For they served to take him out ofhimself and raise him from the state of depression into which he wasfalling, thanks to Violet's letters, the tone of which was becoming morebitter each time she wrote. 

Her reply to his long and cheery epistle describing Ranga Duar's unusualburst of gaiety during the Envoy's visit and his own rescue of thechildren was as follows:

 "You do not seem to miss me much among your new friends. While I am leading a most unhappy and miserable life here you appear to be enjoying yourself and giving little thought to me. You are lucky to have two such very beautiful ladies to make much of you; and I daresay they think you a wonderful hero for saving the little brats who, if they are like most children, would not be much loss. Their mother seems extremely friendly to you for such a devoted wife as you try to make her out to be. Or perhaps it is the girl you admire most; this marvellous young lady who shoots tigers and apparently manages the whole Terai Forest. You say you love me; but you don't seem to be pining very much for me. While each day that comes since you left me is a fresh agony to me, you appear to contrive to be quite happy without me. "

This letter stung Wargrave like the lash of a whip across the face. Todo Violet justice no sooner had she sent it than she regretted it. Butdeeply hurt as he was by the bitter words he forgave her; for he feltthat her life was indeed miserable and that he was unconsciously in agreat measure to blame for its being so. But it maddened him to realisehis present helplessness to alter matters. He was more than willing tosacrifice himself to help her; but it would be a long time before hecould hope to save enough to pay his debts and make a home for her. Whether it was wicked or not to take away another man's wife did notoccur to him; all that he knew was that a woman was unhappy and he alonecould help her. It seemed to him that the sin--if sin there were--wasthe husband's, who starved her heart and rendered her miserable. 

In his distress work and sport proved his salvation. He threw himselfheart and soul into his duty, and whenever there was nothing for him todo with the detachment Major Hunt encouraged him to go with thePolitical Officer into the jungle. For little as he suspected it thesenior guessed the young man's trouble and watched him sympathisingly. 

One never-to-be-forgotten day as Wargrave was returning from afternoonparade Colonel Dermot called to him from his gate and showed him atelegram. It ran: "Tiger marked down. Come immediately _dâk_ bungalow, Madpur Duar. Muriel. "

As the subaltern perused it with delight the Colonel said:

"Ask your C. O. For leave. Then, if he gives it, get somethingsubstantial to eat in the Mess and be ready to start at once. MadpurDuar is thirty odd miles away; and we'll have to travel all night. Cometo my bungalow as soon as you can. "

Half an hour later the two were trudging down the road to the_peelkhana_ carrying their rifles. Badshah, with a _howdah_ roped on tohis pad, plodded behind them; for it is far more comfortable to walkdown a steep descent than be carried down it by an elephant. At the footof the hills they mounted and were borne away into the gathering shadowsof the long road through the forest. As they proceeded their talk wasall of tigers; for in India, though there be bigger and more splendidgame in the land, its traditional animal never fails to interest, andto Wargrave on his way to his first tiger-shoot all other topics wereinsignificant. 

The sun went down and darkness settled on the forest. The talk died awayand no sound was heard but the soft padding of their elephant's hugefeet in the dust of the road. The subaltern soon found the _howdah_infinitely more trying than a seat on the pad when Badshah was inmotion; for the plunging gait of the animal jerked him backwards andforwards and threw him against the wooden rails if he forgot to holdhimself at arm's length from them. The discomfort spoiled hisappreciation of the strange, attractive experience of being borne bynight through the sleepless forest, where in the dark hours only thebird and the monkey repose; and even to them the creeping menace of theclimbing snake affrights the one and the wheeling shapes of thenight-flying birds of prey scare the other. But on the ground all areawake. The glimmering whiteness of the road was occasionally blotted bythe scurrying forms of animals, hunted and hunters, dashing across it. Once a tiny shriek in the distance broke the silence of the jungle. 

"A wild elephant, " said Colonel Dermot. 

Then followed the loud crashing of rending boughs and falling trees. 

"That's a herd feeding. They graze until about ten o'clock and thensleep on well into the small hours, wake and begin to feed again atdawn, " continued the Political Officer. 

Once a wild, unearthly wailing cry that seemed to come from everydirection at once startled the subaltern:

"Good Heavens! what's that?" he exclaimed, gripping his rifle and tryingto pierce the darkness around them. 

"Only a Giant Owl, " was the reply. "It's an uncanny noise. There!"

Right over their heads it rang out again; and the stars above them wereblotted out for a moment by a dark, circling shape above the tree-tops. 

Hour after hour went by as they were borne along through the night; andWargrave bruised and battered by the _howdah_-rails, fell constantlyagainst them, so overcome with sleep was he. At last to his relief hiscompanion called a halt for a few hours' rest; and they brought theelephant to his knees, dismounted and stripped him of _howdah_ and pad. Sitting on the latter they supped on sandwiches and coffee from Thermosflasks, and then stretched themselves to sleep, while Badshah standingover them grazed on the grasses and branches within reach. Wargrave wasdropping off to sleep when he was roused by the sharp, _staccato_ barkof a _khakur_ buck repeated several times. The tired man lostconsciousness and was sunk in profound slumber when the silence of theforest was shattered by a snorting, braying roar that rang through thejungle with alarming suddenness. 

Wargrave sprang up and groped for his rifle. But his companion laytranquilly on the pad. 

"It's all right. It's only a tiger that's missed his spring and is angryabout it, " he said sleepily. "Lie down again. "

"Only a tiger, sir?" repeated Wargrave. "But it sounded close by. "

"Yes, but Badshah will look after us. Don't worry"; and the Colonelturned over and fell asleep. 

It was a little time, however, before Frank followed his example, and hehad his rifle under his hand when he did. But the dark bulk of theelephant towering over them comforted him as he sank to sleep. 

A couple of hours later they were on their way again. It was broaddaylight before they emerged from the jungle. It seemed strange to beout once more in the wide-stretching, open and cultivated plains and tolook back on the great forest and, beyond it, to the mountains toweringto the sky. Before them lay the flat expanse of the hedgeless, fertilefields dotted here and there with clusters of trimly-built huts or thickgroves of bamboos and seamed with the lines of deep _nullahs_, the topsof the trees in them barely showing above the level and marking theirwinding course. 

The _dâk_ bungalow at Madpur Duar was soon reached, a single-storiedbuilding with a couple of trees shading the well behind it and a groupof elephants and their _mahouts_. On the verandah Benson and hisdaughter were standing, the girl dressed in a khaki drill coat and skirtover breeches and soft leather gaiters, and waving a welcome toBadshah's riders. 

After a hurried breakfast the latter were ready to start for the day'ssport. By then a line of ten female elephants, the tallest carrying a_howdah_, the rest only their pads, was drawn up before the bungalow;and at a word from their _mahouts_ their trunks went up in the air andthe animals trumpeted in salute as the party came out on the verandah. 

"We borrowed Mr. Carter's and the Settlement Officer's elephants for thebeat, " said Miss Benson, as, wearing a big pith sunhat and carrying adouble-barrelled . 400 cordite rifle, she led the way down the verandahsteps. 

It had been arranged that she was to take Wargrave with her in her_howdah_, while her father accompanied Colonel Dermot on Badshah. Herbig elephant knelt down and a ladder was laid against its side, up whichshe climbed, followed by the subaltern. When all were mounted she ledthe way across the plain. Although the ground was everywhere level andjust there uncultivated the elephants tailed off in single file as isthe habit of their kind, wild or domesticated, each stepping withprecise care into the footprints of the one in front of it. Here in thePlains the heat was intense; and Wargrave, shading his eyes from theblinding glare, thought enviously of the coolness up in the mountainsthat he had left. As they moved along Muriel explained to him how thebeat was to be conducted. 

Where the southern fringe of the Terai Jungle borders the cultivatedcountry it is a favourite haunt of tigers, which from its shelter carryon war against the farmers' cattle. Creeping down the ravines seamingthe soft soil and worn by the streams that flow through the forest fromthe hills they pull down the cows grazing or coming to drink in the_nullahs_, which are filled with small trees and scrubs affording goodcover. A tiger, when it has killed, drags the carcase of its prey intoshade near water, eats a hearty meal of about eighty pounds of flesh, drinks and then sleeps until it is ready to feed again. If disturbed itretreats up the ravine to the forest. 

So, beating for one with elephants here, the sportsmen place themselveson their _howdah_-bearing animals between the jungle and the spot wherethe tiger is known to be lying up, and the beater elephants enter thescrub from the far side and shepherd him gently towards the guns. 

Pointing to a distant line of tree-tops showing above the level plainshe said:

"There is the _nullah_ in which, about a mile farther on, a cow waskilled yesterday. I hope the tiger is still lying up in it. We'll soonsee. "

They reached the ravine, which was twenty or thirty feet deep andcontained a little stream flowing through tangled scrub, and moved alongparallel to it and about a couple of hundred yards away. Presently thegirl pointed to a tall tree growing in it and a quarter of a mile aheadof them. Its upper branches were bending under the weight of numbers offoul-looking bald-headed vultures, squawking, huddled together, jostlingeach other on their perches and pecking angrily at their neighbours withirritable cries. Some circled in the air and occasionally swooped downtowards the ground only to rocket up again affrightedly to the sky; forthe tiger lay by its kill and resented the approach of any daring birdthat aspired to share the feast. Muriel hurriedly explained how theconduct of the birds indicated the beast's presence. 

"If he were not there they'd be down tearing the carcase to pieces, " shesaid, as she held up her hand and halted the file behind her. 

"The beater elephants had better stop here, Colonel, " she called out toDermot. "There is a way down and across the _nullah_, by which you cantake Badshah to the far side. We will remain on this. "

The Political Officer, who had seen and realised the significance of thevultures, waved his hand and moved off at once. Muriel called up the_mahouts_ and bade them enter the ravine and begin the beat in about tenminutes, then told her driver to go on. Half a mile beyond the tree sheordered him to halt and take up a position close to the edge of the_nullah_, into which they could look down. Below them the bottom wasclear of scrub which ended fifty yards away. Dermot stopped opposite;and both elephants were turned to face towards the spot where the tigerwas judged to be. 

"Mr Wargrave, get to the front of the _howdah_ and be ready, " she saidin a low tone. 

The subaltern protested chivalrously against taking the best place. 

"Oh, it's all right. We've brought you out to get the tiger; so you mustdo as you're told. If he breaks out this side take the first shot, " shesaid peremptorily. 

He submitted and took up his position with cocked rifle. As the _nullah_wound a good deal the tops of the trees in it prevented them from seeingif the beater-elephants had gone in; but in a few minutes they hearddistant shouts and the crashing of the undergrowth as the big animalsforced their way through the scrub. 

"Be ready, Mr. Wargrave, " whispered the girl. "Sometimes a tiger startson the run at the first sound. "

His nerves a-quiver and his heart beating violently the subaltern heldhis rifle at the ready, as the noise of the beaters drew nearer. Againand again he brought the butt to his shoulder, only to lower it when herealised that it was a false alarm. The sounds of the beat grew louderand closer, and still there was no sign of the tiger. Frank's heartsank. He saw the vultures stir uneasily and some rise into the air asthe elephants passed under them. 

At last through the trees he began to catch occasional glimpses of the_mahouts_, and he lost hope. But suddenly from the scrub below them inthe _nullah_ a number of small birds flew up; and the next instant theedge of the bushes nearest them was parted stealthily and a tiger slunkcautiously out in the bottom of the ravine. 

Wargrave's rifle went up to his shoulder; and he fired. A startled roarfrom the beast told that it was hit; but it bounded in a flash acrossthe ravine and up the steep bank on their side not forty yards fromthem. As it scrambled swiftly over the edge it caught sight of theelephant and with a deep "wough!" charged straight at it. 

Frank fired again, and his bullet struck up the dust, missing theswift-rushing animal by a couple of feet. The next moment with a roarthe tiger sprang at the elephant. With one leap it landed with its hindpaws on the elephant's head, its fore-feet on the front rail of the_howdah_, standing right over the _mahout_ who crouched in terror on theneck. The savage, snarling, yellow-and-black mask was thrust almostinto Wargrave's face, and from the open red mouth lined with fiercewhite fangs he could feel the hot breath on his cheek as he tuggedfrantically at the under-lever of his rifle to open the breech andre-load. In another moment the tiger would have been on top of them inthe _howdah_ when a gun-barrel shot past the subaltern and pushed himaside. The muzzle of Muriel's rifle was pressed almost against thebrute's skull as she fired. 

Frank hardly heard the report. All he knew was that the snarling facedisappeared as quickly as it had come. The whole thing was an affair ofseconds. Shot through the brain the tiger dropped back to the groundwith a heavy thud and fell dead beside the staunch elephant which hadnever moved all through the terrible ordeal. 

A cry of relief and a prayer to Allah burst from the grey-beardedMahommedan _mahout_, as he straightened himself; and Wargrave turnedwith glowing face and outstretched hand to the girl. 

"Oh, well done! Splendidly done!" he cried. "You saved me from beinglugged bodily out of the _howdah_ or at least from being mauled. Thislever jammed and I couldn't re-load. "

Her eyes shining and face beaming with excitement she shook his hand. 

"Wasn't it thrilling? I thought he'd have got both of us. " Then to the_mahout_ she continued in Urdu, "Gul Dad, are you hurt?"

The man was solemnly feeling himself all over. He stared at a rent inthe shoulder of his coat, torn by the tiger's claw. It was the onlyinjury that he had suffered. He put his finger on it and grumbled:

"Missie-_baba_, the _shaitan_ (devil) has torn my coat. "

In the reaction from the strain the girl and Wargrave went off in pealsof laughter at his words. 

"But are you not wounded?" Miss Benson repeated. "Has it not clawedyou?"

The _mahout_ shook his head. 

"No, missie-_baba_; but it was my new coat, " he insisted. [1]

 [1] A similar incident occurred in real life near Alipur Duar in Eastern Bengal to a lady and an officer on a female elephant named Dundora during a beat. But in this case it was the man that killed the tiger with his second rifle when it was standing on the elephant's head with its fore-paws on the _howdah_-rail. I can personally testify to Dundora's immobility when facing a charging tiger. --THE AUTHOR. 

Frank looked down at the tiger stretched motionless on the yellow grass. 

"By George, you shot him dead enough, Miss Benson!" he exclaimed. 

She stared down at the animal. 

"Yes; but it's well to be careful. I've seen a tiger look as dead asthat and yet spring up and maul a man who approached it incautiously, "she said. 

She raised her rifle and covered the prostrate animal. 

"Throw something at it, " she continued. 

Wargrave took out a couple of heavy, copper-cased cartridges and flungthem one by one at the tiger's head, striking it on the jaw and in theeye. The animal did not move. 

"Seems dead enough, " said the girl, lowering her rifle. "Here come thebeaters. "

The other elephants had now burst out in line through the scrub. Their_mahouts_ shouted enquiries to Gul Dad and when they heard of thetiger's death cheered gleefully, for it meant _backsheesh_ to them. Badshah was seen to be searching for a way down into the nullah and in afew minutes brought his passengers up alongside Miss Benson and thesubaltern. Her father and Dermot congratulated the girl warmly; and thelatter, having made Badshah kick the tiger to make certain that it wasdead, dismounted and examined it. 

"Here's your shot, Wargrave, " he said, pointing to a hole in the belly. "A bit too low, but it made a nasty wound that would have killed thebeast eventually. "

"I'm so ashamed of missing it with my second barrel, sir, " said thesubaltern. "But for Miss Benson I'd have been a gone coon. "

"Yes, it certainly looked exciting enough from our side of the_nullah_, " said the Colonel, smiling; "so what must it have been likefrom where you were? Well, anyhow it's your tiger. "

"Oh, nonsense, sir; it's Miss Benson's. I ought to be kicked for beingsuch a muff. "

"Jungle law, Mr. Wargrave, " said the girl, laughing "You hit it first, so it's your beast. "

"You needn't be ashamed of missing it, " added the Colonel. "A chargingtiger coming full speed at you is not an easy mark. No; the skin isyours; and Muriel has so many that she can spare it. "

"Well, Miss Benson, I accept it as a gift from you; but I won'tacknowledge that I have earned it, " said the subaltern. 

"Now, we'd better pad it and see about getting back, " said Dermot, looking at his watch. 

The other elephants had now found their way up the bank and joinedBadshah and his companion. When their _mahouts_ heard from Gul Dad thestory of the tiger's death they exclaimed in amazement and admiration:

"_Ahré, Chai_! (Oh, brother!) Truly the missie-_baba_ is a wonder. Shewill be the death of many tigers, indeed, " they said. 

Then each in turn brought his elephant up to the prostrate animal andmade her smell and strike it with her trunk in order to inspire her withcontempt for tigers. Colonel Dermot measured it with a tape and found itto be nine feet six inches from nose to tip of tail. It was a young, fully-grown male in splendid condition. Then came the troublesomebusiness of "padding" it, that is, hoisting it on to the pad of one ofthe elephants to bring it back to the bungalow to be skinned. It was notan easy matter. For the tiger weighed nearly three hundred and fiftypounds; and to raise the limp carcase, which sagged like a feather bedat every spot where there was not a man to support it, was a difficulttask. But it was achieved at last; and with the tiger roped firmly on apad the elephants started back in single file. 

As they went over the plain in the burning sun Wargrave looked back towhere the striped body was borne along with stiff, dangling legs. 

"By Jove, it's been great, Miss Benson, " he exclaimed. "Some people saytiger shooting's not exciting. They ought to have been with us to-day. Iam lucky to have got a bison already and now to have seen this. Withluck I'll be having a shot at an elephant next. "

The girl replied in a serious tone:

"Don't say that to Colonel Dermot. Elephants are his especial friends. Besides, you are only allowed to shoot rogues; and since he's been herethere have been none in these jungles which formerly swarmed with them. There's no doubt that he has a wonderful, uncanny control over even wildelephants. Do you know that once a rajah tried to have him killed in hispalace by a mad tusker, which had just slaughtered several men, and themoment the brute got face to face with him it was cowed and obeyed himlike a dog?"

"Good gracious, is that so?"

"Yes, I could tell you even more extraordinary things about his powerover elephants; but some day when you're in the jungle with him you maysee it for yourself. Oh, isn't it hot? I do wish we were home. "

Arrived at the _dâk_ bungalow the tiger's carcase was lowered to theground and given over to the knives of the flayers summoned from the_bazaar_ of Madpur Duar a mile away. As soon as the news was known inthe small town crowds of Hindu women streamed to the bungalow compound, where with their _saris_ (shawls) pulled modestly across their brownfaces by rounded arms tinkling with glass bangles they squatted on theground and waited patiently until the skin was drawn clear off the rawred carcase. Then they crowded around a couple of the older _mahouts_who, first cutting off all the firm white fat of the well-fed cattlethief to be melted down for oil (esteemed to be a sovereign remedy forrheumatism), hacked the flesh into chunks which they threw into theeager hands of the women. These took the meat home to cook for theirhusbands to eat to instil into them the spirit and vigour of a tiger. The skin, spread out and pegged to the ground, was covered with woodashes and left to dry. Little of the animal was left but the bones, tothe disappointment of the wheeling, whistling kites waiting on soaringwings in the sky above. 

After tea the two officers took their leave with many expressions ofgratitude from the younger man to the girl for her kindness in arrangingthe beat for him. Hours afterwards, as they halted in the forest for arest in the middle of the night, Colonel Dermot said:

"You told me once that you'd like a job like mine, Wargrave. Would youcare for frontier political work here?"

"I'd love it, sir, " exclaimed the subaltern enthusiastically. "Would itbe possible to get it?"

"Well, I've been thinking for some time of applying to the Government ofIndia for an assistant political officer who would help me and take overif I went on leave, but I'd want to train my own man and not merelyaccept any youngster who was pitchforked into the Department justbecause he had a father or an uncle with a pull at Simla. Now, if youlike I'll apply for you, on condition that you'll work at Bhutanese andthe frontier dialects. I'll teach them to you. "

"I'd like nothing better, sir. I'm not bad at languages. "

"Yes, I've noticed that your Hindustani is very good and idiomatic. I'vebeen watching you and I like your manner with natives. One must besympathetic, kind and just, but also firm with them. Well, I'll tryyou. The rainy season will be on us very soon, and then all outdoor workand sport will be impossible. One dare not go into the jungle--it's toofull of malaria and blackwater fever. The planters and Forest Officershave to cage themselves in wire gauze 'mosquito houses. ' During therains you'll have plenty of time to work at the languages. "

"Thank you very much, Colonel. I promise you I'll go at them hard. "

"You'll have a fellow-student for part of the time. Miss Benson's comingto stay with us during the Monsoons for a bit; and she has asked me toteach her Bhutanese, too. She wants it, as she has to deal with Bhuttiawoodcutters and hill folk generally. Well, that's fixed. Goodnight. "

"Goodnight, sir, " answered the subaltern, as he lay down on the pad andstared at the stars. He was overjoyed at Colonel Dermot's offer, and ashe dropped asleep it was with a thrill of pleasure that he realised hewould see something more of the girl who had been his companion thatday. 

CHAPTER X

A POLITICAL OFFICER IN THE MAKING

The lightning spattered the heavens and tore the black sky into athousand fragments, the thunder crashed in appalling peals of terrifyingsound which echoed again and again from the invisible mountains. Therain fell in ropes of water that sent the brown, foam-flecked torrentssurging full-fed down every gully and ravine in the mist-wrapped hills. The single, steep road of Ranga Duar was now the rocky bed of a racingflood inches deep that swirled and raged round Wargrave's high rubberboots as he waded up towards the Mess clad in an oilskin coat, off whichthe rain splashed. He was glad to arrive at the garden gate, turn inthrough it, climb the verandah steps, and reach his door. Here he flungaside his coat and kicked off the heavy boots. 

Entering his room he pulled on his slippers, filled his pipe withtobacco from a lime-dried bottle and sat down at his one rickety tableat the window. Then he took out of his pocket and laid before him amanuscript book filled with notes on the frontier dialects taken at thelesson with Colonel Dermot from which he had just come. He opened itmechanically but did not even glance at it. His thoughts were elsewhere. 

Months had elapsed since the day on which he had seen his first tigerkilled. Not long afterwards the Rains had come to put a stop to descentsinto the jungle. But his interest in the preparation for his new workcompensated him for the imprisonment within walls by the terribletropical storms and the never-ceasing downpour. He had flung himselfenthusiastically into the study of the frontier languages, of whichColonel Dermot proved to be a painstaking and able teacher. Miss Benson, who had returned to Ranga Duar and remained there longer than she hadoriginally intended, owing to fever contracted in the jungle, joined himin these studies and astonished her fellow-pupil by her aptitude andquickness of apprehension. But her presence proved disastrous to him. Thrown constantly together as they were, spending hours every day sideby side, the subaltern realised to his dismay that he was falling inlove with the girl. 

It would have been strange had it been otherwise so pretty andattractive was she. Often Mrs. Dermot, peeping into her husband's officeand seeing the dark and the fair head bent close together over a book, smiled to herself, well-pleased at the thought of her favourites beingmutually attracted. To her husband the thought never occurred. Men arevery dull in these matters. 

But to Wargrave the realisation of the truth was unbearable. He waspledged to another woman, whose heart he had won even if unconsciously, who was willing for love of him to give up everything and face theworld's censure and scorn. He could not play her false. He had given herhis word. He could not now be disloyal to her without utterly wreckingall her chances of happiness in life and dishonouring himself for everin his own eyes. Muriel Benson had left the station ten days ago torejoin her father; and Wargrave had instantly felt that he dared not seeher again until he was irrevocably and openly bound to Violet. So he hadwritten to her on the morrow of the girl's departure and, without givingher the real reason for his action, begged her to come to him at once, enclosing, as he was now able to do, a cheque for her expenses. Itseemed to him that only by her presence could he be saved from being atraitor to his word. 

As soon as he had sent the letter he went to his Commanding Officer andtold him everything. It was not until he was actually explaining hisconduct that he realised that he should have obtained his permissionbefore inviting Violet to come, for Major Hunt, as Commandant of theStation, had the power to forbid her residing in or even entering it. 

The senior officer listened in silence. When the subaltern had finishedhe said:

"I've known about this matter since you came, Wargrave. Your Colonelwrote me--as your new C. O. --what I considered an unnecessary and unfairletter giving me the reason of your being sent here. But Hepburn, whomI know slightly, discovered I was here and also wrote explaining mattersmore fully and, I think, more justly. "

The subaltern looked at him in surprise; but his face brightened at theknowledge of his former commander's kindness. 

"Now, Wargrave, we've got on very well together so far, you and I. Ihave always been satisfied with your work, and was glad to help you byagreeing to Colonel Dermot's application for you. I believe that youwill make a good political officer, otherwise I wouldn't have doneso--even though I'm your debtor for saving me from that snake----. "

"Oh, Major, that was nothing, " broke in the subaltern. "Anyone wouldhave done it. "

"Yes, I know. But it happened that you were the anyone. Now, I'm goingto talk to you as your friend and not as your commanding officer. Frankly, I am very sorry for what you have just told me. I was hopingthat Time and separation were curing you--and the lady--of your folly. Believe me, only unhappiness and misery can come to you both from it. "

"Perhaps so, sir; but I'm bound in honour. "

The older man shook his head sadly. 

"Is honour the word for it? I'll make a confession to you, Wargrave. Youconsider me a bachelor. Well, I'm not married now; but I was. When I wasa young subaltern I was thrown much with a married woman older thanmyself. I was flattered that she should take any notice of me, for shewas handsome and popular with men, while I was a shy, awkward boy. Shesaid she was 'being a mother' to me--you know what a married woman'mothering' boys leads to in India. She used to tell me howmisunderstood she was, neglected, mated to a clown and all that. " (Frankgrew red at certain memories. ) "Women have a regular formula whenthey're looking for sympathy they've no right to. I pitied her. I feltthat her husband ought to be shot. Looking back now I see that he wasjust the ordinary, easy-going, indifferent individual that most husbandsbecome; but then I deemed him a tyrant and a brute. Well, I ran awaywith her. "

He paused and passed his hand wearily across his brow. 

"There was the usual scandal, divorce, damages and costs that plunged meinto debt I'm not out of yet. We married. In a year we were heartilysick of each other--hated, is nearer the truth. She consoled herselfwith other men. I protested, we quarrelled again and again. At last weagreed to separate; and I insisted on her going to England and stayingthere. I couldn't trust her in India. Living in lodgings and Bayswaterboarding-houses wasn't amusing--she got bored, but I wouldn't have herback. She took to drinking and ran up debts that I had to pay. Then--and I selfishly felt glad, but it was a happy release forboth--she died. Drank herself to death. Now you know why I'd be sorrythat another man should follow the path I trod. "

He was silent. Wargrave felt an intense sympathy for this quiet, kindlyman whose life had been a tragedy. He had guessed from the first thathis senior officer had some ever-present grief weighing on his soul. Hewould have given much to be able to utter words of consolation, but hedid not know what to say. 

Major Hunt spoke again. 

"You must dree your own weird, Wargrave. If the lady wishes to comehere--well, I shall not prevent her; but the General, when he knows ofit, will not permit her to remain. But you have to deal with ColonelDermot. You had better tell him. You might go now. "

Without a word the subaltern left the bungalow. He went straight to thePolitical Officer and repeated his story. Colonel Dermot did notinterrupt him, but, when he had finished, said:

"I have no right and no wish to interfere with your private life, Wargrave, nor to offer you advice as to how to lead it. Your work is allthat I can claim to criticise. Of course I see, with Major Hunt, thedifficulty that will arise over the lady's remaining in this smallstation, where her presence must become known to the Staff. If you areboth resolved on taking the irretrievable step it would be wiser todefer it until you were elsewhere. I don't offer to blame either of you;for I don't know enough to judge. "

"Well, sir, I--perhaps you won't want me under you--and Mrs. Dermot--youmightn't wish me to----, " stammered the subaltern, standing miserablybefore him. 

"Oh, yes; you'll make a good political officer none the less, " said theColonel smiling. "And you need not be afraid of my wife turning awayfrom you with horror. If she can be a friend to the lady she will. Asfor you, well, you saved our children, Wargrave"--he laid his hand onthe young man's shoulder--"you are our friend for life. I shall notrepeat your story to my wife. Perhaps some day you may like to tell itto her yourself. "

Wargrave tried to thank him gratefully, but failed, and, picking up hishat, went out into the rain. 

That was days ago; and no answer had come from Violet, so that thesubaltern lived in a state of strain and anxious expectation. Indeed, some weeks had passed since her last letter, as usual an unhappy one;and, sitting staring out into the grey world of falling rain turned toflame every minute by the vivid lightning, he racked his brains to guessthe reason of her silence. 

A jangle of bells sounded through the storm. Glancing out Wargrave sawa curiously grotesque figure climb the verandah steps from the gardenand stand shaking itself while the water poured from it. It was analmost naked man, squat and sturdy-limbed, with glistening wet brownskin, an oilskin-covered package on his back, a short spear hung withbells in his hand. It was the postman. For a miserable pittance hejogged up and down the mountains in fine weather or foul, carrying HisMajesty's Mails, passing fearlessly through the jungle in peril of wildbeats, his ridiculous weapon, the bells of which were supposed tofrighten tigers, his only protection. 

Wargrave opened the door and went out to him. The man grinned, unslungand opened his parcel. From it he took out a bundle of letters, handedthem to the subaltern, and went on to knock at Burke's door with hiscorrespondence. Frank returned to his room with the mail which containedthe official letters for the detachment, of which he was still acting asadjutant. He threw them aside when he saw an envelope with Violet'shandwriting on it. He tore it open eagerly. 

To his surprise the letter was addressed from a hotel in Poona, thelarge and gay military and civil station in the West of India, a fewhours' rail journey inland from Bombay. He skimmed through it rapidly. 

She wrote that, utterly weary of the dullness of Rohar, she had gone toPoona to spend part of the festive and fashionable season there and wasnow revelling in the many dances, dinners, theatricals and othergaieties of the lively station. Everybody was very kind to her, especially the men. She was invited to the private entertainments atGovernment House, and His Excellency the Governor always danced withher. Her programme was crowded at every ball; and she had been asked totake one of the leading parts in "The Country Girl" to be produced bythe Amateur Dramatic Society. She had two excellent ponies with which tohunt and to join in _gymkhanas_. She wished Frank could be with her; butprobably he was enjoying himself more with his wild beasts and TigerGirls. As to his proposal that she should go to him at once in thatlittle station he must have been mad when he made it. For had they notdiscussed the matter thoroughly and decided that they must wait? Shepresumed that he had not suddenly come into a fortune. From hisdescription of Ranga Duar and its inhabitants it could be no place forher under the circumstances. No; there was nothing to do but to wait. Besides, it was so very jolly now at Poona. Frank must not be animpatient boy; and she sent him all her love. His cheque she had tornup. 

The subaltern whistled, read the letter again very carefully, folded andput it away. What had come to Violet? This was so unlike her. Still, hehad to confess to himself that he was relieved at not yet having tocross the Rubicon. Perhaps she was right; it might be better to wait. Hewas glad to know that for a time at least she was away from theuncongenial surroundings of Rohar and again enjoying life. He wentthrough the official correspondence, shoved it in his pocket, put oncoat and boots and splashed through the water down the road to theCommanding Officer's bungalow. When they had discussed the officialletters and drafted answers to them Wargrave told Major Hunt of the gistof Violet's reply. The senior officer nodded, but said nothing about itand went on to talk of other matters. 

Next day the subaltern informed Colonel Dermot, who made no comment anddid not refer to the matter again. His wife, ignorant of Mrs. Norton'sexistence, delighted to talk to Wargrave about Muriel, a topic alwaysinteresting to him, dangerous though it was to his peace of mind. Histhoughts were constantly with the girl, and he sought eagerly for newsof her when occasional letters came to Mrs. Dermot from her, touringtheir wide forest district with her father. 

Frank had never been able to fathom Burke's feelings towards her. TheIrishman's manner to her in public was always light-hearted andcheerfully friendly; but the subaltern suspected that it concealed adeeper, warmer feeling. He betrayed no jealousy of Frank's constantcompanionship with her when she took part in his studies; and hisfriendly regard for his younger brother officer never altered. On herside the girl showed openly that she shared the universal liking thatthe kindly, pleasant-natured doctor inspired. 

The weary months of the rainy season dragged by; but the subaltern spentthem to advantage under Colonel Dermot's tuition and, possessing theknack of readily acquiring foreign languages, made rapid progress withBhutanese, Tibetan and the frontier dialects, his good ear for musichelping him greatly in getting the correct accent. Anotheraccomplishment of his, a talent for acting, was of service; for thePolitical Officer wished him to be capable of penetrating into Bhutan indisguise if need be. So he taught him how to be a merchant, peasant, nobleman's retainer or a lama Red or Yellow, of the country--but alwaysa man of Northern Bhutan and the Tibetan borderland, for his height andblue eyes were not unusual there, though seldom or never seen in thesouth. Frank was carefully instructed in the appropriate manners, customs and expressions of each part that he played, how to eat andbehave in company, how to walk, sit and sleep. But he specialised as alama, for in that character he would meet with the least interference inthe priest-ridden country. He was taught the Buddhist chants and how todrone them, how to carry his praying-wheel and finger a rosary to themurmured "_Om mani padmi hung_" of the Tibetans, and--for he wassomething of an artist--how to paint the Buddhist pictorial Wheel ofLife, the _Sid-pa-i Khor-lô_ or Cycle of Existence that the gentleGautama, the Buddha, himself first drew and that hangs in the vestibuleof every lamasery to teach priest and layman the leading law of theirreligion, Re-birth. 

Colonel Dermot was helped in his instruction of his pupil by his chiefspy and confidential messenger, an ex-monk from a great monastery inPunaka, the capital of Bhutan. This man, Tashi, before he wearied of thecloistered life and fled to India, had been always one of the principalactors in the great miracle plays and Devil Dances of his lamasery, forhe was gifted with considerable histrionic talent. He delighted inteaching Wargrave to play his various _rôles_, for he found thesubaltern an apt pupil. 

As soon as the rains ended the Political Officer began to take hisdisciple with him on his tours and patrols along the frontier. Alonethey roamed on Badshah among the mountains on which the border ran in aconfusedly irregular line. Sometimes with or without Tashi they crossedinto Bhutan in disguise and wandered among the steep, forest-clad hillsand deep, unhealthy valleys seamed with rivers prone to sudden floodsthat rose in a few hours thirty or forty feet. Wargrave marvelled at theengineering skill of the inhabitants who with rude and imperfectappliances had thrown cantilever bridges over the deep gorges of thismountainous southern zone. Among the dull-witted peasants in thevillages he practised the parts that he had learned, speaking little atfirst and taking care to mingle Tibetan and Chinese words with thelanguage of Bhutan to keep up the fable of his northern birth. He soonpromised to be in time as skilfull in disguise as his tutor. 

Colonel Dermot was anxious to investigate the activities of the Chinese_Amban_, reputed to reach their height in the territory just across theIndian border ruled by the Tuna Penlop and lying west of the BlackMountain range that divides Bhutan. This great feudal chieftain wasreputed to be completely under the influence of Yuan Shi Hung and bothanti-British and disloyal to his overlord the Maharajah or TongsaPenlop. The close watch that his myrmidons kept on the stretch offrontier between his territories and India prevented Dermot fromlearning what went on behind the screen; for the spies of the PoliticalOfficer's Secret Service could not penetrate it and bring back news. 

Wargrave was present when the last sturdy-limbed Bhuttia emissaryreported his failure to cross the line. As the man withdrew the Colonelturned to Frank and said:

"We'll go ourselves. I wanted to avoid it if possible; for it wouldn'tdo for me to be caught. Not only because it would cause politicalcomplications, for I'm not supposed to trespass on Bhutanese territoryuninvited, but also because fatal accidents might happen to us if YuanShi Hung and his friends get hold of us. I'm not anxious to die yet. Beready to start at midnight. "

"Do you really think we'll be able to get through, sir?" queried thesubaltern. "How shall we do it?"

"Wait and see, " was the curt reply. 

Before the sun rose next day Badshah was deep in the forest, bearing thetwo officers and Tashi on his back. He moved rapidly along animal pathsthrough the jungle in a direction parallel with the mountains. Junglefowl whirred up from under his feet, deer crashed away through theundergrowth as he passed; but never a shot was fired at them, thoughrifles and guns were in the riders' hands. Little brown monkeys peepeddown at them from the tree-tops or leapt away along the air lanes amongthe leafy branches, swinging by hand or foot, springing across thevoids, the babies clutching fast to their mothers' bodies in the dizzyflights. 

In the afternoon a distant crashing, which told of trees falling beforethe pressure of great heads and the weight of huge bodies, made Wargraveask:

"Wild elephants, sir?"

Dermot nodded. 

"Sounds as if they were right in our path. Shall we see them?"

"Yes. Don't touch that!" said the Colonel sharply; for the excitedsubaltern, who had never yet seen a wild herd, was reaching for hisrifle. Wargrave obeyed, remembering Miss Benson's remark on thePolitical Officer's love of the great animals. 

Soon unmistakable signs showed that they were on the track of a herd;and presently Frank caught sight of a slate-coloured body in theundergrowth, then another and another. As he was wondering how theanimals would receive them Badshah emerged on an open glade filled withelephants of all ages and sizes, from new-born woolly calves a barethree feet at the shoulder to splendid tuskers nine feet ten inches inheight and lean, ragged-eared old animals a hundred and thirty years ofage. All were regarding the newcomer and their trunks were raised topoint towards him, while from their throats came a low purring sound, which appeared to the subaltern to have more of pleasure than menace init. Instead of seeming hostile or alarmed they behaved as though theyhad expected and were welcoming their domesticated brother. This was soevident that Frank felt no fear even when they closed in on Badshah andtouched him with their trunks. 

Dermot, smiling at his companion's amazement, said:

"This is Badshah's old herd, Wargrave, and they're used to him and me. I've come in search of them, for it is by their aid that I propose toenter Bhutan. "

And the subaltern was still more surprised when the animals, whichnumbered over a hundred, fell in behind Badshah--cows with calvesleading, tuskers in rear--and followed him submissively in single fileas he headed for the mountains. When night fell they were climbing abovethe foot-hills under the vivid tropic stars. 

A couple of hours before midnight the leader halted, and the line behindhim scattered to feed on the bamboos and the luscious grasses, thoughthe younger calves nuzzled their mothers' breasts. Badshah sank to hisknees to allow his passengers to dismount and relieve him of his pad. The three men ate and then wrapped themselves in their blankets, for itwas very cold high up in the mountains, and stretched themselves tosleep, as the great animals around them ceased to feed and rested. Badshah lowered himself cautiously to the ground and lay down near hismen. 

Before Wargrave lost consciousness he marvelled at Dermot's uncannypower over the huge beasts around them--a power that could make theseshy mammoths thus subservient to his purposes. He began to understandwhy his companion was regarded as a demigod by the wild jungle-folk andhill-dwellers. 

When at daybreak the herd moved on again, climbing ever higher in themountains, the three men lay flat on Badshah's back and coveredthemselves with their grey blankets lest vigilant watchers on the peaksaround might espy them. Thus do the _mahouts_ of the _koonkies_, ortrained female elephants employed in hunting and snaring wild tuskers, conceal themselves during the chase. 

But darkness shielded them effectively when the herd swept at lengththrough a rocky pass on the frontier-line between India and Bhutan, andwith cries of fear and dismay armed men seated around watch-fires fledin panic before the earth-shaking host. The screen was penetrated. 

Daylight found them on the banks of a broad, swift-flowing river in avalley between the range of mountains through which they had passed anda line of still more formidable and snow-clad peaks. The elephants swamthe wide and rushing water, for of all land animals their kind are thebest swimmers. The tiniest babies were supported by the trunks of theirmothers, on to whose backs older calves climbed and were thus carriedacross. Without stopping the herd plunged into the awful passes of thenext range, of which they were not clear until the evening of thefollowing day. Then they halted in dense forest. 

Next morning Dermot took from the pockets of Badshah's pad the dressesand other things that they needed for their disguises, and instead ofreplacing the pad concealed it carefully. Then he said:

"We'll leave our escort here, Wargrave, and carry on by ourselves; forwe are not far from inhabited and cultivated country, and indeed fairlynear the _Jong_ (castle) of our enemy the Penlop of Tuna. "

The wild elephants were feeding all around, paying no heed to them. TheColonel turned to Badshah and pointing to the ground said one word:

"_Raho_! (Remain!)"

Then he continued to Wargrave:

"We'll find them, or they'll find us, whenever we return. "

An hour later two elderly lamas in soiled yellow robes and horn-rimmedspectacles, followed by a lame coolie carrying their scanty possessions, emerged, rosary and praying-wheel in hand, from the forest into thecultivated country. 

For some weeks they wandered unsuspected through the Tuna Penlop'sdominions and even penetrated into his own _jong_, where they wereentertained and their prayers solicited by his cut-throat retainers. They learned enough to realise that the _Amban_ was endeavouring by thefree supply of arms and military instructors to form here the nucleus ofa trained force to be employed eventually against India, backed up byreinforcements of Chinese troops and contingents from other parts ofBhutan. 

Their investigations completed they returned safely to the forest inwhich they had left the herd; and, much to Wargrave's relief, they hadnot been many hours camped on the spot where they had parted with themwhen Badshah and his wild companions appeared. The spies returned toIndia as they had come, unseen and unsuspected. 

This excursion was but the first of many that Wargrave made with theColonel and the herd; and he soon began to know almost every member ofit and make friends, not only with the solemn but friendly littlecalves, but even with their less trusting mothers. He was now thoroughlyat home in the jungle and no longer needed a tutor in sport. His oneroom in the Mess began to be overcrowded with trophies of his skill withthe rifle. Other tiger-skins had joined the first; and, although he hadnot secured a second bison, several good heads of _sambhur_, _khakur_and _cheetul_, or spotted deer, hung on his whitewashed stone walls. 

Thus with sport and work more fascinating than sport Wargrave found themonths slipping by. From Raymond he learned that Violet had returned toRohar before she wrote herself. When she did she seemed to be in abrighter and more affectionate, as well as calmer, mood than she hadbeen before her visit to Poona. But gradually her letters became lessand less frequent; and Frank began to wonder--with a little sense ofguilty, shamed hope--if she were beginning to forget him. 

Christmas came; and with its coming Ranga Duar woke again to life. Besides the Bensons and Carter, who now brought his wife, Mrs. Dermot'sbrother--a subaltern in an Indian cavalry regiment--and five planters, old friends of his from the district in which he had once been a planterhimself, came to spend Christmas in the small station. Major Hunt'sbungalow and the Mess took in the overflow from the Political Officer'shouse. 

Brian and Eileen had the gayest, happiest time of their little lives. Presents were heaped on them. Muriel and Frank initiated them into allthe delights of their first Christmas tree, and Burke introduced them toa real Punch and Judy Show. On Christmas Day Badshah, his neck encircledwith a garland of flowers procured from the Plains, was led up solemnlyby his seldom-seen _mahout_ to present Colonel Dermot with a gilded limeand receive in return a present of silver rupees which passed into thepossession of the said _mahout_. Then he was fed with dainties by thechildren; and Eileen insisted on being tossed aloft by the curvingtrunk, to the detriment of her starched party frock. 

The weather was appropriate to the season, cold and bright, and althoughno snow fell so low down, it froze at night, so that the Europeans couldindulge in the luxury--in India--of gathering around blazing wood firesafter dinner. 

All, young and old, thoroughly enjoyed this almost English-likeChristmas--all except one. Burke's attentions to Muriel became moremarked and more full of meaning than they had ever been before; and itwas patent that he intended to put his fate to the touch during thisvisit of hers. He did so without success, it seemed; for before she leftthere was an evident sense of constraint between them and they tried toavoid sitting beside each other or being left alone together, even for amoment. Shortly after the departure of the visitors Burke contrived toeffect an exchange to another station, to the regret of all in thelittle outpost, and he was replaced by a young Scots surgeon, namedMacdonald, his opposite in every way. 

CHAPTER XI

TRAGEDY

The annual Durbar for the reception of the Bhutan Envoy and the paymentof the subsidy had come and gone again. The _Deb Zimpun_, who had notbeen accompanied by the Chinese _Amban_ on this occasion, had departed;and of the few European visitors only Muriel Benson remained. ColonelDermot had been called away to Simla, to confer with officials of theForeign Department on matters of frontier policy. Major Hunt was illwith fever, leaving Wargrave, who was still nominally attached to theMilitary Police, in command of the detachment. 

It was delicious torture to Frank to be in the same place again withMuriel, to see her from the parade ground or the Mess verandah playingin the garden with the children, to meet her every day and talk to herand yet be obliged to school his lips and keep them from uttering thewords that trembled on them. 

A few nights after the Durbar he dined with Mrs. Dermot and Muriel andwas sitting on the verandah of the Political Officer's house with themafter dinner. He was wearing white mess uniform. The evening was warmand very still, and whenever the conversation died away, no sound savethe monotonous note of the nightjars or the sudden cry of abarking-deer, broke the silence since the echoes of the "Lights Out"bugle call had died away among the hills. 

Wargrave looked at his watch. 

"It's past eleven o'clock, " he said. "I'd no idea it was so late. Iought to get up and say goodnight; but I'm so comfortable here, Mrs. Dermot. "

His hostess smiled lazily at him but made no reply. Again a peacefulhush fell on them. 

With startling suddenness it was broken. From the Fort four hundredyards away a rifle-shot rang out, rending the silence of the night andreverberating among the hills around. Wargrave sprang to his feet asshouts followed and a bugle shrilled out the soul-gripping "Alarm, " thecall that sends a thrill through every soldier's frame. For always ittells of disaster. Heard thus at night in barracks swift following on ashot it spoke of crime, of murder, the black murder of a comrade. 

The two women had risen anxiously. 

"What is it? Oh, what is it?" they asked. 

The subaltern spoke lightly to re-assure them. 

"Nothing much, I expect. Some man on guard fooling with his rifle let itoff by accident, " he said quietly. "Excuse me. I'd better stroll acrossto the Fort and see. "

But Mrs. Dermot stopped him. 

"Wait a moment please, Mr. Wargrave, " she said, running into the house. She returned immediately with her husband's big automatic pistol andhanded it to him. In her left hand she held a smaller one. "Take thiswith you. It's loaded, " she said. 

Frank thanked her, said goodnight to both calmly, and walked down thegarden path; but the anxious women heard him running swiftly across theparade ground. 

"What is it, Noreen? What does it mean?" asked the girl nervously. 

"A sepoy running amuck, I'm afraid, " replied her friend. "He's shotsomeone----. "

She swung round, pistol raised. 

"_Kohn hai_? (Who's that?)" she called out. 

A man had come noiselessly on to the shadowed end of the verandah. 

"It is I, _mem-sahib_, " answered Sher Afzul, her Punjaubi Mahommedanbutler. He had been in her service for five years and was devoted to herand hers. He was carrying a rifle, for his master at his request hadlong ago given him arms to protect his _mem-sahib_. Before her marriagehe had once fought almost to the death to defend her when her brother'sbungalow had been attacked by rebels during a rising. 

"It would be well to go into the house and put out the lights, _mem-sahib_, " he said quietly in Hindustani. "There is danger to-night. "

As he spoke he extinguished the lamp on the verandah and closed thedoors of the house. A second armed servant came quietly on to theverandah and the butler melted into the darkness of the garden; but theyheard him go to the gate as if to guard it. 

"You had better go inside, Muriel, " said Mrs. Dermot, but made no moveto do so herself. 

The girl did not appear to hear her. She was listening intently for anysound from the Fort. But silence had fallen on it. 

"Muriel, won't you go into the house?" repeated her hostess. 

"Eh? What? No, I couldn't. I must stay here, " replied Miss Bensonimpatiently. In the black darkness the other woman could not see her;but she felt that the girl's every sense was alert and strained to theutmost. She moved to her and put her arm about her. Against it she couldfeel Muriel's heart beating violently. 

Suddenly from the Fort came the noise of heavy blows and a crash, instantly followed by a shot and then fierce cries. 

"Oh, my God! What is happening?" murmured the girl, her hand on herheart. 

Presently there came the sound of running feet, and heavy bootsclattered up the rocky road towards the Mess past the gate. 

Then the butler's voice rang out in challenge:

"_Kohn jatha_? (Who goes there?)"

A panting voice answered:

"Wargrave Sahib _murgya_. Doctor Sahib _ko bulana ko jatha_"--(WargraveSahib is killed. I go to call the Doctor Sahib)--and the sepoy ran on inthe darkness. 

"O God! O God!" cried the girl, and tried to break from her friend'sclasp. "Let me go! Let me go!"

"Where to?" asked Noreen, holding the frenzied girl with all herstrength. 

"To him. He's dead. Didn't you hear? He's dead. I must go to him. "

She struggled madly and beat fiercely at the hands that held her. 

"Let me go! Let me go! Oh, he's dead, " she wailed. "Dead. And I lovedhim so. Oh, be merciful! Let me go to him!" and suddenly her strengthgave way and she collapsed into Noreen's arms, weeping bitterly. 

They heard the clattering steps meet others coming down the hill and ahurried conversation ensue. Noreen recognised one of the voices. Thenboth men came running down. 

"It's the doctor, " said Mrs. Dermot. "Come to the gate and we'll ask himwhat has happened. "

"Mr. Macdonald! Mr. Macdonald!" she cried as the hurrying footsteps drewnear. 

"Who's that? Mrs. Dermot? For God's sake get into the house. There's aman running amuck. Wargrave's killed. I'm wanted"; and the doctor, taking no thought of danger to himself when there was need of his skill, ran on into the darkness. 

"I must--I will go!" cried Muriel. 

"Very well. Perhaps it's not true. We must know. We may be able tohelp, " replied her friend. 

And with a word to Sher Afzul to guard her babies from danger she seizedMuriel's hand, and the two girls ran towards the Fort in the track thatWargrave had followed to his death, it seemed. 

 * * * * *

Pistol in hand Wargrave had raced across the parade ground. At the gateof the Fort he was challenged; and when he answered an Indian officercame out of the darkness to him. 

"Sahib, " he said hurriedly. "Havildar Mahommed Ashraf Khan has been shotin his bed in barracks. The sentry over the magazine is missing with hisrifle. "

Wargrave entered the Fort. Opposite the guard-room the detachment wasfalling in rapidly, the men carrying their rifles and running up fromtheir barrack-rooms in various stages of undress. By the flickeringlight of a lantern held up for him a non-commissioned officer wascalling the roll, and his voice rumbled along in monotonous tones. Theguard were standing under arms. 

"Put out that lamp!" cried the subaltern sharply. It would only serve tolight up other marks for the invisible assassin if, like most men whorun _amôk_, he meant to keep on killing until slain himself. "No; takeit into the guard-room and shut the door. "

In the darkness the silence was intense, broken only by the heavybreathing of the unseen men and the clattering of the feet of somelate-comer. Suddenly there rang out through the night the most appallingsound that had ever assailed Wargrave's ears. It was as the cry of alost soul in all the agony of the damned, an eerie, unearthly wail thatfroze the blood in the listeners' veins. In the invisible ranks menshuddered and clutched at their neighbours. 

"_Khuda ke Nam men, kiya hai?_ (In the Name of God, what is that?)"gasped the subaltern. 

The Indian officer at his side answered in a low voice:

"It is Ashraf Khan crying out in pain, Sahib. He is not yet dead. "

"_Subhedar_ sahib, come with me, " said Wargrave. "Let your _jemadar_(lieutenant) take the men one by one into the guard-room and examine therifles to see if any have been fired. We don't know yet if the missingsentry did the deed. "

The _Subhedar_ (company commander) gave the order to his subordinate andfollowed Wargrave to the barrack-room in which the crime had beencommitted. The sight that met the subaltern's eyes was one that he wasnot easily to forget. 

The high-roofed chamber was in darkness save at one end where a smalllamp cast weird shadows on the walls and vaulting ceiling. At this endand under the flickering light a group of figures stood round a bed onwhich a man was writhing in agony. He was struggling in delirious frenzyto hurl himself to the stone floor, and was only held down by the unitedefforts of three men. From a bullet wound in his bared chest thelife-blood welled with every movement of his tortured body. He had beenshot in the back as he lay asleep. The lips covered with a bloody frothwere drawn back tightly over the white teeth clenched in agony, and redfoam lay on the black beard. Out of the sweat-bathed, ghastly face theeyes glared in frenzy. The features were contorted with pain. Again andagain the wild shrieks like the howl of a mad thing rang through thelong room and out into the night. 

With tear-filled eyes and heart torn with pity Wargrave looked down athim in silence. Ashraf Khan was one of his best men. "But where is thedoctor sahib?" he asked the native officer suddenly. 

The _subhedar_ stared and shook his head. In the excitement no one hadthought of sending for the medical officer. Wargrave turned to one ofthe men around the bed. 

"Mahbub Khan, run hard to the Mess and call the doctor sahib. Here, stop!" He remembered that Macdonald did not possess a revolver. For allone knew he might encounter the murderer on his way. Wargrave thrustMrs. Dermot's pistol into the sepoy's hand, saying, "Give the sahibthat. "

The man, who was barefoot, ran out of the chamber and went to his ownbarrack-room for his shoes, for the road was rocky and covered withsharp stones. The subaltern turned away with a sigh from the bedside ofhis poor comrade. He could do nothing now but avenge him. As he walkedaway from the group he trod on an empty cartridge case and picked it up. It had recently been fired. It told its tale; for it showed that theassassin had reloaded over his victim and intended that the killingshould not end there. If he were the missing sentry then he had ninemore cartridges left--nine human lives in his blood-stained hand. And asthe subaltern crossed the verandah outside the barrack-room the_jemadar_ met him and reported that all the rifles of the detachment hadbeen examined and found clean except the missing weapon of the sentry, ayoung Pathan sepoy called Gul Mahommed. It was remembered that the dying_havildar_ (sergeant) had reprimanded him hotly on the previous day forappearing on parade with accoutrements dirty. So little a cause wasneeded to send a man to his death!

The first thing to be done now was to hunt for the murderer. While hewent free no one's life was safe. Wargrave shuddered at the thought ofdanger coming to Muriel or her friend, and he hoped that they weresafely shut in their house. It was a difficult problem to know where tobegin the search. The Fort was full of hiding-places, especially atnight. And already the assassin might have escaped over the low wallsurrounding it. As Wargrave stood perplexed another Indian officer ranup, accompanied by two men with rifles. 

"Sahib! Sahib!" he whispered excitedly. "The murderer is in my room, theone next that in which Ashraf Kahn was shot. I left the door wide openwhen I ran out. It is now shut and bolted from the inside and someone ismoving about in it. "

The subaltern went along the verandah to the door and tried it. It wasfirmly fastened. 

"Here, sahib!" cried a sepoy who ran up with a comrade carrying a heavylog. 

"_Shahbash_! (Well done!) Break in the door, " said Wargrave. 

Other men, who had come up, seized the long log and dashed it violentlyagainst the door. The bolt held, but the frail hinges gave way and thedoor fell in. 

"Stand back!" cried Wargrave. 

It seemed certain death to enter the room in which a murderer lurked indarkness, armed with a rifle and fixed bayonet and resolved to sell hislife dearly. But the subaltern did not hesitate. He was the only sahibthere and of course it was his duty to go in. He could not ask his mento risk a danger that he shirked himself. That is not the officer'sway, whose motto must ever be "Follow where I lead. "

Wargrave sprang into the room unarmed. He was outlined against the faintlight outside. A spurt of flame lit the darkness; and the subaltern, ashe tripped over the raised threshold, felt that he was shot. Hestaggered on. A rifle lunged forward and the bayonet stabbed him in theside; but with a desperate effort he closed with his unseen assailantand grappled fiercely with him. Struggling to overpower the assassinbefore his ebbing strength left him he fought madly. The Indian officersand sepoys blocking up the doorway could see nothing; but they couldhear the choking gasps, the panting breaths, the muttered curses and thestamping feet of the combatants locked in the death-grapple. They couldnot interfere, they dared not fire. In impotent fury they shouted:

"Bring lamps! Bring lamps!"

Then, groaning in their powerlessness to aid their beloved officer, theylistened, as a light danced over the stones from a lantern in the handof a running sepoy. The moment it came and lit up the scene they rushedon the murderer wrestling fiercely with Wargrave and dragged him off asthe subaltern collapsed and fell to the ground. The glare of the lanternshone on his white face. 

"The sahib is dead!" cried a sepoy, and sprang at the murderer who wasstruggling in the grip of the two powerfully-built Indian officers. Others followed him, and his captors had to fight hard and use all theirauthority to keep the prisoner from being killed by the bare hands ofhis maddened comrades. Only the arrival of the armed men of the guardsaved him. 

Frenzied with grief the sepoys bent over their officer lying motionlessand apparently dead on the stone floor. They loved him. Many of themwept openly and unashamed. The _subhedar_ knelt beside him and openedhis shirt. The blood had soaked through the white mess-jacket thatWargrave wore. 

The native officer looked up into the ring of brown faces bent over him. Suddenly he cried angrily:

"Mahbub Khan, why hast thou not gone for the doctor sahib as thou werttold, O Son of an Owl?"

The face staring in horror between the heads of the sepoys was hurriedlywithdrawn, and Mahbub Khan, who had lingered to see the end of thetragedy, turned and pushed his way out of the crowd. 

Macdonald found the subaltern lying to all appearances dead on thebroken door out in the open, where they had gently carried him. 

"Hold a light here, " he cried as he knelt down beside the body. 

By now a dozen lanterns or more lit up the scene. The doctor laid hisear against Wargrave's chest and held a polished cigarette case to hislips. Then he pulled back the shirt to examine his injuries. 

"Oh, is he dead? Is he dead?" cried a trembling voice. 

The doctor, looking up angrily, found Miss Benson and Mrs. Dermotstanding over him. The sepoys had silently made way for them. 

"You shouldn't be here, ladies, " he said with justifiable annoyance. "This is no place for you. No; he's not dead. And I hope and think thathe won't die. "

"Oh, thank God!" cried the two women. 

The sepoys crowding round and hanging on the doctor's verdict could notunderstand the words but saw the look of joyous relief on their facesand guessed the truth. A wild, confused cheer went up to the stars. 

"Mr. Macdonald, " said Mrs. Dermot bending over him again. "Will youbring him to my house? There is no accommodation for him in your littlehospital, you know; and he'd have no one to look after him in the Mess. I can nurse him. "

The doctor straightened himself on his knee and looked down at theunconscious man. 

"Yes, Mrs. Dermot, it's a good idea, " he replied. "There is nowhere elsewhere he'd get any attention. My hands are full with Major Hunt. He'staken a turn for the worse. His temperature went up dangerously highto-night; and he was almost delirious. "

He stood up. 

"I can't examine Wargrave properly here. He seems to be wounded in twoplaces. But I hope it's not--I mean, I think he'll pull through. Hispulse is getting stronger. I've put a first dressing on; and I think wecan move him. Hi! stretcher _idher lao_. (Bring the stretcher here!)"

Suddenly Wargrave opened his eyes and looked up in the doctor's face. 

"Is that you, Macdonald?" he asked dreamily. "Never mind me; I'm allright. Go to poor Ashraf Khan. If he must die, at least give himsomething to put him out of his misery. I can wait. "

His voice trailed off, and he relapsed into unconsciousness. Orderinghim to be carried away the doctor, after a word with the Indianofficers, entered the barrack-room. It was useless. Ashraf Khan had justdied. 

The crowd fell back in a wide circle to let the two hospital orderliesbring up the stretcher for Wargrave and, as they did, left a group ofmen standing isolated in the centre. All of these were armed, except onewhose hands were pinioned behind his back. His head was bare, his facebruised and bleeding, and his uniform nearly torn off his body. Itneeded no telling that he was the murderer. 

Miss Benson walked up to him with fierce eyes. 

"You dog!" she cried bitterly in Urdu. 

The man who had smiled defiantly when the hands of his raging comradeswere seeking to tear the life out of his body and had shouted out hiscrime in their faces, cowered before the anger in the flaming eyes ofthis frail girl. He shrank back between his guards. The sepoys lookingon howled like hungry wolves and, as Mrs. Dermot drew the girl back, made a rush for the murderer. The men of the guard faced them withlevelled bayonets and ringed their prisoner round; and the sepoys fellback sullenly. 

Suddenly a shrill voice cried in Hindustani:

"Make way! Make way there! What has happened?"

The circle of men gapped and through the opening came Major Hunt, white-faced, wasted, shaking with fever and clad only in pyjamas and agreat coat and with bare feet thrust into unlaced shoes. He staggeredfeebly in among them, revolver in hand. 

"Heaven and Earth! Is Wargrave dead?" he cried and tottered towards thestretcher. 

Suddenly the pistol dropped from his shaking hand and he fell forward onthe stones before Macdonald could catch him. 

"This is madness, " muttered the doctor. "It may kill him. I hoped hewouldn't hear the alarm. "

"Bring him to my house too, " said Mrs. Dermot. 

Another stretcher was fetched, the Major lifted tenderly into it, andthe sad procession started, the sepoys falling back silently to makeway. 

Major Hunt having been put to bed in one of the guest-rooms of thePolitical Officer's house, Macdonald, with the aid of the subaltern'sservant, undressed Wargrave and examined his injuries, Noreen holding abasin for him while Muriel, shuddering, carried away the blood-tingedwater and brought fresh. The shot-wound, though severe, was notnecessarily dangerous, and the bullet had not lodged in him. The doctorwas relieved to find that the bayonet had not penetrated deeply but hadonly glanced along a rib, tearing the intercostal muscles and inflictinga long, jagged but superficial wound which bled freely. Indeed, the mostserious matter was the great loss of blood, which had weakened thesubaltern considerably. 

Wargrave did not recover consciousness until early morning. When heopened his eyes they fell on Muriel sitting by his bed. He showed nosurprise and the girl, scarce daring to believe that he was awake andknew her, did not venture to move. But as he continued to look steadilyat her she gently laid her hand on his where it lay on the coverlet. 

Then in a weak voice he said:

"Dearest, I mustn't love you, I mustn't. I'm bound in honour--bound toanother woman and I must play the game. It's hard sometimes. But if Idie I want you to know I loved you, only you. "

Her heart seemed to stop suddenly, then beat again with redoubled force. Was he conscious? Was he speaking to her? Did he know what his wordsmeant? She waited eagerly for him to continue; but his hand closed onhers in a weak grip and, shutting his eyes, he seemed to sleep. The girlsank on her knees beside the bed and stared at the pale face that inthose few hours had grown so hollow and haggard. Did he really love her?The thought was joy--until the damning memory of his other wordsrecurred to her and a sharp pain pierced her heart. There was anotherwoman then--one who held his promise. Who was she? He could not besecretly married, surely; no, it must be that he was engaged to someother girl. But he loved her--her, Muriel. He wanted to say so, he hadsaid so, though he strove to hold back, in honour bound. He would playthe game--ah! that he would do at any cost to himself. For she knew hischivalrous nature. But he loved her--she was sure of it. Then the doubtscame again--did he know what he was saying? Was it perhaps only deliriumthat spoke, the fever of his wounds? The girl suffered an agony worsethan death as she knelt beside the bed, her forehead on his hand. AndNoreen, entering softly an hour later, found her still crouched there, weeping bitterly but silently. 

Shortly after sunrise Macdonald entered the house, wan and haggard, forhe had not been to bed all night. Besides the hours that he had spentwith his patients he had been busy in the Fort all night. He had to makean autopsy of the dead man, and, as the only officer available, investigate the crime, examine the witnesses and the prisoner who calmlyconfessed his guilt, and telegraph the news of the occurrences toRegimental, Divisional and Army Headquarters. He found Major Huntsleeping peacefully; but Wargrave woke as he tiptoed into the room andlooked up at him, at first not seeing the women. He was fully consciousand asked eagerly for an account of what had happened. Noreen and Murielshuddered at the delight with which he heard of the murderer's capture;for they were too tender-hearted to understand his passionate desire toavenge the cruel slaying of one of his men. When he turned away fromMacdonald and saw Muriel his eyes shone eagerly for a moment, thenseemed to dull as memory returned to him. He begged Mrs. Dermot toforgive him for upsetting her domestic arrangements by his intrusioninto the house. 

Later in the morning Noreen was sitting alone with him, having sentMuriel to lie down for a couple of hours. She had not been to bedherself, but after a bath and a change of clothing had given herchildren their breakfast and bidden them make no noise, because theirbeloved "Fwankie" was lying ill in the house. Yet she could not forbearto smile when she saw the portentous gravity with which Eileen tiptoedout into the garden to tell Badshah the news and order him to be veryquiet. 

Now, looking fresh and bright, she sat beside Wargrave's bed. Since thedoctor had left him he had lain thinking. He felt that Violet must beinformed at once that he had been hurt but was in no danger, lest shemight learn of the occurrence through another source and believe him tobe worse than he really was. As he looked at Mrs. Dermot the desire toask her instead of Macdonald if she would be the one to communicate withMrs. Norton grew overwhelming, and he felt that he wanted to confide toher the whole story, sure that she would understand. And she could tellMuriel--for he had been quite conscious when he had spoken to the girlin the morning. It was only right that she should know the truth, but heshrank from telling it to her himself. 

So he opened his heart to Noreen; and the understanding little womanlistened sympathisingly and made no comment, and undertook to explainthe situation to Muriel. So, an hour or two later, when Macdonald wasagain with the subaltern, she went to her friend's room and told her thewhole story. 

The girl's first feeling was anger at the thought of Frank making loveto a married woman. 

"Seems to me it's the married woman who made it to him, from what I cangather, " said Noreen, a little annoyed with Muriel for her way ofreceiving the story. "He did not say so, but it was easy to guess thetruth. Now, my dear, don't be absurd. Men are not angels; and if apretty woman flings herself at the head of one of them it's hard forhim to keep her at arm's length. And you've seen yourself in Darjeelinghow some of them, the married ones especially, do chase them. " Her eyesgrew hard as she continued, "I remember how Kevin once was----. " Thenshe stopped. 

"But Frank! How could he? Oh, how could he? And he loved her, " sobbedthe girl. 

"Don't be silly, Muriel. I tell you I don't believe he ever did. Heloves you now. "

"Oh, do you think he does? What am I to do?"

"Nothing. Merely go along as you've been doing. Just be friendly. Anddon't be hard on him. He's had a bad time. I've always felt that therewas something troubling him. Now I know; and I'm not going to let himruin himself and throw away his happiness for a woman who's not worthit. He's the nicest, cleanest-minded man I've known after Kevin and mybrother. He saved my babies, and for that I'd do anything for him. Ifeel almost as if he were one of my children; and I'll stand by him ifyou won't. "

"Oh, but I will, I will, " cried the girl. "But how can I help him?"

"As I said, by acting as if nothing had happened and just keeping onbeing friends. It oughtn't to be hard. See how he's suffering and thinkhow brave he's been. Remember, he loves you; and you do care for him, don't you? I've an idea that he hopes that this woman is tiring of himand may set him free. Of course he didn't say as much, but----. " Shenodded sagely. Her intuition had told her more of his feelings in aminute than Frank had dared to acknowledge to himself in many months. "Anything I can do to help to bring that about I will. "

The days went by; and Wargrave, aided by his clean living, the devotednursing that he received, and the cool, healthy mountain air, began tomend. Major Hunt had recovered and returned to duty, relieving theofficer sent from Headquarters to command during his illness. ColonelDermot had come back from Simla with Frank's appointment to thePolitical Department as his assistant in his pocket. The murdered manhad long ago been laid to rest by his comrades; but his slayer still satfettered in the one cell of the Fort awaiting the assembling of theGeneral Court Martial for his trial, and seeing from his barred windowthe even routine of the life that had been his for three years stillgoing on, but with no place in it for him. 

The period of Wargrave's convalescence was a very happy time for him. Muriel had remained a whole month after the eventful night; for Mrs. Dermot declared that, with the care of her house and children, she hadno time to nurse the subaltern, and the girl must stay to do it while hewas in any danger. So she lingered in the station to do him willingservice, wait on him, chat or read to him, give him her arm when he wasfirst allowed to leave his room, and did it all with the bright, cheerful kindness of a friend, no more. She never alluded to his wordsto her; but her patient somehow guessed that she had not been angered bythe revelation of the state of his feelings towards her. And from thetenderness of her manner to him, the unconscious jealousy that shedisplayed if anyone but she did any service for him, he began to halfhope, half fear, that she cared a little for him in return. But even ashe thought this he realised that he must not allow her to do so. 

At last the time came when she had to return to her father down in thevast forest; and bravely as she said goodbye to everyone--and most ofall to Frank--the tears blinded her as she sat on the back of theelephant that bore her away and saw the hills close in and shut from hergaze the little station that held her heart. 

Wargrave, however, was not left to pine in loneliness after herdeparture. All day long, if they were allowed, the children stayed withhim, Eileen smothering him with caresses at regular intervals. They toldhim their doings, confided their dearest secrets to him and demandedstories. And "Fwankie" racked his brains to recall the fairy tales ofhis own childhood to repeat to the golden-haired mites perched on hisbed and gazing at him in awed fascination, the girl uttering littleshrieks at all the harrowing details of the wicked deeds of GiantBlunderbore and the cruel deceit of the wolf that devoured RedRidinghood. 

But the subaltern, had a grimmer visitor one day. The orders came atlast for Gul Mahommed to be sent to Calcutta to stand his trial withoutwaiting for Wargrave's recovery, the latter's evidence being taken oncommission. The prisoner begged that he might be allowed to see thewounded officer before he left; and, Frank having consented, he wasbrought to the subaltern's bedroom when he was marched out of the Forton the first stage of his journey to the gallows. 

It was a dramatic scene. The stalwart young Pathan in uniform with hiswrists handcuffed stood with all the bold bearing of his race by thebedside of the man that he had tried to kill, while two powerful sepoysarmed with drawn bayonets hemmed him in, their hands on his shoulders. 

The prisoner looked for a moment at the pale face of the wounded man, then his bold eyes suffused with tears as he said:

"_Huzoor_! (The Presence!) I am sorry. Had I known that night it wasYour Honour I would not have lifted my rifle against you. The Sahib hasalways been good to me, to all of us. My enemy I slew, as we of the_Puktana_ must do to all who insult us. That deed I do not regret. "

Wargrave looked up sorrowfully at the splendidly-built youngfellow--barely twenty-one--who had only done as he had been taught to dofrom his cradle. Among Pathans blood only can wash away the stain of aninsult. The officer felt no anger against him for his own injuries andregretted that false notions of honour had led him to kill a comrade andwere now sending him to a shameful death. 

"I am sorry, Gul Mahommed, very sorry, " he said. "You were always a goodsoldier, and now you must die. "

The Pathan drew himself up with all the haughty pride of his race. 

"I do not fear death, Sahib. They will give me the noose. But my fathercan spare me. He has five other sons to fight for him. If only the Sahibwould forgive----. "

Wargrave, much moved, held out his hand to him. The prisoner touched itwith his manacled ones, then raised his fingers to his forehead. 

"For your kindness, Sahib, _salaam_!"

Then he turned and walked proudly out of the room and Wargrave heard thetramp of heavy feet on the rocky road outside as the prisoner wasmarched away on the long trail to the gallows. Two months later GulMahommed was hanged in the courtyard of Alipur jail in Calcutta beforedetachments of all the regiments garrisoning the city. 

The subaltern had long chafed at the restraint of an invalid beforeMacdonald took him off the sick-list and he was free to wander againwith Colonel Dermot in the forest and among the mountains. Before thehot weather ended Raymond came to spend three weeks with him and beinitiated into the delights of sport in the great jungle. 

When the long imprisonment of the rains came Wargrave began to suffer inhealth; for his wounds had sapped his strength more than he knew andMacdonald shook his head over him. Nor was he the only invalid; forlittle Brian grew pale and listless in the mists that enveloped theoutpost constantly now, until finally the doctor decreed that hismother, much as she hated parting from her husband and her home, musttake the children to Darjeeling. And he ordered the subaltern to go too. Frank did not repine, after Mrs. Dermot had casually intimated thatMuriel Benson was arranging to join her at the railway station andaccompany her on a long visit to Darjeeling. 

It was Wargrave's first introduction to a hill-station; and everythingwas a delightful novelty to him, from the quaint little train thatbrought them up the seven thousand feet to their destination in thepretty town of villas, clubs and hotels in the mountains, to theglorious panorama of the Eternal Snows and Kinchinjunga's lofty creststhat rise like fairyland into the sky at early dawn and under thebrilliant Indian moon. 

As Mrs. Dermot could not often leave her children it was Muriel, whoknew Darjeeling well, who became his guide. Together every day they setout from their hotel, together they scaled the heights of Jalapahar orrode down to watch the polo on the flat hill-top of Lebong, a thousandfeet below. Together they explored the fascinating bazaar and boughtghost-daggers and turquoises in the quaint little shops. Together theywent on picnics down into the deep valleys on the way to Sikkhim. Theyplayed tennis, rinked or danced together at the Amusement Club; and theladies at the tea-tables in the great lounge smiled significantly andwhispered to each other as the good-looking fair man and the pretty, dark-haired girl came in together when the light was fading on themountains. Frank forgot cares. He ceased to brood unhappily--for it hadcome to that--on Violet, who, as her rare letters told him, had spentthe Hot Weather in the Bombay hill-station of Mahableshwar and was nowenjoying life during the Rains in gay Poona. She seldom wrote, and thenbut scrappily; and it seemed to him certain that she was forgetting him. And he felt ashamed at the joy which filled him at the thought. Was healways destined to be only the friend of the girl he loved, the lover ofthe woman to whom he wished to be a friend?

CHAPTER XII

"ROOTED IN DISHONOUR"

Government House, Ganeshkind, outside Poona, the residence of theGovernor of Bombay during the Rains, was blazing with light and gay withthe sound of music; for His Excellency was giving a fancy dress ball. Motors and carriages were still rolling up in a long line to theentrance where the gorgeously-clad Indian Cavalry soldiers of theGovernor's Bodyguard--tall and stately back-bearded men in long scarlettunics, white breeches and high black boots, their heads swathed ingaudy _loongies_ (turbans) with tails streaming down their backs, holding steel-headed bamboo lances with red and white pennons in theirwhite-gauntleted right hands--lined the approach. Inside, the splendidballroom, ablaze with electric lights, was crowded with gaily-dressedfigures in costumes beautiful or bizarre. The good-looking, middle-agedbaron who was the King's representative in the Bombay Presidency wasstanding, dressed as Charles II. , beside his plain but pleasant-featuredwife in the garb of Amy Robsart, receiving the last of their guests, while already the dancing had begun. 

Later in the evening a group of officers in varied costumes stood nearone of the entrances criticising the dresses and the company. 

"By George, that's a magnificent kit, " said a Garrison Gunner justarrived on short leave from Bombay. "What's it supposed to be?"

"A Polish hussar, I think, " replied a subaltern in Wellesley's Rifles. 

"No, he's Murat, Napoleon's cavalry leader, " said an Indian Lancercaptain. 

The wearer of the costume alluded to was passing them in a waltz. He wasa young man in a splendid old-time hussar uniform, a scarlet dolmanthick-laced with gold, a fur-trimmed slung pelisse, tight scarletbreeches embroidered down the front of the thighs in gold, and long redRussian leather boots with gold tassels. He was good-looking, but not inan English way, and the swarthiness of his complexion and a slight kinkin his dark hair seemed to hint a trace of coloured blood. He wasplainly Israelite in appearance; and the large nose with theunmistakable racial curved nostril would become bulbous with years, thefirm cheeks flabby and the plump chin double. 

"That dress cost some money, I'll bet, " said the Gunner, cheaply attiredas a Pierrot. "Just look at the gold lace. I say, he's got glassbuttons. "

"Glass be hanged, Fergie, they're diamonds. Real diamonds, honourbright, Murat wore diamonds. He was buckin' about them in the Clubto-night, " said a captain in a British infantry regiment quartered inPoona. "That's Rosenthal of the 2nd Hussars from Bangalore. Son of oldRosenthal the South African multi-millionaire. A Sheeny, of course. "

"Who's the woman he's dancing with?" asked the Gunner. "Jollygood-looking she is. "

"That's Mrs. Norton, wife of a Political somewhere in the Presidency. Rosenthal's always in her pocket since he met her at Mahableshwar. "

As the dance ended the many couples streamed out of the ballroom andmade for the _kala juggas_--the "black places, " as the sitting-out spotsare appropriately termed in India from the carefully-arranged lack oflight in them. Mrs. Norton, looking very lovely as Mary, Queen of Scots, and her partner crossed the verandah and went out into the unlit gardenin search of seats. The first few they stumbled on were alreadyoccupied, a fact that the darkness prevented them from realising untilthey almost sat down on the occupants. At last in a retired corner ofthe garden Rosenthal found a bench in a recess in the wall. As theyseated themselves he blurted out roughly:

"I'm sick of all this, Vi. When do you mean to give me your answer? I'mdamned if I'm going to hang on waiting much longer. I'm fed up withIndia and the Army. I mean to cut it all. "

"Well, Harry, what do you want?" asked his companion, smiling in thedarkness at his vehemence. 

"Want? You. And you know it. I want to take you away from this rottencountry. What's all this----, " he waved his hand towards the lightedballroom, "compared to Paris, Monte Carlo, Cairo, Ostend when the racesare on? Let's go where life is worth living. This is stagnation. "

"Oh, I find it amusing. You forget, we women have a better time in Indiathan in Europe. There are too many of us there, so you don't value us. "

"Better time. Oh, Law! What rot!" He laughed rudely. "You've never livedyet, dear. Look here, Vi. My father's one of the three richest men inSouth Africa; and all he's got will come to me some day. As it is hegives me an allowance bigger than those of all the other men in theregiment put together. I hate the Service and its idiotic discipline. Iwant to be free--to go where money counts. Damn India!"

"Doesn't it count everywhere?" she asked, fanning herself lazily. Hisrough, almost boorish, manner amused her always. She felt as if she wereplaying with a caged tiger. "Doesn't it here?"

"No; in the Army they seem to think more of some damned pauper who comesof a 'county family, ' as they call it, than of a fellow like me whocould buy up a dozen of them. I hate them all. And I mean to chuck it. But I want you to come with me, Vi. And, what's more, I mean to haveyou. "

"But your father wishes you to stay in the Service. You told me soyourself. Will he like it if you leave--and will he continue yourallowance?"

"Oh, I'll get round him. He's only got me. He's no one else to leave hismoney to. It'd be all right, Vi. Answer me. I mean to get you. "

He grasped her wrist and tried to drag her towards him. She laughed andheld him off. 

"Take care, my dear boy. Darkness has ears. We're not alone in thegarden, please remember. If you can't behave prettily I'm going back tothe ballroom. Come, there's the music beginning again. "

He tried to seize her in his arms, but she eluded his grasp with adexterity that argued practice, and, rising, moved across the grass. Hefollowed sulkily, dominated by her cool and careless indifference. Whenthey reached the verandah one of the Government House aides-de-camprushed up to her. 

"Oh, Mrs. Norton, I've been hunting for you everywhere. I've a messagefrom His Excellency. He wants you to come to his table at supper andsave him from the Members of Council's awful wives. "

"Oh, thanks, Captain Gardner, I'll come with pleasure, " she answered, smiling prettily on him. An A. D. C. Is always worth cultivating. 

"I say, is it hopeless asking you for a dance now?" he said. "We poordevils of the Staff don't get a chance at the beginning of the evening, as we're so busy introducing people to Their Excellencies. "

She looked at her programme. 

"You can have this, if you like. It's only with some Indian Civilian inspectacles; and I hate the Heaven Born. They're such bores. " She smiledand sailed off on the A. D. C. 's arm to the disgust of Rosenthal, calmlyabandoned. But he could not help being amused when a round-faced youngman dressed as an ancient Greek with gig-lamp spectacles rushed up toovertake Mrs. Norton before she entered the ballroom, and stopped indismay to gaze after her open-mouthed and peer at his programme. 

But the Hussar drove her back from Government House to Poona in hisparticularly luxurious Rolls-Royce with an English chauffeur and wouldhardly let her go when the car drew up before the door of the MunsterHotel where she was staying. Laughing, crushed and dishevelled, shebroke from him and jumped out of the automobile, ran up the verandahsteps and turned to wave to him as the chauffeur started off to take himto his quarters in the Club of Western India. 

Still smiling Violet stumbled up the unlighted stairs and reached hersitting-room. When she turned up the lamp a letter lying on the tablecaught her eyes. She picked it up indifferently; but when she saw thatit bore the handwriting of one of her Calcutta cousins and theDarjeeling postmark she tore it open eagerly and ran her eye rapidlydown the pages. She came to the lines:

 "I have seen the man you asked me about. He is always with a girl called Benson, rather a pretty little thing. She is popular with all the men; but Mr. Wargrave seems to be the favourite. They are staying at the same hotel; and everyone says they are engaged. "

Then the writer went on to talk of family matters. But Violet read nomore. Her eyes flamed with anger as she crumpled the paper up, flung iton the floor and stamped it under foot. She paced the room angrily, tearing the lace handkerchief she held in her hands to shreds. This, then, was Frank's loyalty to her, this was how he consoled himself forher absence. With this chit of a girl, with whom he probably laughed ather, Violet's readiness to give up reputation, good fame, home, for him. She almost sobbed with jealous rage at the idea. She forgot her owninfidelities and want of remembrance and felt herself to be a deceivedand much-abused woman. But she would not bear such treatment meekly. Frank was hers; no other woman had a right to him, should ever have him. She was resolved on that. She stopped and, picking up the letter, smoothed it out and re-read it. Then, frowning, she passed into herbedroom and tore off her costume. Not for an instant did she sleepduring the remainder of the night, but tossed on her bed, revolvingplans of vengeance. 

Next day she was seated in the train on her way to Darjeeling, ajourney that would take days. She had telegraphed fruitlessly for a roomat the Oriental Hotel at which she knew from his letters that Frank wasstaying; but she had secured one at the larger Eastern Palace where herCalcutta relatives were residing. Only on the second day of her journeydid she wire to Wargrave, bidding him meet her on her arrival. 

As the train carried her across India her heart was still filled withanger, jealousy and almost hate of the man whom she had favoured aboveall others and who spurned her, dared to be faithless to her, it seemed. She did not know how much love she had left for him; for his image hadgrown dim in the flight of time and among the distractions of gayerstations than Rohar. Certainly she had flirted herself, flirtedrecklessly; but that was a different matter to his faithlessness. Shemight do it; but he must not. Did she want him? She hardly knew. But shewas not going to be put aside for this tiger-killing young person, thisjungle girl, who must be taught not to trespass on Violet's property. 

Then her mind went back to Rosenthal; and in the solitude of the ladies'compartment she laughed aloud at the thought of the shock that hisself-sufficiency must have received when he learned of her sudden andmysterious disappearance from Poona. For she had left him no word. Itwould do him good; he needed a lesson, for he was too sure of her. Shehad never troubled to analyse her feelings for him and did not knowwhether she liked or hated him most. She saw his faults clearly, hisblatant conceit, his irritating belief in the supremacy of money, hisarrogance, his bad manners. She knew that men deemed him a bounder. Buthis very boorishness, his savage outbreaks against conventionality, attracted her. Under the thin veneer of civilisation, he was simply ananimal; she knew it and it appealed to her baser nature, the sensualstrain in her. That he was beast, and wild beast at that, did notaffright her; she felt that she could always dominate him when shewould. Once or twice the beast had come out into the open; but she haddriven it back with a whip--and she believed that she could always doit. The wealth, the life of luxury that he offered, appealed to herstrongly; but she kept her head and remembered that he was dependent onhis father's bounty, and she had no intention of compromising herselfirretrievably under such circumstances. If he had the disposal of theold man's immense riches then the temptation might be over-powering; butuntil he had she would wait. And ever the memory of Wargrave obtrudeditself, rather to her annoyance; but angry as she was with him she couldnot pretend to herself that she was indifferent to him. 

Up in Darjeeling on the very day that she left Poona Frank sat withMiss Benson under a massive, orchid-clad tree in the lovely BotanicalGardens, gazing moodily down into the depths of the valley far belowthem. Turning suddenly he found his companion looking at him. Somethingin her eyes moved him strongly and he forgot his caution. 

"Muriel, you know how it is with, me, " he said impetuously. "I oughtn'tto say anything; but--well, all the men here run after you, and I can'tbear it. I'm a fool, I know, but I can't help being jealous. I'm alwaysafraid that some one of them will take you from me. The other womanseems to be forgetting me completely. She hasn't written to me forweeks, months. Surely she's tiring of me. I don't suppose she everreally cared for me--just was bored in that dull station. If--if shesets me free would you--could you ever like me well enough to marry me?"

The girl looked away over the valley and a little smile crept into hereyes. Then she turned to him and laid her hand on his. 

"Dear boy, if you were free I would, " she answered. 

They were all alone, no one to see them; and his arms went out to her. But she drew back. 

"Not yet, dear. You're another woman's property still, " she said. 

He bit his lip. 

"Yes, you're right, sweetheart. But--well, even if I weren't, I haven'tmuch to offer you. I'm still in debt; and I'd be only condemning you topass all your existence in the jungle. "

"There'd be no hardship in that, dear. I love the forest better thananywhere else in the world. Life in it is happiness to me. "

"But would you be content to live as Mrs. Dermot does?"

"Content? I'd love it better than anything else, if I were with you. "

Then he forgot her reproof and she her high-minded resolves as his armswent round her and he drew her to him until their lips met in a long, passionate kiss. Afterwards they sat hand in hand and talked of what thefuture would hold for them if only Fate were kind. And Mrs. Norton, speeding across India to shatter their dream-world, smiled a littlegrimly as she pictured to herself her meeting with Frank. 

Next day the blow fell. Wargrave was sitting at lunch with Mrs. Dermotand Muriel in the hotel dining-room when Violet's telegram was handed tohim. His companions could see that he had received bad news; but hepulled himself together and said nothing about it until he was alonewith Mrs. Dermot in her private sitting-room after _tiffin_. Then heexclaimed suddenly, handing her the telegram:

"She's on her way here. "

Noreen understood even before she looked at the paper. When she readthe message she asked:

"What's she coming here for?"

"I don't know. I haven't had a letter from her for a long time, " hereplied wearily. 

"What are you going to do about her?"

"What can I?" he said with a gesture of despair. "It's for her todecide. If she wishes it I must keep my word. "

"But Muriel? What of her? You know she cares for you. Has she no rightto be considered?" demanded her friend impatiently. "Are you going toruin her life as well as yours? This woman will only drag you down. Shecan't really be fond of you or she wouldn't forget you as she's beendoing. You don't love her. Don't you see what it will all mean toyou?--to be pilloried in the Divorce Court, made to pay enormous costs, perhaps heavy damages as well. And even now you say you're in debt. Andthen to be chained for life to a woman you don't care about while you'rein love with another. Oh, Mr. Wargrave, do be sensible. Tell her thetruth. Tell her you can't go on with it. "

"I've given her my word, " he said simply. 

She pleaded with him passionately, but to no avail. At last, as Murielentered the room, she rose, saying:

"Tell her. I'll not mention the subject again. "

And she walked indignantly into her bedroom and shut the door almostwith a bang; for the little woman was furious with him for what shedeemed his crass stupidity. 

"What's the matter with Noreen?" asked the girl in surprise. 

Without a word he gave her the telegram. 

"Oh Frank!" she gasped, and sank overwhelmed into a chair, letting thefatal paper flutter to the floor. 

He did not go to her but stood by the window, the image of despair, gazing out with unseeing eyes. 

"What am I to do?" he asked miserably. 

"You must keep your word if she wishes it, " answered the girl bravely. 

But the next moment she broke down and, burying her face in her hands, wept bitterly. He made no move to her; and she rose and went quietlyback to her own room. 

In the interval that elapsed before Violet's arrival Mrs. Dermot did notabandon hope, and in spite of her words she attacked Wargravepersistently, trying to shake his resolution. But to her despair Murielsided with him and declared that he was right. So finally Noreen gave itup and vowed that she would wash her hands of the whole affair. 

When Violet reached Darjeeling Wargrave met her at the railway station. Face to face with him her anger died and something of the attraction hehad had for her revived. So she greeted him effusively and all butembraced him on the platform. Other men seeing the meeting wondered whyhe looked so miserable when such a lovely woman evinced her delight atseeing him so plainly. She passed her arm through his with an air ofpossession and chatted volubly while he watched his servant help hers tocollect her luggage. When she took her seat in the _dandy_, or chaircarried on the shoulders of coolies, and was being conveyed towards herhotel she behaved as though they had not been parted a week, rattled ongaily about her doings in Poona and Mahableshwar and, with all theglories of the Himalayas about her, declared that the Bombayhill-station was far lovelier than Darjeeling. Wargrave was relievedthat she showed no desire to be sentimental and gladly responded to hermood, detailing the forthcoming gaieties and promising to take her tothem all. 

When they reached the Eastern Palace Hotel and were shown up into herprivate sitting-room she put her hands on his shoulders as soon as theywere alone and said:

"Let me look at you, Frank. You have improved. You've grown handsomer, Ithink. Aren't you going to kiss me?"

He did it with so little fervour that she made a grimace and thought"It's quite time that I came to bring him to heel. Not much lovingardour about that. I wonder if he kisses the jungle girl as coldly. "Aloud she said:

"Now let's go down to _tiffin_. I'm starving. Will you please secure atable and I'll follow you in a few minutes?"

During the meal she chattered gaily, criticised the dresses andappearance of the other women in the dining-room and, chaffing himmerrily on his want of appetite, ate a substantial meal herself. Mrs. Dermot, anxious to befriend him, had thought that she could help him byinviting him to bring Mrs. Norton to tea with her that afternoon. Whenduring _tiffin_ he hesitatingly conveyed the invitation Violet said:

"Oh, I don't want to be bothered with women, my dear boy. Take me outand show me the place and the shops and the _Gymkhana_--what do you callit here? Oh, the Amusement Club. No, stop a minute. Mrs. Dermot is yourdear friend from Ranga Duar, isn't she? So she's here. And the other, the jungle girl, where is she?"

Frank flushed as he replied:

"I suppose you mean Miss Benson? She's with Mrs. Dermot. "

"So you're all staying at the same hotel. How very nice for you! But, mydear Frank, doesn't it strike you that it'll be rather dull for mestaying by myself here? You'll have to change to this hotel. "

"I asked about rooms here; but they told me they're full up now. "

"I'll see if I can't get round the manager and make him find a cornerfor you. Well, now for this tea-party. Yes; on second thoughts I'll go. I'd like to see the ladies who've been consoling you for my absence. "

"Oh, nonsense, Violet. They haven't. They're just friends, that's all, "he said irritably. 

"Of course, dear; I know. Well, tell me what these 'just friends' arelike. "

She certainly derived little idea of them from Wargrave's lame attemptat description. And when later she and he were shown into Mrs. Dermot'ssitting-room at tea-time Noreen and Muriel found his picture of her as ameek, long-suffering, neglected wife very unlike the radiant, condescending lady who patronised them from the start. She showed atendency to address most of her conversation to the girl, despite thelatter's evident disinclination to talk, or perhaps because of it; forthe older woman seemed to take an impish delight in teasing her abouther friendship with Wargrave and their relations as nurse and patient, although it was apparent that her malicious humour made the othersuncomfortable. She paraded her authority over Frank and treated him likea hen-pecked husband. When finally she bore him away to escort her to theAmusement Club she left the two girls speechless behind her. But notfor the same reason. Noreen was furious. 

"What a hateful woman!" she exclaimed as soon as her visitor departed. "And I pitied her as a poor neglected wife! What do you think of her?"

Muriel only shook her head, as she sat looking despondent and thoroughlymiserable. Mrs. Norton's malice affected her little, but her undoubtedloveliness had made her despair. How could an insignificant littleperson like herself, she thought, hope to win affection from any manwhom this radiant beauty deigned to favour? Frank could not help adoringso attractive a woman. He must have loved her in Rohar, although he saidthat he had not. Muriel felt that she could have resigned herself moreeasily to his keeping his word to Violet, if the latter had been lessgood-looking. 

Mrs. Dermot broke in on her miserable thoughts. 

"Come, dear, we'll take the children for their walk and then go on laterto the Amusement Club. "

"I couldn't go to the Club this evening, Noreen. I really couldn't. We'donly see that woman again--with Frank. "

"Well, what of it? We're not going to let her think we're afraid to faceher. I've no patience with Mr. Wargrave. Whatever he can see in her Ican't think. You're worth twenty of her, darling. Shallow, conceited. She neglected? She badly treated? My sympathy is with her husband now. What fools men are!" And Noreen swept indignantly from the room. 

Every moment of the hour that they spent in the Club that evening was alifetime of torture to Muriel. She had faced a charging tiger with lessdread than she did the crowd at the tea-tables in the rink. She fanciedthat every woman who looked at her was laughing in her sleeve at her, that every man who bowed or spoke to her was pitying her. Suddenly herheart seemed to stop beating, for she saw Frank sitting with Mrs. Nortonand two other ladies, her Calcutta cousins, as well as a couple of menin the British Infantry regiment at Lebong. They were looking at her;and she felt that Violet was pointing her out as the deserted maiden. She tried to smile bravely when her rival waved her hand and called outa cheery "good evening" to her and Noreen, who answered the greetingwith an almost defiant air of unconcern. 

For days afterwards she saw practically nothing of Wargrave, who wasobliged to be in constant attendance on Mrs. Norton. Violet had inducedthe manager of her hotel to find a room for him; and he was forced totransfer himself and his belongings to the Eastern Palace. Shemonopolised him, insisted on his taking her shopping in the mornings, calling in the afternoons or to Lebong to watch the polo, or elseplaying tennis with her at the Amusement Club. He dined with her everyevening and escorted her to the dances, concerts or theatricals thatfilled the nights during the Season. He hardly recognised her in the gaysocial butterfly with seemingly never a care in the world; and she madehim wonder every day if she had any love left for him or wanted him tohave any for her. For she showed no desire to be sentimental and treatedhim very much as she had in the early days of their acquaintance. Shenever discussed their future. He had not the moral courage to ask heroutright if she still wanted to come to him. She gave no indication ofbeing happy only in his company; for she soon began to release him fromattendance on her on occasions in favour of some one or other of the newmen friends that she rapidly made. He took advantage of this to seesomething of Muriel again. 

But this did not suit Mrs. Norton. Even if she did not want Frankherself that was no reason why the girl should have him. She tried beingjealous and insisted on his breaking off the friendship; but, althoughhe hated the scenes that ensued, he resolutely refused to do so. ThenViolet adopted another plan. She pretended to be convinced by hisassurances that it meant nothing and declared that she wished to befriends with Muriel. She went out of her way to be nice to the girl whenthey met in public and at last invited her to tea at the Eastern PalaceHotel on an afternoon on which she knew Mrs. Dermot to be engaged. Muriel accepted because she did not know very well how to refuse. 

When she was shown into Mrs. Norton's private sitting-room she foundWargrave already there with her hostess, who received her very amiably. During tea the conversation flowed in safe channels at first. Butsuddenly Violet startled her guests by saying:

"Now, Miss Benson, that we three are alone I think it a good opportunityto speak very plainly about Frank's relations with you. I've just beengiving him a serious talking to about the way he has behaved to you. "

The girl drew herself up haughtily. 

"What do you mean, Mrs. Norton, " she said. "The way Mr. Wargrave hasbehaved----? I don't understand you. "

"Oh yes, you do. It's best to speak plainly. I'm afraid Frank has beenleading you to believe that he's in love with you----. "

"Violet!" broke in Wargrave angrily. "Please don't go on. You've noright to say such things. "

She smiled sweetly on him. 

"Yes, I have, Frank. You know, my dear boy, that you've got pretty wayswith women--I fear he's rather a flirt, Miss Benson--that you are apt tomake some of them think you mean more than you do. "

"What absurd nonsense!" he cried, more angrily still. "Please stop, Ibeg of you. "

"No, Frank, it is only right that I should warn Miss Benson. " Sheturned to the girl. "He hasn't told you, I'm sure, that he's not free tomarry you or any other girl. "

Wargrave sprang up. 

"I've told her everything about us, Violet, " he protested. "I ask you asa favour to drop the subject. "

The girl sat as if turned to stone while Mrs. Norton went on:

"You are young, my dear, and can't know much about men. I suppose you'velived in the jungle all your life. Now, a little bird has told me you'velet yourself get too fond of Frank--oh, he's very charming, I know, andthis playing at nursing a poor wounded hero is a dangerous game. But I'mgoing to tell you plainly that Frank is pledged to me. He has asked meto leave my husband for him, and I've consented; so there's no use yourtrying to catch him, my dear. You're too late. "

The girl sprang indignantly to her feet. 

"I've done nothing of the sort, Mrs. Norton. How dare you say so? You'veno right to speak to me as you're doing. "

The older woman sat back coolly in her chair and laughed; but her eyesgrew hard. 

"Oh yes, I have, my dear girl. You two were the talk of Darjeelingbefore I came. Of course you're angry, naturally, at failing to catchhim, but I'm going to put a stop to your trying, here and now. He hasgot to break with you. "

"You are a wicked woman, " began the girl; and then indignation chokedher. 

Mrs. Norton leant forward in her chair. 

"Can you deny that you're in love with him?" she asked. 

Wargrave tried to interpose; but the girl waved him aside and faced herrival. 

"I'll answer you. I am. I love him as you could never do. I was willingto give him up to you--for he loves me, not you--so that he should notbe false to his word. I didn't know what you were like, then. But now Idon't believe you'd ever make him happy. You don't love him--you haven'tgot it in you. You wouldn't be content with any one man. I've watchedyou. You're absolutely heartless; and you'd only make Frank miserable. You're willing to disgrace him as well as yourself. You don't mind ifyou ruin him. Frank----"

She turned towards Wargrave. 

"You said you loved me. Is it true?"

He answered firmly:

"Yes, I do. "

"Then will you marry me? This woman will only wreck your life. Choosebetween us. "

He turned in desperation to Mrs. Norton. 

"Violet, you don't really want me, do you? You don't love me. I've feltfor a long time that you're forgetting me. I love Muriel and she lovesme. If you ever cared for me release me from my promise. "

Mrs. Norton lay back calmly in her chair and looked with a smile fromone to the other. Then she said deliberately:

"This morning I wrote to my husband and told him that I was neverreturning to him, that I was going to you, Frank. That is why I askedthis girl here to-day to tell you before her that now I'm going to askyou to keep your promise. Will you?"

The girl looked at him appealingly and stretched out her hands to him. 

"Frank, for your own sake, if not for mine, don't listen to her. "

He stood irresolute, torn by conflicting emotions. Then with an efforthe replied:

"Muriel, I must. I can't break my word. "

Mrs. Norton gave a mocking laugh. The girl shrank from him and hid herface in her hands for a moment. Then she looked up and said, desperatelycalm:

"Very well, be it so. You've decided and there's nothing more to besaid. You've shamed me before this woman; and I never want to see youagain. "

She turned and walked out of the room. 

CHAPTER XIII

THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE

As Muriel passed through the door Wargrave started to follow her; butViolet cried peremptorily:

"Frank, stay here. Please realise that I come first now. Sit down. "

He obeyed mechanically. She went on petulantly:

"These emotional scenes are rather exhausting. Do you mind calling thehotel 'boy' and ordering a cocktail for me? You ought to have oneyourself. I suppose, like all men, you hate scenes. Then you should begrateful to me for saving you from that spiteful little jungle cat. "

Going to the verandah outside the room he called a hotel servant andgave him the order, then returned to his chair and sat down wearily. Hestared at the floor in silence. He had sent the girl that he loved awayutterly humiliated; and he knew that, with her proud spirit, the shameof his rejection of her would cut her to the heart. He cursed himselffor bringing this pain to her. It was all his fault. Not only had he hadno right to speak of love to her while he was bound to another woman, but he ought never to have sought her society as he had done, neverstriven to gain her friendship, for by doing so he had unconsciously wonher love. The harm was done long before he spoke to her of his feelings. What a selfish brute he was to thus cause two women to suffer!

Presently he remembered that his moodiness, his silence, wereuncomplimentary, cruel, to Violet. She was right in saying that she camefirst. Indeed she was the only one to be considered now. The other hadpassed out of his life. It might be that they should meet again some dayin their restricted world, but while he could he must try to avoid her. There was only Violet left. 

He looked up to find his companion's eyes fixed on him with anundefinable expression. He roused himself with an effort that was notlost on the woman watching him. 

"So you have told your husband, " he said. "Well, now we must arrangewhat we are going to do. "

"We won't discuss our plans at this moment, " replied Violet. "I'm not inthe mood for it. " Then after a pause she added bitterly, "I must giveyou time to recover from the shock of the abrupt ending to your littlejungle romance. "

Before he could reply the servant appeared with a tray. 

"Ah, thank goodness, here are the cocktails. There's only one. Aren'tyou having one, too? It will do you good. No?"

She sipped her cocktail slowly. When she had finished it she got upfrom her chair, saying:

"I'll get ready to go to the Amusement Club. Will you wait for me here?You needn't change--we won't play tennis to-day; for we've got thisdinner and dance on to-night and I don't want to tire myself. I shan'tbe long. "

As she passed his chair she tapped his cheek and said:

"Don't look so miserable, my dear boy. You'll soon get over the loss ofyour jungle girl. There, you may kiss my hand as a sign of your returnto your allegiance. "

But when she entered her bedroom she did not at once proceed to getready to go out, but unlocked her dressing-case and, taking out of it aletter, sat down to read it for the tenth time since she had received itthat morning. Yet it was short and concise. It was from Rosenthal andaddressed from the Mess of the 2nd (Duke's Own) Hussars in Bangalore;for, as it told her, he had returned to his regiment as his leave hadexpired. It was the first that had come from him since she had leftPoona, although, as he said in it, he had obtained her new address fromthe Goanese clerk in the Munster Hotel office on the day of her flight, thanks to the persuasive powers of a fifty-rupee note. 

He told her that although her abrupt departure had puzzled him and hecould not understand why she had tried to conceal her whereabouts fromhim, he wished her to realise that if it were an attempt to escape fromhim it was useless. He could bide his time, for sooner or later he wouldget her. 

Violet smiled as she read his confident words, although they caused alittle shiver of fear to run through her. Then she rose, locked theletter away and put on her hat. 

Not until after lunch next day was Wargrave able to find time to go tothe Oriental Hotel, not to see Muriel, he sternly told himself, but topay a visit to Mrs. Dermot. When he was shown up to her sitting-room hehad to wait for some time before Noreen entered; and he was struck atonce by the coldness of her greeting. It was evident that she was verydispleased with him. She said no word about Muriel; and Wargrave feltcuriously averse to mentioning her name. 

At last he summed up courage to ask her. With as near an approach tofrigidity of manner as she could show to a man to whom she was soindebted Noreen replied:

"Muriel has left Darjeeling. "

"Left Darjeeling? Where for? Where has she gone?" he exclaimed insurprise. 

"To her father. "

"But why? She wasn't to have left for weeks yet, " said Wargrave. 

Mrs. Dermot looked at him angrily. 

"Why? Need you ask? I should have thought commonsense would have toldyou. I don't think we'll talk about it, please. As I said before, I'vewashed my hands of the whole affair. "

Further conversation on the subject was rendered impossible by theirruption of her children, who rushed at Wargrave and reproached him fornot being to see them lately. 

During the next few days Violet baffled every attempt that Frank made todiscuss their future course of action. The constant succession ofgaieties, the balls, theatricals, concerts, races, _gymkhanas_, thatfilled every afternoon and evening of the Darjeeling Season, took up allher time. Whenever he tried to talk matters over with her she invariablyreplied that there was no hurry, even when he pointed out that MajorNorton might arrive any day in consequence of her letter. That he hadnot already done so was inexplicable to Wargrave; and the subalterncould only believe her assurance that her husband accepted her loss withequanimity. It never occurred to Frank to doubt that she had written theletter. 

But one morning matters came to a crisis. When Violet and Wargravereturned to the hotel from their ride before breakfast a telegram washanded to the latter. He found it to be an official message from ColonelDermot, which ran:

 "Please return forthwith to Ranga Duar. I start for Europe on sick leave to-day. "

Frank stared at it in surprise. He had heard nothing of his superiorofficer being ill. It must be something very serious to necessitate hisbeing sent to Europe. The news was an unpleasant shock to him; for hegenuinely liked and respected the Political Officer. 

Then it occurred to him that this order to return brought everything toa head. Violet saw that he was perturbed. 

"What is it, Frank?" she asked. 

"I'll tell you upstairs, dear, " he said. 

In her sitting-room he handed her the telegram. 

"I must leave to-day. Will you be ready to come with me?" he asked. 

"What? To-day? My dear boy, it's impossible, " she replied. 

"But I must go. You see, it's imperative. The Colonel's already gone. "

"Yes, I see you must. But--well, I simply couldn't be ready, " saidViolet calmly. "Besides, I'm singing at the concert to-morrow night; andthere's the dance at Government House the night after. I must follow youlater. "

"But that means your travelling alone, " he argued. "Wouldn't it be muchpleasanter for you to come with me?"

"Don't worry about me for goodness' sake, Frank. I'm not a helplessperson. I came across India by myself to get here; and surely I'll beable to manage to do a twenty-four hours' journey alone. "

"Very well, dear, " he replied with an inward, unacknowledged feeling ofrelief that the decisive step had not to be taken yet. "I'll come downfrom Ranga Duar with an elephant to meet you at the railway station whenyou arrive. Now, while you're changing for breakfast, I'll rush round tothe Oriental and see if Mrs. Dermot has more news. "

When he reached the hotel he found Noreen busily packing. She was paleand evidently deeply distressed, although outwardly calm and collected. 

"You have heard?" she asked, as he entered her sitting-room. 

"Only that your husband is starting for England on sick leave and thatI'm to return at once. What's the matter? I hope it's not serious. "

"Mr. Macdonald wires that Kevin must go at once to England for anoperation. He says I'm not to worry, as there is no immediate danger. But of course I can't help being alarmed. It's all so sudden. I didn'tknow that Kevin was ill. Mr. Macdonald is travelling with him to thejunction on the main line where the children and I are to meet them. Isn't it kind of him? I'm so glad to know my husband will have someonewith him until I come. "

"We'll meet at the railway station after lunch, then, " said Wargrave. "We'll be together as far as the junction. "

Mrs. Dermot hesitated. 

"Are you travelling alone?" she asked. 

Frank flushed as he replied:

"Yes. She--Violet is to follow later. "

Noreen made no comment; and having learned all that he could he returnedto his hotel. 

He dreaded the ordeal of the parting with Mrs. Norton, but when the timecame for it he found his fear of a distressing scene quite uncalled for. She said goodbye to him in a pleasantly friendly, though somewhatcasual, manner, and did not offer to accompany him to the station as shehad a previous engagement. And long before the little train hadzig-zagged down the seven thousand feet to the foot of the Himalayas shehad dismissed him from her mind. 

The truth was that the gay and admired Mrs. Norton, caught up in thewhirlwind of social amusement in a lively hill-station, was not thewoman who passed weary days of _ennui_ in the company of a dull andunattractive husband in a small, dead-and-alive station. Nor was thedejected man who so plainly showed that he was pining for someone elsethe good-looking, heart-whole subaltern who had fascinated her in theboredom of existence in Rohar. Was he worth incurring social damnationfor? Would his companionship--for she knew that she had not hislove--make up for a life of loneliness, debt and poverty in a frontieroutpost? If she were resolved on giving up her present assuredposition--and Violet felt that existence with Norton would be more thanever unendurable after the exciting pleasures of Poona andDarjeeling--would it not be wiser to do so for someone who could amplycompensate her for the sacrifice? Love in a cottage--or its Indianequivalent, a subaltern's comfortless bungalow--did not appeal to her. Her statement that she had written to tell her husband that she wasleaving for Wargrave was false. It had served the purpose for which itwas made, and that was the defeat of her rival. So now, content with hervictory, she put all burdensome thought from her and dined, danced andflirted to her heart's content in the gaieties of the Darjeeling Season. 

When Wargrave reached Ranga Duar the little outpost seemed strangelyforlorn without the Dermots and their children. Major Hunt and Macdonaldwelcomed him warmly. The latter informed him that he had insisted on theColonel going to England for his operation because the Political Officerhad not been out of India for seven years and needed the change, andbesides he would receive more care and attention in a Londonnursing-home than in an Indian hospital. The trouble was intestinal butthere was no immediate danger to his life. 

Another familiar figure was missing. Before departing Dermot hadreleased Badshah and left him to wander in freedom in the jungle, unwilling that his faithful companion of years should be servant toanyone else and confident that the elephant would come back to him whenhe returned to the Terai. Major Hunt placed one of the detachmentelephants at Wargrave's disposal whenever he required it to take him onhis tours along the frontier. And Frank needed it constantly. For, assoon as the news of Colonel Dermot's departure spread, the lawlessspirits that for fear of him had not ventured for five years to disturbthe peace of the Border, began to show signs of restlessness. ThePolitical Officer's strong personality and the reputation of divinitythat he enjoyed had kept them in check. But now that he was gone theythought that they could defy with impunity the young sahib who replacedhim. 

So the Assistant had not long to wait for an opportunity to show hismettle. Dermot had not been gone a fortnight before one or two raidswere attempted on British villages by lawless mountaineers from acrossthe Bhutan frontier. Wargrave soon proved that the mantle of ColonelDermot had not fallen on unworthy shoulders. Single-handed heintercepted and faced a party of Bhutanese swordsmen swooping down fromthe hills on a tea-garden in search of loot, shot the leader and two ofhis followers and put the rest to flight. With a handful of sepoys ofthe Military Police he surprised a Bhuttia village in the No Man's Landalong the border-line and captured a notorious outlaw who had plunderedin Indian territory and had sent him a defiant challenge. 

Wargrave was glad of the excitement and the occupation, for they kepthim from brooding over his troubles and worrying about the future. Hehad not time to puzzle over Violet's silence. She had not written to himsince their parting. As a matter of fact she seldom thought of him, soengrossed was she in the pursuit of pleasure. Admittedly the prettiestwoman in Darjeeling that season she received enough attention andadmiration to turn any woman's head; and she enjoyed it all to the full. Although she had answered Rosenthal's letter from Bangalore he had notwritten again; but she felt that he was not forgetting her. She thoughtoftener of him than of Wargrave; for the vision of the great riches thatshe might one day share with him fascinated her. It haunted her dreamssleeping and waking. Often she let her fancy stray to the existence thathe had promised would be hers when he was the possessor of his father'sfortune, a life of luxury in the gayest cities of the world with allthat immense wealth could bestow, a life infinitely better worth livingthan her present one. Would she ever be given the chance of it?

The question was speedily and unexpectedly answered. One morning afterbreakfast she received a telegram from Rosenthal. It said:

 "My father is dead. I sail from Bombay for South Africa on Friday to settle up his affairs. Will you come?"

She stared at the paper almost uncomprehendingly for a few moments. Thenthe meaning of the message dawned on her. She sat down at herwriting-table and thought hard. She had little time in which to make upher mind; for if she wished to reach Bombay before Rosenthal sailed shewould have to leave Darjeeling that afternoon. What should she do?Should she go? She found a pencil and a telegraph form and addressed thelatter to the Hussar. Then she hesitated. But she was not long in comingto a decision. With a firm hand she wrote the one word "Yes" and signedher name. Then she rose from the table, called a hotel servant, despatched the telegram and went to her bedroom to pack. And the sametrain that took her away from Darjeeling carried a letter from her toWargrave. 

But the subaltern did not receive it until more than a week afterwards, when he returned to Ranga Duar with Tashi after chasing back across theBorder a mongrel pack of _dácoits_--brigands--who had been harryingBhuttia villages in British territory. The letter lay on the table inthe room which he still occupied in the Mess, although he was no longeran officer of the detachment, together with a pile of correspondencethat had accumulated during his absence. Recognising Violet's writing onthe envelope he tore it open anxiously. He rapidly scanned the firstpage, stared at it incredulously, read it again carefully and thenfinished the letter. It ran:

 "My dear Frank, "I am going to relieve your mind of a great weight and send you into the seventh heaven of delight by giving you the glad news that you are never likely to see me again. Before the week is ended I shall have left India for ever with someone who can give me all I want and not condemn me to a poverty-stricken existence in a wretched little jungle station, which is all that you had to offer me. I know it was not your fault and you are really a dear boy. I was very fond of you; but you did not love me and we would have been very miserable together. For you would be always pining for your jungle girl and I would have hated you for it. Now we part good friends and she is welcome to you. I ought to tell you that I did not really write to my husband as I said I did. 

 "I wish you luck--won't you wish me the same?

 "Yours affectionately, "VIOLET. "

When he had thoroughly grasped the meaning of this extraordinary letterhe forgave her everything in the joy of knowing that she had set himfree. He did not speculate as to the man with whom she was going; histhoughts flew at once to Muriel. But his delight was tempered by thefear that his liberty had come too late to be of service to him withher. Would she ever forgive him? His heart sank when he remembered herindignation, her bitter words when they parted. Surely no woman who hadbeen so humiliated could pardon the man who had brought such shame uponher. Yet how could he have acted otherwise? It was natural that the girlshould blame him; but how could he have been false to his plighted wordand desert the one who held his promise? If only he could see Muriel andplead with her. Perhaps in time she might bring herself to forgive him. But how was he to meet her? Now that Mrs. Dermot had gone to England, the girl would not come again to Ranga Duar. She was, he knew, accompanying her father in his tour of the forests of the districts inhis charge. How could he go to their camp or lonely bungalow in thejungle and force his presence on her? What was he to do?

Longing for someone to confide in, someone to advise him, he went toMajor Hunt and told him the whole story. The older man rejoiced inlearning of the subaltern's release from his entanglement, but, knowingMiss Benson well, shook his head doubtfully over the chances of herforgiving Wargrave. Nevertheless, unwilling to kill the young man'shope, he affected a confidence that he was far from feeling and bade himtake courage. He advised him to arrange a few days' shooting in theneighbourhood of the Bensons when he could spare the time from hisduties. The father would be sure to offer him hospitality and thedaughter could not well avoid him. In the meantime he might write andplead his cause on paper. 

Wargrave sat up half the night composing a letter to Muriel. Sheet aftersheet was torn up in disgust before he was even tolerably satisfied. Butthe laboured result was never sent. Next morning after breakfast as hesat smoking in the Mess with Major Hunt and the doctor his servantentered to tell him that a forest guard wanted to see him. A wild hopeflashed through his mind that perhaps Muriel had sent him a message. Buton going out to the back verandah where the man awaited him he washanded an envelope "On His Majesty's Service, " addressed in a strangehandwriting. He opened it and glanced carelessly at the letter, but thefirst lines riveted his attention. 

 "Forest Officer's Bungalow, Barwana Section. 

 "From the District Superintendent of Police, Bengal Civil Police. 

 "To the Assistant Political Officer, Ranga Duar. 

 "Sir, "Three days ago a party of Chinamen attacked and severely injured the Deputy Conservator of Forests, Mr. Benson, in this bungalow, and abducted his daughter. They were ten or twelve in number and well armed, and over-awed the servants and forest employees. They have been tracked towards the Bhutan Frontier and, I fear, have crossed it by this. There was, unfortunately, much delay in the information reaching me while I was touring the district south of the forest; and I have only just arrived here. I hasten to acquaint you with the occurrence as I am powerless if the ruffians have crossed into Bhutan. Please request the Officer Commanding Military Police Detachment to send out parties to try to cut off the raiders from the passes through the mountains, although I fear it is too late. Can you meet me here and confer with me? Please bring the Medical Officer of the detachment with you, as Mr. Benson is in a bad state and no civil surgeon is available for a great distance from here. 

 "Your obedient servant, Edward Lawrence. D. S. P. "

Horror-stricken, Wargrave questioned the forest guard. The man had notbeen at the bungalow at the time of the outrage and could not greatlysupplement the information contained in the letter. The story that hehad learned from the servants was to the effect that a party of Chinamenhad arrived at Mr. Benson's bungalow and asked for employment ascarpenters. There was nothing unusual in this, as Chinese from theSouthern Provinces frequently make their way on foot through Tibet andBhutan over the mountains in search of work on the tea-gardens or inCalcutta. Apparently they had suddenly struck the old man down andsurprised Miss Benson before she could offer any resistance. Producingfire-arms they had terrified the servants. They had a mule hidden in thejungle and on this the girl was placed and led off. Long after they haddisappeared some of the forest guards had timidly followed their trackfor some distance and found that it led towards the Bhutan Frontier. 

When Wargrave had extracted from the man all the information that hecould he rushed into the Mess and acquainted the two officers in it withthe terrible news. Like him they were horrified at the outrage. MajorHunt went at once to the Fort to order out parties of the detachment inaccordance with the District Superintendent's request; and Macdonald gotready to proceed to the Forest Officer's bungalow forty miles away. 

The Assistant Political Officer despatched a cipher telegram to theForeign Department, Government of India, at Simla, informing them of theoccurrence and of his intention to investigate the affair personally, and, if possible, rescue Miss Benson. He knew that the Heads of theDepartment, although they would not sanction or approve officially ofhis crossing the frontier in pursuit of the raiders, as it would becontrary to the Treaty with the Bhutanese Government, would not enquiretoo closely into his movements. But whether they liked it or not heintended to follow the abductors if necessary into the heart of Bhutan, Treaty or no Treaty. 

His first step was to send for Tashi and order him to prepare thedisguise that he intended to use. His rifle he left behind, but armedhimself with a brace of long-barrelled automatic pistols to which theirwooden holsters clipped on to form butts, thus converting them intocarbines accurate up to a range of a hundred and fifty or two hundredyards. He found a third for Tashi in Colonel Dermot's armoury, which wasat his disposal. 

Night had fallen long before the detachment elephant that bore Wargrave, Macdonald, Tashi and the forest guard as well as its own _mahout_, reached the bungalow where the District Superintendent of Police awaitedthem. The doctor found Benson suffering from a wound in the head, withconcussion and fever. Frank interrogated the servants carefully andelicited from them one fresh fact about the outrage that shed a flood oflight on its motive and its author. It was that the leader of the partywas pock-marked and blind in the right eye; and this at once confirmedFrank's suspicion that the instigator of Muriel's abduction was theChinese _Amban_, whose parting threat to the girl had thus materialised. 

At daybreak Wargrave and Tashi started on foot accompanied by a forestguard to put them on the track of the gang. This led up towards theBhutan Frontier, which runs among the hills at an average elevation ofsix thousand feet above the sea. As the Assistant Political Officeranticipated, the party had headed for the portion of the border underthe control of the _Amban's_ friend, the Penlop of Tuna. Enquiries amongthe inhabitants of the mountain villages resulted in several of themcoming forward with the information that they had seen a small body ofarmed Chinese escorting a cloaked and shrouded figure on a mule andclimbing up towards Bhutan. Two of the Government Secret Service agentsamong these Bhuttias had followed them cautiously to the frontier andseen them received there by a party of the Tuna Penlop's armedretainers. These men reported that the watch on all the passes intoBhutan was stricter than ever, and, as one of them phrased it, not evena rat could creep through unobserved. 

This discouraging intelligence was a further proof of _Amban's_ guilt. But Frank realised that it would not be sufficient to justify theGovernment of India claiming redress from the Republic of China; and, indeed, diplomatic procedure was much too slow to be of any use in therescue of the girl. An appeal to the Maharajah of Bhutan would beequally fruitless; for his powerful vassal the Tuna Penlop waspractically in rebellion against him and defied his authority. The solehope of saving Muriel lay in Wargrave's prompt action. 

Yet try as the subaltern would, he and Tashi were unable at any point topierce the cordon of guards along the frontier. Generally they got awayunseen; but on one occasion they were discovered and had to flee backinto British territory under a shower of arrows. Fortunately fire-armsare scarce in Bhutan; and the Tuna Penlop's soldiers possessed onlybows. 

It was imperative that Wargrave and his follower should be circumspectin their movements, and by day they hid in caves or in the jungleclothing the slopes of the higher hills, to escape observation byBhutanese spies. When they had exhausted the food that they had broughtwith them and failed to procure any more from their Secret Serviceagents in the villages, Tashi gathered bananas, dug up edible tuberslike the _charpattia_ or _charlong_, and snared jungle-fowl and Monalpheasants. Having obtained a bow and a sheaf of arrows from a village hesometimes succeeded in killing a _gooral_, the active little wild goatfound in the lower hills, the flesh of which is excellent. 

As day after day went by and found them no nearer success in crossingthe frontier Wargrave began to lose heart. He was harassed by anxietyover Muriel's fate and feared that he would never be able to rescue her. At times he grew desperate and but for his companion's remonstranceswould have tried to fight his way through the border guards, although inhis saner moments he knew that it would be sheer madness. 

Besides danger from human enemies the two men were menaced by peril fromwild beasts as well. Panthers prowled among the hills, great Himalayanbears, a blow from the paw of one of which would crack a man's skull, wandered on the jungle-clad slopes and, though not carnivorous, werealways ready to attack human beings. Herds of wild elephants, which hadscaled the mountains into Bhutan at the beginning of the Monsoon toreach the northern face of the Himalayas and escape the heavy rains thatdeluge the southern slopes and also to avoid the insects that plaguethem in the jungle at that season, were commencing to return to theTerai. Often Wargrave and Tashi had to climb trees to let a herd go by;and each time as he watched them the subaltern thought longingly ofColonel Dermot and Badshah. If he had them to help him how easily hecould burst the barrier between him and the land that held the girl whomhe loved and who needed him so!

Late one afternoon, as the two men were making their way through bamboojungle at the foot of high cliffs close to a pass into Ghutan which theyhad not yet attempted, they blundered into the middle of a herd ofelephants feeding. There was no tree in which they could take refuge, and before they were able to make their escape they found themselvessurrounded on every side. A number of cow-elephants, which, having youngcalves with them, were very savage, pressed threateningly towards themen, who tried to force their way into the dense growths of the bamboosand so put a frail barrier between themselves and the menacing beasts. They knew that their pistols would be useless, and they had alreadygiven themselves up for lost when the huge animals which were apparentlyabout to charge them, suddenly stopped and drew aside to allow amonstrous bull-elephant to pass through. It was a single-tusker, and itadvanced steadily towards the men. Frank stared at it incredulously. Could it be----? Yes, it was. He was sure of it. It was Badshah. 

And the elephant knew him and came towards him. In the sudden revulsionof feeling and his relief at knowing that they were safe Frank almostlost his head. A mad hope surged through him. He stretched out his armsimploringly to the great beast and cried impulsively:

"Oh, Badshah! _Hum-ko madad do_! (Help us!)"

To his amazement the animal seemed to understand. It sank slowly to itsknees as though inviting him to mount it. 

"Sahib! Sahib! He offers us his aid, " cried Tashi excitedly, and hescrambled up after Wargrave who had climbed on to the broad shoulders. 

The subaltern leaned forward and, touching the huge forehead, pointed inthe direction of Bhutan. Badshah turned and moved off towards the passthrough the mountains, while the herd followed; and Frank thrilled withthe hope that at last he was about to break through the barrier of foesbetween him and the girl he loved. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE DEVIL DANCERS OF TUNA

Flat-roofed, arcaded buildings terraced one above the other, with gailypainted walls from which covered wooden verandahs and box-like, latticedwindows jutted out, surrounded a paved courtyard, its rough flagstoneshidden by shifting, many-coloured throngs of gorgeously vestmentedpriests, mitred bishops, hideous demons, skeletons with grinning skullsand weird creatures with _papier maché_ heads of bears, tigers, dragonsand even stranger beasts. Wild but not inharmonious music fromshaven-headed members of an orchestra of weird instruments--gongs, shawns, cymbals, long silver trumpets--deafened the ears. Crowds ofgaily-clad spectators covered the flat roofs of the building andarcades, thronged the verandahs, filled the windows and squatted aroundthe courtyard--these last kept in order by bullet-headed lamas withwhips. 

It was the annual ceremony of the Devil Dance of the great Buddhistmonastery of Tuna, one of the fantastic Mystery Plays, the now almostmeaningless functions into which the ideal faith preached by Gautama, the Buddha, the high-souled reformer, has degenerated. 

From all parts of Bhutan west of the dividing line of the great BlackMountain Range, from Tibet, even from far-distant Ladak, the faithfulhad made pilgrimage to be present at the great festival in this mostfamous and sacred _gompa_ of the land. Red lamas from Western Tibetand yellow from Lhassa, abbots and monks from little-known monasterieslost among the rugged mountains, nuns with close-cropped hair from theconvents of Thimbu, Paro and Punaka, robber chiefs of the Hah-pa andgraziers from Sipchu, townsfolk from the capital and peasants from thefever-laden Himalayan valleys--all had gathered there. For all whoattended the sacred festival could gain indulgences that would save thema century or two's sojourn in the hot or cold hells of their religion. 

In a gallery adorned with artistic wooden carvings and hung withbrocaded silk and gold embroideries sat a fat, bare-legged man withclose-cropped hair and scanty beard, wearing an ample, red silk gownornamented with Chinese designs worked in gold thread. He was the Penlopof Tuna, the great feudal lord of the province, whose high-walled_jong_, or castle, crowned the rocky hill on which the monastery and thetown were built. Behind him stood his officers and attendants clad insilk or woollen kimono-like garments bound at the waist by gaily-workedleather belts from which hung handsome swords with elaborately-wroughtsilver hilts inlaid with coral and turquoises and with gold-washedsilver scabbards. 

The courtyard was gay with fluttering prayer-flags, the poles of whichas well as the wooden pillars of the arcades were hung with thebeautiful banners artistically worked with countless pieces of colouredsilks and brocades and needlework pictures of Buddhist gods and saintsfor which the monasteries of Bhutan are justly famed. From the blue skythe sun blazed on the riot of mingled hues of the decorations and thedresses of spectators and performers. 

Especially gorgeous were the robes of the high priests in the spectacle. They strongly resembled Catholic bishops in their gold-embroideredmitres, copes and vestments as, carrying pastoral crooks or sprinklingholy water, they moved around the courtyard in solemn procession behindacolytes carrying sacred banners, swinging censers and intoningharmonious chants. Troops of baffled demons fled at their approachhowling in diabolic despair. Shuddering wretches clad in scanty rags, groping blindly as in the dark, wailing miserably and uttering weird, long-drawn whistling notes, shrank aside from the fleeing devils andstretched out their hands in supplication to the saintly prelates. Theywere intended to represent the spirits of dead men straying in theperiod of _Bardo_--the forty-nine days after death--during which thesoul released from the body is doomed to wander in search of its nextincarnation. In its journeyings it is assailed and terrified by demons, who can only be defeated by the prayers of pious lamas to Chenresi theGreat Pitier. 

The whole purpose of these representations is to familiarise during lifethe devout Buddhists with the awful aspect of the many demons that willobstruct their souls after death and try to lead them astray when theyare searching for the right path to the next world in which they are tobegin a fresh existence. 

On this strange, bewildering spectacle an English girl looked down froma small balcony not twenty feet above the courtyard. And the sight ofher caused the attention of many of the spectators to wander from theMystery Play. The fat old Penlop frequently looked across the quadrangleat her from his gallery and as often uttered some coarse jest about herto his grinning followers, while he raised a chased silver goblet filledwith _murwa_, the native liquor, to his lips. 

It was Muriel Benson. For weeks she had been a prisoner in the lamasery, cloistered in a suite of well-furnished rooms and waited on by aclose-cropped nun. She had been surprised in the bungalow andoverpowered by three of the Chinamen before she realised her danger orcould seize a weapon with which to defend herself. Had she been able tosnatch up a revolver she would have made a desperate fight for freedom. But with fettered hands, a helpless captive, she had been carried awayon a mule. From the first she had recognised the pock-marked, one-eyedleader of the gang as the _Amban's_ officer, and so had known who wasthe author and cause of her abduction. For days she had been borne alongup the rough track over the mountains, through narrow, high-walledpasses, down deep valleys and across rushing torrents, closely guardedbut always treated with respect. Her captors used broken Tibetan andBhutanese when they desired to communicate with her, but they answerednone of her questions. She had dreaded reaching their destination, whereshe expected to find Yuan Shi Hung awaiting her; and once, in fear ofit, she had tried to throw herself down a precipice along the brink ofwhich the path ran. After that she had been roped to a big, powerfulManchu. 

On her arrival at the monastery she learned from her garrulousnun-attendant that the _Amban_ had been summoned to Pekin, where arevolution had taken place and his friends there hoped to make himPresident, which he regarded as a step towards the Imperial throne. Themonks of the monastery were his faithful allies on account of hisrelationship to the powerful Abbott of the Yellow Lama Temple in theChinese capital. They had agreed to guard his prisoner, if his mensucceeded in capturing her, until he returned or sent for her. 

At first the girl, relieved of the dread of falling at once into hishands, lived in the hope of a speedy rescue. It was unfortunate, shethought, that Colonel Dermot, with his extraordinary knowledge of andinfluence over the Bhutanese, had left India. But even without him thepower of the British Empire would be set at once in motion to avengethis outrage on an Englishwoman. Dermot's understudy, the AssistantPolitical Officer, faithless lover though he was, would do all he couldto save her. Assuredly she would not have long to wait. 

But as the days dragged by and she still remained a prisoner her heartsank. She needed all her courage not to lose hope and give way todespair. For she had always hanging over her the dread of Yuan ShiHung's return. But she had resolved to kill herself rather than fallinto his hands, and for that purpose had bribed her cheery, good-naturedattendant to procure a dagger for her. She pretended that she wanted itas a protection in the lamasery, for the door of her apartments waswithout a fastening. Even on the outside there was neither lock norbolt, for escape was considered impossible for her. If she got out ofthe monastery she would be captured at once in the town. 

She was not interfered with and saw no one but her nun. Once or twiceshe ventured to creep down to the great temple of the monastery, drawnby curiosity and the sound of harmonious Buddhist chants intoned by thelamaic choir. But for her anxiety about her father and her dread of the_Amban's_ return her worst trial would have been the monotony of hercaptivity, were it not that the memory of Wargrave and her unhappy lovecaused her many a sleepless night. 

With nothing to occupy her mind she hailed the festival of the DevilDance as a welcome distraction. Not even the impertinent curiosity ofthe spectators could drive her from her balcony. She followed the manyphases with interest, although she could not understand the meaning ofthem. For the performance was a curious mixture of religion andblasphemous mockery, of horse-play and coarse humour as well as astrange impressiveness. A comic interlude would follow the most solemnact. Troops of devils burlesqued the sacred rites of the faith, andbands of comic masks filled the arena at times and delighted theaudience by playing practical jokes on the spectators and each other. The solitary white woman attracted their clownish humour, and theydanced in front of her balcony, shouting out rude witticisms that causedmuch amusement to the lookers-on. Fortunately the girl's command of thelanguage, fairly good though it was, was insufficient to enable her tounderstand their coarse jests. But their intention to insult her becameobvious. The leaping, howling mob of strangely apparelled performersthreatened to storm her balcony. Some climbed on each other's shouldersto get nearer her, others even began to swarm up the pillars supportingher balcony. To the delight of the audience the noisy mob eventuallyclambered up to the railing of the balcony and, jesting, laughing, uttering weird cries, perched on it and shouted and jeered at her. 

Her face flaming, the girl drew back and was about to retire into herroom when suddenly she stopped, rigid with surprise. For above theshouts of the maskers, the roars of the spectators and the din of theclashing cymbals and braying trumpets, she heard her name spokendistinctly. Incredulous she stood rooted to the ground and stared at theyelling clowns perched on the railing. The uproar redoubled; but againshe distinguished one word above it all:

"Muriel!"

A wild hope flashed into her heart. Pretending to be amused at theantics of the performers she advanced laughingly towards them. Theygesticulated and shouted more furiously than ever. But in the medley ofstrange sounds she distinctly heard the words:

"It's I, Frank. Don't be afraid. "

They seemed to come from the _papier maché_ head of a grotesque serpentworn by a man who was foremost among her tormentors and wildest in hisfrenzied gestures. Smiling the girl stood her ground even when some ofthe maskers, encouraged by her attitude, climbed down from the rail andsurrounded her, dancing, hallooing, leaping. The snake-headed one wasthe wildest in his antics and shrieked and shouted loudest of them all. But mixed up with incoherent cries and sounds she caught the words:

"Are you guarded?" A wild yell followed. "Can you get out?" Then heyelled like a mad jackal. 

With wildly-beating heart the girl pretended to repulse the advances ofthe maskers good-humouredly and spoke to all in English, telling them toleave her balcony and cease to molest her. But with her laughingremonstrances she mingled the words:

"I am not guarded. I can leave my room. I will go down to the temple andwait behind the statue of Buddha. "

Then the serpent-headed one, aided by another with dragon mask, bothuttering fiendish yells, pushed his companions back to the railing, justas the Penlop spoke to one of his officials who shouted across to theman angry command to leave the white woman alone. The scared maskerstumbled over each other in their hurry to quit the balcony. 

Thrilled with delight the girl watched them go and then, when the entryof a fresh body of mummers into the courtyard distracted the attentionof the spectators from her, she withdrew quietly to her room. She wasalone, the nun having gone long ago to witness the Devil Dance fromamong the crowd. Muriel opened the door leading to a broad stonestaircase and peered cautiously out. There was no one to be seen. Allthe inhabitants of the monastery were gathered in the courtyard. Shestole carefully down to a side door of the lamasery chapel. 

This temple was a large and lofty building richly ornamented with finewood carvings, rich brocades and elaborately embroidered banners andhangings. The pillars supporting the roof were covered with copperplates beaten into beautiful patterns and the altars were of silver, thechief one, as in all Bhutanese chapels, being adorned by a splendid pairof elephant's tusks. Idols abounded. There was a central seated figureof Buddha thirty feet high, heavily gilt and studded with turquoises andprecious stones, with a canopy and background of golden lotus leaves. Oneither side were attendant female figures; and images of Buddhist gods, larger than life size, stood in double rows. 

Muriel concealed herself behind the colossal statue of Buddha and hadnot long to wait before from her hiding-place she saw two maskers, theSnake and the Dragon, enter the Temple cautiously. The latter remainedon guard at the door while his companion, who carried a bundle, advancedfurtively towards the great idol. As he drew near he opened the jaws ofthe mask and said in a low tone:

"Muriel! Muriel! Are you here?"

At the sound of the well-remembered voice the girl trembled violently. Her heart beat quickly as she came out from behind the statue. When hebeheld her the masker lifted the snake's head off; and Muriel saw thatthe face revealed, disguised and stained a dull yellow, was that of herlover. At the sight of it she forgot the painful past, forgot hergrievance against him, forgot the other woman, the sorrow that he hadcaused her. As he sprang towards her with outstretched arms she cried:

"Oh, thank God you've come, dear!"

Frank caught her in his eager embrace. Then under the image of the GreatDreamer who taught that Love is Illusion, that Affection is Error, thatDesire but binds closer to the revolving Wheel they kissed fondly, passionately, like two faithful lovers met again after a lifetime ofparting. And the grotesque Devil-Gods around glared fiercely at them. But the Lord Buddha looked mildly down, on his sculptured face theineffable calm of _Nirvana_, the peace of freedom from all Desireattained at last. But, heedless of gods or devils, the man strained thewoman to his heart and rained kisses on her lips, her eyes, her hair. 

There was little time for dalliance. Danger encompassed them. Wargraveproduced from the bundle that he carried a mask and a costume with apair of high, felt-soled boots, which effectively disguised Muriel. Thenthey joined Tashi; and the three passed out into the vestibule only justin time, for here they found a group of lamas and peasants from adistant part of the country stopping for a moment to look at the greatpictured Cycle of Existence painted on the wall before they entered thetemple. The vestibule opened on to a courtyard lined with the cells ofthe monks of the monastery and, as this led to the great quadrangle inwhich the Miracle Play was being performed, a stream of mummers, lamasand laymen was passing through it, mostly going to the spectacle, although a few were coming away from it. With Muriel clinging closely tohim Wargrave followed Tashi as he pushed his way through the crowd, exchanging jokes and careless banter as he went. 

The rabbit-warren of steep lanes, flights of steps and bridges overravines through the town built on the precipitous slopes of the hill wasalmost deserted, for most of the inhabitants had flocked to the DevilDance. So, unmolested and unnoticed, they reached the caravanserai inwhich the two men had lodged for several days before the festival. Herethey hurriedly changed their costumes. When they emerged from it Muriel, her hair cropped almost to the scalp and her face stained a yellowishtint, was garbed as a boy-novice of a lamasery in the priestly dress, with a great rosary round her neck. In one hand she held a begging-bowlwhile with the other she guided the feeble steps of the aged lama whosedisciple she was supposed to be. Behind them limped a lame lay-brotherof their monastery. 

In this disguise the fugitives met with no hindrance as they quitted thetown for the open country, heading towards the south. Only when wellclear of the houses did Frank and Muriel venture to converse in theirown language. Wargrave narrated all that had happened to him since theyhad parted. Anyone watching them beyond earshot would have wondered atthe joy that shone in the face of the young _chela_ (disciple) claspingthe hand of the old priest and gazing affectionately at him as they wentalong; for Frank was telling the girl of Violet's letter which had sethim free. He described his many fruitless attempts to cross thefrontier, his fortunate meeting with Badshah and the marvellous way inwhich the wonderful animal had helped him. Safely inside Bhutan he andTashi had parted with the elephants in what appeared to be the sameforest as the one in which Colonel Dermot and they had left the herd ontheir previous entry into the country. Frank had tried to imitate hischief in ordering Badshah to meet them there again; but he was verydoubtful of the result. 

They had not found it difficult to follow the trail left by Muriel'sabductors, for once inside the border the Chinamen had not tried tohide themselves. At every village along the rough road Tashi had learnedof their passing with their captive, so the two had followed themwithout difficulty to Tuna, where they soon discovered where the girlwas imprisoned. The festival had offered them an unhoped-for opportunityof rescuing her. Tashi, once a star performer in similar devil dances inhis own monastery, procured costumes and taught his companion what todo. As the number of those taking part in the performances ran tohundreds it was easy to slip in unobserved among them. 

Then Muriel told of her adventures. But, far more interesting to boththan the details of these mere happenings, each revealed to the otherthe longings, the love, the hopes and fears, that had filled his and herheart during the unhappy period of their estrangement. 

Now began a wonderful odyssey that, but for the dread of pursuit andcapture would have seemed a journey in Fairyland to the re-unitedlovers. Indeed, as they travelled on day after day and danger seemedleft behind, they forgot everything in the joy of being together oncemore, their vows exchanged, their faith pledged, the Future a long vistaof golden days of delight. It was well that Tashi was with them to be onthe watch, for the lovers walked with their heads in the clouds. 

And certainly theirs was an interesting pilgrimage. Bhutan is perhapsthe least-known country in Asia, the last that has kept its cherishedseclusion since Anglo-Indian troops burst the barrier of Tibet andflaunted the Union Jack in the streets of the fabled city of Lhassa. ButBhutan is still a secret, a mysterious, land. Only a few British Envoys, from Bogle in the latter half of the 18th Century to Claude White andBell in the beginning of this, and their companions, had intruded on itsprivacy before Colonel Dermot. So that for the lovers it had all thefascination of the unknown. 

Sometimes, among the ice-clad peaks of the giant ranges of theHimalayas, they crossed snowy passes fourteen thousand feet above thesea, and did not neglect to throw a stone upon the _obos_--the cairnsthat pious and superstitious travellers erect to propitiate the spiritsof the passes. Sometimes the path led under beautiful cliffs of purewhite crystalline limestone that in the brilliant sunlight shone likethe finest marble. Often they journeyed through a lovely land ofgently-sloping hills, of grassy uplands, of deep valleys givingdelightful vistas of snow-clad mountains far away. They walked throughpinewoods, through forests of maple, silver fir, and larch, and miles ofhuge bushes of flowering rhododendrons. They toiled up a rough and stonytrack over bare and desolate land that was an old moraine and undermoraine terraces one above another, forming giant spurs of the ruggedhills. There were dark and fearsome ravines, so deep that they couldscarcely hear the roar of the foaming torrents rushing among the greatboulders below as they crossed on swaying suspension bridges of ironchains. These had been built hundreds of years before by long-forgottenChinese engineers. Three chains on one level supported the bamboo orplank footway, while one on either side served as a hand-rail, and abamboo or grass lattice-work between them and the roadbearers hid fromsight the deep gorge below. Often these bridges were only of ropes oftwisted withes or grass and swung and swayed in terrifying fashion withthe motion of the traveller. There were broad rivers over the eddying, swirling waters of which strong cantilever bridges of stout wooden beamswere pushed out from the steep banks. 

Truly a beautiful land Bhutan, at its loveliest perhaps in spring, whenthe hills and upland meadows where the yaks graze, ten thousand feetabove the sea, blaze with the mingled colours of anemones blue andwhite, of yellow pansies and mauve and white irises, of large whiteroses and small yellow ones, of giant yellow primulas with six tiers offlowers, when the oaks and the chestnuts are clothed in young green, andthe apricot, pear and orange trees are in bloom, when large and lovelyblossoms cover that little-known tree that the Bhutanese call _chape_, when the bright green of the young grass runs up to the whitesnowfields. The woods are full of a pretty ground orchid, beautifultrailing blossoms of others droop from the boughs of the great trees, and on the magnesium limestone hills one of the rarest orchids grows inprofusion. 

But to the two pilgrims of Love the land seemed beautiful even now thatthe winter was not far distant. In the silent woods, hidden from pryingeyes, they sat hand in hand and whispered to each other over and overagain the oldest, sweetest story that the Earth has known. Strange tohear words of love from the lips of such a weird-looking couple; yetMuriel in her quaint disguise with her silky hair cropped to the scalpwas as beautiful in her lover's eyes as when he had seen her in herprettiest frocks. And she thought the yellow-skinned, wrinkled old lamainfinitely more attractive than the gay young subaltern of RangaDuar--for he was her own now. Such is Love's glamour. Muriel hadforgiven royally. 

Bhutan is a Buddhist-ruled land, therefore slaying for sport and fishingin the rivers is prohibited; nay, more, the Maharajah sometimes forbidsthe killing of even domestic animals for food. So wild life abounds. Thefugitives often saw flocks of burhel--called _nao_ in Bhutan--feeding onthe precipitous slopes of the higher hills. Once Frank and Murielexcitedly watched a snow-leopard stalking one of these big-horned sheepsixteen thousand feet above the sea-level. And in these heights theyeven saw an occasional lynx or wolf, generally only to be found in thehighest elevations bordering on Tibet. Silver-haired _langur_ apes, thewhite fringes around their black faces giving them a comic resemblanceto aged negroes, awoke the echoes of the mountains with their deepbooming cry; while in the lower valleys little brown monkeys mopped andmowed from the trees at the fugitives as they passed. On one occasionMuriel, exhilarated by the keen, life-giving air, ran gaily on ahead ofthe others in a wood--and came on a tiger enjoying its midday siesta. But the striped brute only uttered a startled "Wough! Wough!" like a bigdog and dashed away through the undergrowth. Another time they disturbeda red bear feeding on the carcase of a strange beast that seemed amixture of goat, donkey and deer--Tashi called it a _serao_. And at alower elevation they blundered on two black bears--not flesh-eatersthese, yet more dangerous--grubbing for roots, and on another occasionsaw one climbing a tree in search of wild bees' nests. 

In a dense jungle early one morning a beautiful black panther with askin like watered silk glided stealthily by them, showing its whitefangs and red mouth in an angry snarl as it went. And deep down in avalley they espied a rhinoceros feeding a thousand feet below them. Butthey came across no elephants; and Frank noted the fact despairingly asrendering even less probable a meeting with Badshah and his herd. 

Bird-life abounded, from the snow partridges that flew in the hillseighteen thousand feet high to pigeons of every kind: birds of allsizes, from great eagles to the little quails that hid in thecornfields; lammergeiers that were fed on human bodies, the dead offamilies of high degree, exposed on a flat rock of slate with head andshoulders tied to a wooden axle that stretched the corpse like a rack. In Bhutan ordinary folk are cremated. 

On their journey the fugitives met with wayfarers of every rank andclass. On a steep mountain track they stood aside to let a high officialgo by. He was sitting pickaback in a cloth on a powerfully-builtservant, the ends of the cloth knotted on the man's forehead. Behindtrudged an escort of bare-legged swordsmen with leather shields andshining steel helmets. Coolies, male and female, followed, carrying thegreat man's baggage in baskets placed in the crutch of forked stickstied on their backs. Sometimes they passed a rival lama glaring withjealous eye at them. Often they met groups of raiyats, sturdy peasants, thick-limbed, bare-footed, bare-headed, the women clear-eyed, deep-bosomed, but uglier than the males. These did reverence to the holymen and put their modest offerings of copper coins or food into Muriel'sbegging-bowl. 

Another time it was a family group at food, eating by the wayside. Thegroup consisted of a stout, ruddy-faced woman with close-cropped hair, hung with many necklaces of coral and turquoise, and waited on by herthree meek and submissive husbands, all brothers--for this is a land ofpolyandry. She invited the fugitives to share their meal, and bade herdutiful spouses serve the supposed lamas. They proffered cooked ricecoloured with saffron and other food in the excellent Bhutanese basketswoven with very finely split cane. These are made in two circular partswith rounded top and bottom pieces fitting so well that water canactually be carried in them. From sealed wicker-covered bamboos thehosts filled _choongas_ (bamboo mugs) with _murwa_, the beer of thecountry, and _chang_, the native spirit. Frank and Muriel refused theliquor; but Tashi drank their share as well as his, to give the piouspeasants an opportunity of acquiring merit. And wife and husbandsthought themselves amply rewarded by a muttered blessing. 

A very different figure was that of a man lame of the right leg andlimping painfully down a steep hill in front of the fugitives. Muriel, full of pity, whispered to her lover after they had passed him: "Oh, thepoor wretch! Did you see, dear, he had lost the right hand as well?" Butshe shuddered when she learned that the cripple was a murderer punishedby the severing of the tendons of the leg and the loss of the hand thatstruck the fatal blow. 

In the cultivated valleys, where barley, buckwheat and mustard grew, there were everywhere evidences of the religious feeling of the WesternBhutanese. Every hill was crowned with a _gompa_ or chapel, _chortens_and praying-wheels stood beside the road, and _mendongs_ orpraying-walls, a mile long, their stones engraved with sacred words, were built near habitations. 

In the villages the disguised fugitives were well treated. Food andlodging were offered them freely in the cabins as in the great houses ofofficials and rich folks, where they spent hours watching the skilledartisans among the feudal retainers of their hosts weaving silk, makingwoollen and cotton garments, brocade and embroideries, or hammeringartistic designs on silver or copper plates backed with lac. Nonesuspected the three of being other than they seemed. The Buddhism ofBhutan and Tibet to-day has but one article of faith--"Acquire merit byfeeding and paying the lamas and they will win salvation for you. " Sorich and poor vied in giving their best to the holy wayfarers, andsought not to intrude on the meditations or privacy of lama and _chela_, and welcomed the cheery company of the more worldly lay brother whocould crack a joke or empty a mug with any man and pitch the stonequoits or shoot an arrow in the archery contests better than the villagechampion. 

Thus, contentedly and free from care, the three fugitives wandered ontowards the south where on the frontier they expected their troubles tobegin. One day when passing a hamlet by the roadside they tarried tolook on at a wedding at which a buxom country maid was being married toa family of six brothers. The village headman performed the simpleceremony, which consisted of offering a bowl of _murwa_ to the gods, then presenting a cupful to the bride and eldest bridegroom, blessingthem, and expressing a hope that the union might be a fruitful one. Therest, after the usual presents had been given to the bride's relatives, was simply a matter of feasting everyone. The stranger lamas wereinvited to join; but Frank refused and dragged away the convivial Tashi, who was anxious to accept the invitation. Wargrave with difficulty ledhim aside and was so occupied in arguing with his discontented guidethat he did not notice that Muriel had not followed. 

A sudden cry from her and his name shrieked out wildly made him turn inalarm. To his horror he saw the girl struggling in the grasp of aChinaman, while another on a mule and holding the bridle of a secondanimal was calling on the villagers in the Penlop's name to assist hiscomrade. 

CHAPTER XV

A STRANGE RESCUE

Neither Muriel, absorbed in watching the wedding, nor the two menengrossed in their dispute had noticed the Chinese come riding along theroad and pulling up when they saw the peasants gathered together. One ofthem had been about to question the villagers from his saddle when hiseyes fell on the disguised girl standing apart from the crowd. He staredat her for a few moments. Then he spoke hurriedly to his companions, and, springing from the mule's back seized Muriel in a rough grasp. 

At her cry Frank ran back, forgetting his disguise. He recognised in herassailant the pock-marked officer of the _Amban_. The man, seeing himcoming, drew a revolver; but Wargrave whipped out his pistol quicker andwithout hesitation shot him through the heart. The Chinaman collapsed tothe ground and in his fall dragged the girl down. His comrade fired athis slayer and, missing him, wheeled his mule round and galloped off. Tashi returned the shot while Frank ran to Muriel. He fired severaltimes and the rider was apparently hit; for he fell forward on the neckof his animal; but he recovered himself and, crouching low, was stillin the saddle when a turn in the road hid him from sight. 

The startled villagers scattered and fled in terror at the tragedysuddenly enacted in their midst, the six cowardly husbands desertingtheir new-made wife and leaving her to follow as they ran away, whichshe did at her utmost speed. 

Frank freed Muriel from the stiffened grasp of the dead man and helpedher to her feet; then the three hurried from the fatal spot, so latelyfilled by a cheerful crowd of merrymakers and now tenanted only by thecorpse that lay with sightless eyes staring up at the blue sky. Theymade for the shelter of jungle-clad hills that rose a couple of milesaway. 

From now onwards, for two or three weeks, the fugitives led the lives ofhunted rats. They travelled generally only by night, avoiding villagesand farms, and keeping away from the road as much as possible. They werein the southern zone of Bhutan lying nearest the Indian frontier, aregion of precipitous hills ten or twelve thousand feet high, theirsides clothed with dense vegetation, of deep, fever-laden valleys ofawe-inspiring gorges, of rivers liable to sudden floods and rising in afew hours thirty or forty feet. 

Tashi in various disguises occasionally visited villages in search offood and information; while the lovers awaited his return in some hiddenspot, Frank holding the anxious girl in his arms and trying to calm herfears. In one excursion the ex-lama got the first definite news of thepursuit. He learned that the _Amban_ had returned unexpectedly to Tuna, the plot in his favour in Pekin having failed. He was not satisfied bythe tales told by the monks of the lamasery to account for Muriel'smysterious disappearance, which was that she had been carried off bydevils. He insisted on a search being made for her along the road to theIndian border and sent his own Chinese guards to direct the pursuit. Thecompanion of the pock-marked man had got back to Tuna and told of theirrecognition of her. Yuan Shi Hung, furious at the death of his officerbut overjoyed at the discovery of the girl, set out at once with hispersonal followers and a body of the Penlop's soldiers to take up thechase. 

The fugitives, hotly pursued, had several hair-breadth escapes. Oncethey almost blundered into a bivouac of their enemies at night. Theysucceeded at last in reaching the great forest in which Wargrave and theex-lama had parted from the elephants, the forest which ran along thefoot and clothed the northern slopes of the second-last range ofmountains between them and the frontier. But alas! there was no trace ofBadshah's herd; yet this was not surprising, for they found themselvesin a part unknown to them. Through this vast jungle they travelled byday, until one evening they reached a deep gorge that pierced the rangeand seemed to promise a passage through the mountains. 

They camped for the night by its mouth, intending to enter it atsunrise. Dawn found them breaking their fast on a scanty meal of driedmutton and bananas. Suddenly Tashi stopped eating and held up a warninghand. His companions drew their pistols, Frank having given his secondweapon to Muriel. Presently they heard the faint sounds of an animal'sapproach on their track. Just as they had risen silently to their feetthree gigantic dogs appeared, scenting their trail. They were Tibetanmastiffs, such as are to be seen chained in the court yards oflamaseries. At sight of them the huge brutes stopped, crouched for aninstant, showing their fangs in a fierce snarl, and then rushed at them. 

Without hesitation the three fired. One of the dogs dropped dead; butthe others, though wounded, came on. One bounded at Muriel. Frank threwhimself in front of her, firing rapidly at it. Several bullets struckit, but the savage brute sprang at his throat. He grappled with it, striving by main strength to hold it off. Muriel rushed to his aid andputting her pistol to the mastiff's head shot it dead. Tashi meantimehad killed the third. 

Knowing that their pursuers must be close behind the dogs they fled intothe gorge. On either hand stupendous cliffs towered up two thousand feetabove them, scarcely a hundred yards apart, seeming to meet overheadand shut off the sky. Here and there the giant walls were split from topto bottom in slits opening off the main passage. As the fugitives ran onthe gorge narrowed until it was scarcely fifty yards wide, and theybegan to fear that it might prove only a _cul-de-sac_ in which theywould be hopelessly trapped. They heard cries behind them, strangelyechoed by the rocky walls. Breathless, panting, their tired limbs givingway under them, they staggered blindly on. 

The pass turned sharply to the right. As they approached the bend theybecame aware of a dull rumbling, and the ground, which suddenly began toslope steeply down, shook violently under their feet. Wondering what newdanger, what fresh horror, awaited them they stumbled on, turned thecorner and stopped short in dismayed despair. 

From side to side the gorge was filled with a tumultuous, racing floodof foam-flecked water, a rushing river that poured out of a naturaltunnel in the steeply sloping rocky bottom of the pass as from a sluice. It surged against the precipitous cliffs, leaping up against the wallsthat hemmed it in, sweeping in mad onset of white-topped waves andeddying whirlpools flinging spray high in air. The stoutest swimmerwould be tossed about helplessly in it, rolled over and over, choked, suffocated, sucked under, the life beaten out of him. 

For one wild moment Frank thought of seizing Muriel in his arms andspringing into the raging flood, but the sheer hopelessness of escapethat way checked him. It was certain death. Better to turn and facetheir pursuers. There was more chance of life in battling with a scoreor two of Bhutanese swordsmen than with the tumbling, tossing waters. 

So, pistol in hand, the three retraced their steps, looking everywherefor a suitable spot to make a stand. But on either hand the cliffs rosesheer, their faces seamed here and there with cracks, but with never acrevice big enough to shelter them. They passed the bend; and a fewhundred yards beyond it some large rocks fallen from the cliff on oneside lay close against its base. 

Frank resolved to take their stand here. It was the only cover visible. They fitted the holster-stocks to their pistols, converting them intocarbines which could be fired from the shoulder, enabling them to aimmore accurately at a longer range. Then while Tashi crept cautiouslyalong the pass to scout, the subaltern and the girl examined theposition for defence. Thus occupied they were startled by shots ringingout, echoing down the vast canyon. Taking cover they saw their companionrunning back followed by a body of men, a few mounted, the majority onfoot. Some had fire-arms, others bows, the rest swords. 

Wargrave and Muriel opened on the pursuers with their automatic weaponsand checked them. Tashi was about a hundred yards from shelter when ashot struck him. He stumbled and fell, while a howl of delight rose fromhis foes. As he tried to struggle up bullets kicked up the dust roundhim and several arrows dropped near. 

"Muriel, loose off as many cartridges as you can to cover me, " saidWargrave, laying his pistol beside her. 

Before the girl realised his meaning he had sprung out from the rocksand was running towards Tashi. For a moment the pursuers were puzzled byhis action and then fired their rifles and matchlocks and shot arrows athim. But unscathed he reached the wounded man who had been so faithful acomrade to him. Raising him on his back he staggered towards the rocks, while Muriel pumped lead at the enemy and succeeded in keeping downtheir fire somewhat. As Wargrave laid the ex-lama on the ground inshelter Tashi seized his hand and touched it with his lips and foreheadin silent gratitude. Frank hurriedly examined and bandaged the woundmade by a large-calibre bullet, which had passed through the leg belowthe knee, lacerating the muscles but not injuring the bone. Then he tookup his post again, while Tashi dragged himself up behind a rock andopened fire on their foes. 

These were for the most part Bhutanese, but there were several Chineseamong them. 

"Look! Look, Frank! There's the _Amban_, " cried Muriel excitedly, pointing to a man who rode into sight along the pass on a white mule. 

She fired at him. The bullet missed him but apparently went unpleasantlyclose, for Yuan Shi Hung galloped back into shelter behind a projectingbuttress of the cliffs. 

The attackers numbered sixty or eighty. They were apparently staggeredby the rapid fire poured into them, which killed or wounded several ofthem. Some tried to find shelter by huddling against the side of thepass and others flung themselves on the ground behind boulders; but theleaders urged them on. 

There could be little doubt as to the issue of the fight. The bulletsfrom the Chinamen's rifles and the Bhutanese matchlocks spattered therocks or the face of the cliff; but the archers began to shoot almostvertically into the air from their strong bamboo bows, and severaliron-tipped, four-feathered arrows dropped behind the cover, one missingWargrave by a hand's breadth. 

Fearing for Muriel he tried to shield her with his body. 

"What's the use, dearest?" she said. "If you are killed I don't want tolive. Indeed, we must both die now. I shall not be taken alive. Kiss meand tell me once more that you love me. "

He held her to his heart in a passionate embrace and kissed her fondly. 

"They are coming now, sahib, " said Tashi. "And I have only a fewcartridges left. "

The lovers paid no heed. 

"Goodbye, my dear, dear love, " whispered Muriel, "I'm happier dying withyou than living without you. "

Frank kissed her, solemnly now, for the last time. Then they turned toface the enemy. The swordsmen were massing for a charge. Crouching lowthey held their shields before them and waved their long-bladed _dahs_above their heads, uttering fierce yells. 

Suddenly the _Amban_ and other mounted men who had been sheltering outof sight dashed into view and rode madly into the rear ranks, knockingdown and trampling on anyone in their way. The men on foot looked behindand broke into a run, coming on in a disordered mob. But it was not acharge--it was more like a panic. For with wild cries of frantic terrorthey fled past the defenders who, fearing a trick, fired their lastcartridges into them, dropping several, some of whom tried to rise anddrag themselves on in dread of something terrible behind. 

Then into sight came a vast herd of wild elephants, filling the gorgefrom cliff to cliff and moving at a slow trot. A huge bull led them, lines of other tuskers behind him, crowds of females and calvesbringing up the rear. The onset of the mass of great monsters wasterrifying. It was appalling, irresistible. 

Muriel cried out:

"It's Badshah! Frank, it's Badshah! Look at the leader! Don't you see?"

Tashi stared at the oncoming herd. Then he quietly unfixed his pistoland put it away in the holster. 

"We are saved, sahib, " he said with the calm fatalism of the East. "TheGod of the Elephants has sent them. "

And he limped out from behind the rocks. The two Europeans followed him. Their foes had disappeared, all but the dead and wounded. 

Badshah--for it was he--swerved out of his course and came to them, while the herd went on, opening out to pass him as he sank to his kneesbefore the humans. Tashi, despite his wound, climbed on to his neck, while Wargrave mounted behind him and Muriel took her seat on the broadback, clinging to her lover. Then the tusker rose and moved swiftlyafter the herd. 

As he rounded the bend a strange sight met the eyes of those he carried. Their enemies were huddled together in terror near the brink of thetunnel from which the surging water rushed out. Some endeavoured topluck up courage to throw themselves into the river, while the majorityhad turned to face the elephants. But they were paralysed with fright. Afew tried to discharge their fire-arms or loosed their arrows withtrembling hands. As the elephants, quickening their pace, rushed on inan irresistible mass some of the men, crazed with fright, ran to meetthem. Others flung themselves to the ground where they were. 

But over both the great monsters passed, treading them to pulp under theponderous feet. The animals of the mounted men, as terrified as theirriders, swung about and sprang headlong into the river. Many of the menon foot did the same. The heads of animals and men appeared anddisappeared, bobbing up and down, then their bodies were rolled over andover, tossed up on the waves and sucked under. One by one theydisappeared. 

A few of the panic-stricken mob had tried to climb the precipitouscliffs in vain. One, however, getting his hands into a narrow, slantingcrack, dragged himself up a few feet. 

It was the _Amban_. Frank drew his pistol; but Muriel clung to his armand cried:

"Oh, spare the poor wretch!"

Tashi had no scruples, but his magazine was empty and he searched invain for a cartridge. 

But Yuan Shi Hung's time had come. Badshah's trunk shot out and caughtthe climber's ankle. The Chinaman was plucked from the face of the cliffand hurled to the ground. A frenzied shriek burst from him as the tuskwas driven into his shuddering body, which in an instant was trodden toa bloody pulp. Muriel hid her face against her lover, but the agony ofthe wretch's dying yell rang in her ears. 

Not one of their enemies was left alive. Then the elephants one by oneslid and slithered down into the rushing water which was very littlebelow the brink. The mothers supported the youngest calves with theirtrunks, the less immature climbing on to their backs. Tashi checkedBadshah as he was about to follow the herd into the river and, lame ashe was, slid down to the ground. He searched the crushed and mangledcorpses of his fellow-countrymen and collected their girdles until hehad enough to knot and plait into two ropes, one to go about Badshah'sneck, the other around the great body. More girdles sufficed to jointhese together and supply cords by which the men and the woman on hisback could tie themselves on to the ropes and to each other securely. When this was done Badshah slid into the river. As elephants do he sankin the water until only the upper part of his head and the tip of hisupraised trunk were above it. Without the precaution that Tashi hadtaken his riders would have been instantly swept away. 

Only elephants could have battled successfully with that raging torrent. The upflung spray and leaping waves hid the herd from the fugitives asthey clung desperately to the ropes and to each other. 

 * * * * *

Eighteen months had gone by. In the garden of the Political Agent'sbungalow in Ranga Duar Colonel Dermot, completely restored to health, and his wife stood with his Assistant, Major Hunt and Macdonald. Theywere watching Mrs. Wargrave who, with Brian and Eileen clinging to her, was holding out her two months' old baby to a great elephant with asingle tusk. The animal raised its trunk as though in salute, then, lowering it, gently touched with its sensitive tip the laughing infantwhose tiny hand instinctively clutched it and held it fast. 

With a smile Muriel turned her head and looked at her husband. 

"Badshah has accepted him. Your son is free of the herd, " said ColonelDermot.