een. It was the figure of an old man,
grey-bearded, slightly bent, clad in a long native garment. For a moment
he stood, then stepped to the window and closed it swiftly in Max's
face. So sudden and so noiseless was the action that Max was taken
wholly by surprise. He did not so much as know whether his presence had
been observed.

Then the blind came down with the same noiseless rapidity, and he was
left in darkness.

Mindful of the mysterious visitor in the compound, he turned about and
felt his way back to the corner of the bungalow, deciding that the
lighted drawing-room was preferable to the dark verandah.

Reaching the corner and within sight of the lamplight, he stopped again
and listened. But the compound was still and to all appearance deserted.
He waited for a full minute, but heard no sound beyond a faint stirring
of the night-wind in the cypresses. Slowly at length he turned and
retraced his steps, contemptuously wondering if the mysterious East had
tampered with his nerves.

It was evident that his host had retired for the night with the
assistance of his bearer, and he decided to follow his example. He
closed and bolted the windows and went to his own room.

CHAPTER XIV

SMOKE FROM THE FIRE

"It always used to be regarded as anything but a model State," smiled
Major Hunt-Goring, as he lay in a long chair and watched Daisy's busy
fingers at work on a frock for Peggy. "I suppose our friend Nicholas
Ratcliffe has changed all that, however. A queer little genius--Nick."

"He is my husband's and my greatest friend," said Daisy.

"Really!" Hunt-Goring laughed silkily. "Do you know, Mrs. Musgrave,
that's the fifth time you have mentioned your husband in as many
minutes? If I remember aright, he used not to be so often on your lips."

Daisy glanced up momentarily. "And now," she said, "he is never out of
my thoughts."

"Really!" Hunt-Goring said again. He looked at her very attentively for
a few seconds before he relaxed again with eyes half-closed. "That is
_tres convenant_ for you both," he observed. "I enjoy the unusual
spectacle of a wife who is happy as well as virtuous."

Daisy stitched on in silence. Privately she wondered how she had ever
come to be on intimate terms with the man, and condemned afresh the
follies of her youth.

"Have you been Home since I had the pleasure of your society at
Mahalaleshwar I will not say how many years ago?" asked Hunt-Goring,
after a pause.

"I we