g, Eldred."

Lenox shrugged his shoulders, and laughed.

"I'm a keen soldier, if that's what you're driving at: and I believe
the world holds no finer school for character than constant active
service."

"I confess I never thought of looking at war in that light! But I can
well believe it, if its horrors and hardships turn out many men . . .
like you."

Words and tone set the man's pulses in commotion. But he clenched his
teeth upon his pipe-stem, and ignored the personal allusion.

"Well, you can see for yourself, when you get there. Taking 'em all
round, I think you'll find the Piffers as fine a set of fellows as you
could wish to meet anywhere; and it's hard work, and hard conditions of
life, that thrash them into shape."

"And the stations, where I am to be 'buried alive' in such good
company?"

"I'm afraid the stations are the least satisfactory part of the
programme. There are five of them along our north-west strip of
desert; all more or less hopeless to get at. We play general post
among them every two or three years, to avoid stagnation and keep the
men fit. Just now my battery's quartered at Dera Ghazee Khan, a
God-forsaken place, right down by Scindh. I don't know how I have the
cheek to think of taking you there."

"But if I refuse to be left behind . . . ?"

"Well, of course . . . in that case . . ." His eyes, looking up into
hers, completed the sentence.

"I'm not a 'society woman,' remember; and setting aside your
companionship, I should prefer a 'God-forsaken place' on the Indian
Frontier to St. John's Wood or Upper Tooting, any day! I am prepared
to find it all very interesting."

"So you may, at the start. But the interest is likely to wear thin
after the first few years of it."

"Well, perhaps by that time we shall have arrived at the enchanted
palace, and then nothing else will matter at all!--There now; I've done
all I can to my sketch for the present. Shall we go on?"

Lenox roused himself, not without reluctance, and they went on
accordingly.

Towards the summit, trees grew rare: and they found the solitary hotel
perched aloft, upon an open space; a hive of restless shifting human
life, set in the midst of the changeless hills.

After a short interview with the manager's wife, they found themselves
alone again, in the private sitting-room engaged by Lenox. A wood fire
burned merrily in the open hearth, for September evenings are chilly at
that altitude; and the win