esmond escorted her
into the tent, she turned upon him a smile of unabashed amusement.

"This is flattering! I appear to have made a conquest of _Monsieur le
Capitaine_!"

"And for once appearances are not deceitful," he capped her straight.

"How enchantingly direct you are! But at this rate Mrs Desmond really
_will_ disapprove. . ."

"No fear! Mrs Desmond is enjoying it quite as much as I am!"

She divined a hidden meaning in his words: but merely lifted her
eyebrows and shoulders in characteristic fashion.

"Well--it she doesn't object, I am sure I don't!"

"Nor I, by any means. . . . Come this way."

He led her across the tent, having noted and admired his wife's skilful
bit of strategy: and Lenox instinctively took the same direction.

Quita chose the chair farthest from the Palace group; and in a few
moments, she knew that her husband was standing close behind her. It
was the first time he had deliberately approached her since their
encounter at the ball: and the silent tribute, so characteristic of the
man, elated her with a renewed sense of power over a personality
immeasurably stronger than her own. It was like bringing down big game
after the mild diversion of shooting pheasants. But he had spent the
whole morning in the verandah with Honor Desmond; and the remembrance
still rankled. Upset her equanimity as he might, the spirit of
surrender was still far from her.

At his approach Desmond made a slight movement, as if to rise; but the
other shook his head. It was enough to be thus close to her, to feel
that speech was possible, yet not compulsory. All of which Desmond was
quick to understand.

"Look, . . look . . ." Quita whispered suddenly, leaning towards him.
"They are forcing that poor brute to the edge. He has been in before.
Colonel Mayhew told me. He knows; . . . he is afraid. Oh, _mon Dieu_,
how horrible! . . . He is over!"

A mighty shout from the assembled thousands, who stood ten and twenty
deep along the banks, confirmed her words. The shuddering victim had
been forced over the ten-foot drop; and for a few breathless moments,
was lost in the green swirling water. A second shout,--unanimous, as
from one Gargantuan throat,--heralded the reappearance of the flat
black head, with its dilated nostrils held well above the blinding
wreaths of foam. Tossed mercilessly from boulder to boulder, the stout
swimmer neared the first big rapid; and a moment later was swept, an
unre