belt for a pellet
of opium.

"He will sleep now, Huzoor, like a day-old babe; and the Presence will
sleep also. Since yesterday at this time your Honour hath taken no
rest; and there be three hours yet to parade-time."

"Good. We have fought a tough fight, thou and I, and be sure Lenox
Sahib will know of thy share in it. Wake me at half-past five."

"Huzoor."

Zyarulla salaamed profoundly; and Desmond, dropping with fatigue, flung
himself, even as he was, on to a chair-bed in the adjoining
dressing-room, and slept the dreamless sleep of exhaustion.

Before six he was over at Meredith's bungalow, sitting on the edge of
his wife's bed, drinking tea with an egg in it,--her own
prescription,--and enjoying her delight at his news.

"Good enough, isn't it?" he concluded heartily. "I'll take the
telegraph office on my way back."

"And _I'll_ come over to breakfast, bag and baggage!"

"Capital. If John agrees."

"Of course he will. He's not such a fidget as you are!"

"Glad to hear it; if it means getting you back; and both rooms shall be
disinfected to-day, Lord, but it's a weight off my mind!"

And he cantered down to the Lines in such a mood of exaltation as they
know who have been privileged to fight for a human life, and win.

Honor got her own way, as she always did; and half-past nine found her
back at her deserted post behind the teapot. Desmond fancied that she
looked paler than usual; that her cheerfulness was veiled by a shadow
of constraint. But as Paul was present, enjoying his first normal
breakfast, he contented himself with scrutinising her, when her
attention seemed to be taken up elsewhere. As a matter of fact, Honor
knew precisely how often he looked at her; and, womanlike, hugged his
solicitude to her heart. For there had been moments, in the past two
days, when the traitorous thought would obtrude itself that perhaps the
child needed her most after all.

Directly the meal was over, she rose, murmuring that she had 'things to
see to,' and went out, leaving the men with their cigars. But instead
of going to the store cupboard, where the old Khansamah awaited her,
armed with his daily _hissab_,[1] she slipped into the drawing-room,
sat down at her bureau, and leaned her head on her hand; honestly
hoping that Theo might leave the house without coming to her. For all
that, the sound of his elastic step brought a light into her eyes. She
did not rise, or look round; and he came and