ll-box that now
lay regally entombed under fifty feet of snow, he had suffered no
collapse. His gradual method of unwinding the chain had averted that
final danger and degradation. Bat there had been days when all his
training in self-discipline had been needed to restrain him from
applying to Zyarulla, whose kummerbund held a perennial store of the
precious drug,--the more so since his Ladaki 'cook'--chosen mainly for
his powers of endurance--knew rather less about the primitive
requirements of camp catering than Lenox himself; and in spite of keen
air and exercise his appetite had steadily fallen away. There were
rare days, of course, when he could have eaten camel's flesh, and that
gratefully; but there were many more when the mere man yearned towards
the luxury of plate and silver, of varied meats, and the sparkle of an
iced peg. To-night his 'dinner' consisted of a large cup of cocoa,
some native biscuits, and a lump of milk-cheese made by the Khirgiz,
whose domed huts and scattered flocks are the only signs of human life
in this dry region of snow and sun and tireless wind.

On the table at his elbow, besides the steaming cocoa, were two camp
candlesticks, some closely written sheets of a letter to Quita, and her
last that had reached him outside Hunza five weeks ago. Each one he
had received showed more clearly how the mysterious influence of
absence was winning for him that volatile essence of her which had
eluded his grasp throughout six months of personal contact, and years
of unwearied devotion. Of the deeper, hidden forces at work on his
behalf, he guessed nothing. Only he was aware of subtle changes taking
place in her--of an indefinable softening and uplifting of the whole
woman, that increased tenfold his longing for a reunion which promised
to be closer, more consummate than the best that they had achieved as
yet.

But to-night, because body and spirit were flagging unawares, the miles
upon miles of inhospitable mountain country, that must be traversed
before he could regain the outposts of civilised life, overpowered his
imagination. To-night, for the first time, despondency and the ache of
desire magnified the very real dangers ahead--the lateness of the
season, the uncertainty of weather and supplies. Difficulties in
respect of transport had obliged him to cut down his commissariat,
despatching the remainder, with his heavy baggage, to await him on the
Indian side of the Darkot Pass--the la