also watched for him, and finally concluded somewhat
discontentedly that he had gone on some mission regarding which he had
not deemed it advisable to inform them.

"He is like that," he told Stella, and for the first time he spoke
almost disparagingly of his hero. "So beastly discreet. He never thinks
any one can keep a secret besides himself."

"Ah well, never mind," Stella said. "We can do without him."

But Tommy had reached the stage when the smallest disappointment was a
serious matter. He fretted and grew feverish over his friend's absence.

When Major Ralston saw him that evening he rated him soundly, and even,
Stella thought, seemed inclined to blame her also for the set-back in
his patient's condition.

"He must be kept quiet," he insisted. "It is absolutely essential, or we
shall have the whole trouble over again. I shall have to give him a
sedative and leave him to you. I can't possibly look in again to-night,
so it will be useless to send for me. You will have to manage as best
you can."

He departed, and Stella arranged to divide the night-watches with Peter
the Great. She did not privately believe that there was much ground for
alarm, but in view of the doctor's very emphatic words she decided to
spend the first hours by Tommy's side. Peter would relieve her an hour
after midnight, when at his earnest request she promised to go to her
room and rest.

The sedative very speedily took effect upon Tommy and he slept calmly
while she sat beside him with the light from the lamp turned upon her
book. But though her eyes were upon the open page her attention was far
from it. Her thoughts had wandered to Monck and dwelt persistently upon
him. The memory of that last conversation she had had with Ralph Dacre
would not be excluded from her brain. What was the meaning of this
mysterious absence? What was he doing? She felt uneasy, even troubled.
There was something about this Secret Service employment which made her
shrink, though she felt that had their mutual relations been of the
totally indifferent and casual order she would not have cared. It seemed
to her well-nigh impossible to place any real confidence in a man who
deliberately concealed so great a part of his existence. Her instinct
was to trust him, but her reason forbade. She was beginning to ask
herself if it would not be advisable to leave India just as soon as
Tommy could spare her. It seemed madness to remain on if she desired to
avoid any incr