d naturally have
the use of Diamond during the tournament, and afterwards, except when
he happened to be away on leave.
It took him several minutes to grasp those half dozen lines of
writing; and if the letters grew indistinct as he read, he had small
cause to be ashamed of the fact.
On looking up, he found Paul watching him from the verandah; and
dismissing the _sais_ he sprang up the steps at a bound.
"Paul,--was it your notion?"
But the other smiled and shook his head.
"Brilliant inspirations are not in my line, old chap. It was Mrs
Olliver. She and the Colonel did most of it between them, though we're
all implicated, of course; and I don't know when I've seen the Colonel
so keen about anything in his life."
"God bless you all!" Desmond muttered under his breath. "I'm bound to
win the Cup for you after this."
* * * * *
And now, as the final "chukker" of the tournament drew to a close, it
did indeed seem that the ambition of many years was on the eve of
fulfilment. Excitement rose higher every minute. Cheers rang out on
the smallest provocation. General sympathy was obviously with the
Frontier team, and the suspense of the little contingent from Kohat
had risen to a pitch beyond speech.
All the native officers and men who could get leave for the great
occasion formed a picturesque group in the forefront of the crowd;
Rajinder Singh towering in their midst, his face set like a mask; his
eyes fierce with the lust of victory. Evelyn Desmond, installed beside
Honor in a friend's dog-cart, sat with her small hands clenched, her
face flushed to the temples, disjointed murmurs breaking from her at
intervals. Honor sat very still and silent, gripping the iron bar of
the box-seat, her whole soul centred on the game. Paul Wyndham, who
had mounted the step on her side of the cart, and whose hand clasped
the bar within half an inch of hers, had not spoken since the ponies
last went out; and to all appearance his concentration equalled her
own. But her nearness affected him as the proximity of iron affects
the needle of a compass, deflecting his thoughts and eyes continually
from the central point of interest.
And what of Frank Olliver?
Her effervescent spirit can only be likened to champagne just before
the cork flies off. Perched upon the front seat of a drag, with
Colonel Buchanan, she noted every stroke and counter-stroke, every
point gained and lost, with the practised
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