led iron tea-things, and the men's guns.

Notwithstanding the absence of the Kresneys, Evelyn Desmond was in a
mood of unusual effervescence. Harry Denvil rode at her side, and the
two kept up a perpetual flow of such aimless, happy nonsense as is apt
to engender vague regret in the hearts of those who have arrived at
greater wisdom.

Three miles of riding brought them to the welcome refreshment of a
river running crystal clear over a bed of pebbles. Beside the river
rose an isolated plateau--abrupt, inconsequent, and, like all things
else in the tawny landscape, unsoftened by a blade of living green.

The face of the rock was riddled with rough, irregular holes, as
though Titans had been using it for a target. Around and above it a
bevy of blue rock-pigeons--circling, dipping, and darting with a
strong rush of wings--shone like iridescent jewels, green and blue and
grey, against the unstained turquoise of the sky, whose intensity of
colour made generous atonement for the lack of it on earth. At the
foot of the cliff a deep pool mirrored the calm wonder of the sky.

Here the camel was brought to his knees, and the escort, dismounting,
formed a wide circle of sentries round the little party, the undernote
of danger suggested by their presence giving a distinct flavour to the
childishly simple affair. The white man's craze for carrying his food
many miles from home, in order to eat it on the ground, remains a
perpetual bewilderment to the natives, who express their opinion on
the matter in all frankness and simplicity by christening it the
"dinner of fools."

Pigeon-shooting was the established amusement of afternoons spent
under the cliff; and, the meal being over, sport was soon in full
progress, Frank Olliver and Mrs Jim Conolly handling their guns as
skilfully as any man present.

While Honor stood watching them, Wyndham drew near and remained by her
for a few seconds without a word. Then: "Shall we go and sit over by
the river, Miss Meredith, and leave them to their sport?" he asked
suddenly, his eyes and voice more urgent than he knew.

"Yes; I'd far rather watch the birds than shoot them. They are too
beautiful to be killed for the sake of passing the time. But you
probably don't see it that way--men seldom do."

"I must be the eternal exception, then!" he answered, as they turned
away. "It's not a creditable confession for a right-minded man: but I
shrink from taking life, even in the exigencies of my pro