on, like flies. But a man in strong middle prime of age, like me,
knows his own mind; and--yes, on the whole I was unjust to Isaacs and to
Miss Westonhaugh. If a woman loved me, she should have all the tiger's
ears she wanted. "Still, I hope he will get back safely," I added, in
afterthought to my reverie, as I turned into bed and ordered Kiramat Ali
to wake me half an hour before dawn.

I was restless, sleeping a little and dreaming much. At last I struct a
light and looked at my watch. Four o'clock. It would not be dawn for
more than an hour; I knew Isaacs had made for the place where the tiger
passed his days, certain that he would return near daybreak, according
to all common probability. He need not have gone so early, I thought.
However, it might be a long way off. I lay still for a while, but it
seemed very hot and close under the canvas. I got up and threw a
_caftan_ round me, drew a chair into the _connat_ and sat, or rather
lay, down in the cool morning breeze. Then I dozed again until Kiramat
Ali woke me by pulling at my foot. He said it would be dawn in half an
hour. I had passed a bad night, and went out, as I was, to walk on the
grass. There was Miss Westonhaugh's tent away off at the other end. She
was sleeping calmly enough, never doubting that at that very moment the
man who loved her was risking his life for her pleasure--her slightest
whim. She would be wide awake if she knew it, staring out into the
darkness and listening for the crack of his rifle. A faint light
appeared behind the dining-tent, over the distant trees, like the light
of London seen from twenty or thirty miles' distance in the country, a
faint, suggestive, murky grayness in the sky, making the stars look
dimmer.

The sound of a shot rang true and clear through the chill air; not far
off I thought. I held my breath, listening for a second report, but none
came. So it was over. Either he had killed the tiger with his first
bullet, or the tiger had killed him before he could fire a second. I was
intensely excited. If he were safe I wished him to have the glory of
coming home quite alone. There was nothing for it but to wait, so I went
into my tent and took a bath--a very simple operation where the bathing
consists in pouring a huge jar of water over one's head. Tents in India
have always a small side tent with a ditch dug to drain off the water
from the copious ablutions of the inmate. I emerged into the room
feeling better. It was now