us walk back to Farabad, and we might start on foot
along the lower road for Kundaghat, and tell your man to overtake us."

Notwithstanding the resolution she infused into her voice, she made the
proposal somewhat breathlessly, for she knew--in her heart she
knew--that it would be instantly negatived.

And so it was. His face expressed sharp surprise for a second,
developing into prompt remonstrance.

"My dear Mrs. Denvers, in this heat! You have not the least idea of what
it would mean. You simply have not the strength for such a venture."

But Beryl was growing bolder in the face of emergency. She coolly set
his assurance aside.

"I do not quite agree with you," she said. "I am a better walker than
you seem to imagine, and the walk into Farabad certainly would not kill
me. We might be able to hire some conveyance there--a _tonga_ or even a
bullock-cart"--she laughed a little--"would be better than nothing."

But Fletcher persistently shook his head.

"I am sorry--horribly sorry, but it would be downright madness to
attempt it."

"Nevertheless," said Beryl very quietly, "I mean to do so."

She saw his brows meet for a single instant, and she was conscious of a
sick feeling at her heart that made her physically cold. Doubt was
emerging into deadly conviction.

Suddenly he leaned towards her, and spoke very earnestly.

"Mrs. Denvers, please believe that I regret this mischance every whit as
much as you do. But, after all, it is only a mischance, and we may be
thankful it was no worse. Shall we not treat it as such, and make the
best of it?"

He was looking her straight in the face as he said it, but, steady as
was his gaze, she was not reassured. Quick as lightning came the
thought--it was almost like an inner voice warning her--that he must not
suspect the fact. Whatever happened she must veil her uneasiness, which
she feared had been already far too obvious.

Quietly she rose and expressed her willingness to go with him into the
shade of the trees.

They stood grouped on the side of a hill, a thick belt through which the
scorching sun-rays slanted obliquely, turning the straight brown trunks
to ruddiest gold. There was more air here than in the valley, and it was
a relief to sit down in the shade and rest upon a fallen tree.

Fletcher threw himself down upon the ground. "We can watch the road from
here," he remarked. "We should see the dog-cart about a mile away."

This was true. Barren, stony, and d