the sake of reward.

A sense of uneasiness began to possess her, and she started at last upon
her downward way, feeling as if the place were haunted.

With relief she reached the road at length, and commenced the last stage
of the return journey. The heat was terrific. She was intensely weary,
and beginning to be footsore. At a turn in the road she paused a moment,
looking back at the pine-clad hill from which she had come; and as she
did so, distinct, though far away behind her, there floated through the
midday silence the curious note of a jay. It sounded to her bewildered
senses like a cracked, discordant laugh.

VIII

On the following afternoon Major Fletcher called, but he was not
admitted. Beryl was receiving no one that day, and sent him an
uncompromising message to that effect. He lingered to inquire after her
health, and, on being told that she had overtired herself and was
resting, expressed his polite regret and withdrew.

After that, somewhat to Beryl's surprise, he came no more to the
bungalow.

She remained in seclusion for several days after her adventure, so that
fully a week passed before they met.

It was while out riding one morning with Mrs. Ellis that she first
encountered him. The meeting was unexpected, and, conscious of a sudden
rush of blood to her cheeks, she bestowed upon him her haughtiest bow.
His grave acknowledgment thereof was wholly without effrontery, and he
made no attempt to speak to her.

"Have you quarrelled with the Major?" asked Nina, as they rode on.

"Of course not," Beryl answered, with a hint of impatience.

But she knew that if she wished to appear at her ease she must not be
too icy. She felt a very decided reluctance to take her friend into her
confidence with regard to the Farabad episode. There were times when she
wondered herself if she were altogether justified in condemning Major
Fletcher unheard, in spite of the evidence against him. But she had no
intention of giving him an opportunity to vindicate himself if she could
possibly avoid doing so.

In this, however, circumstances proved too strong for her. They were
bound to meet sooner or later, and Fate ordained that when this should
occur she should be more or less at his mercy.

The occasion was an affair of some importance, being a reception at the
palace of the native prince who dwelt at Farabad. It promised to be a
function of supreme magnificence; it was, in fact, the chief event of
the sea