e he went and fell in love with her,
and she refused him."

"You've telegraphed to Tlemcen that Nevill is ill?" Stephen ventured.

"I've telegraphed to the creature that she'd better come here at once,
if she wants to see him alive," replied Lady MacGregor. "I suppose she
loves him in her French-Algerian way, and she must have saved up enough
money for the fare. Anyhow, if Nevill doesn't live, I happen to know
he's left her nearly everything, except what the poor boy imagines I
ought to have. That's pouring coals of fire on her head!"

"Don't think of his not living!" exclaimed Stephen.

"Honestly I believe he won't live unless that idiot of a girl comes and
purrs and promises to marry him, deathbed or no deathbed."

Again Stephen smiled faintly. "You're a matchmaker, Lady MacGregor," he
said. "You are one of the most subtle persons I ever saw."

The old lady took this as a compliment. "I haven't lived among Arabs,
goodness knows how many years, for nothing," she retorted. "I
telegraphed for her about five minutes after you wired from Azzouz. In
fact, my telegram went back by the boy who brought yours."

"She may be here day after to-morrow, if she started at once," Stephen
reflected aloud.

"She did, and she will," said Lady MacGregor, drily.

"You've heard?"

"The day I wired."

"You have quite a nice way of breaking things to people, you dear little
ladyship," said Stephen. And for some reason which he could not in the
least understand, this speech caused Nevill's aunt to break into tears.

That evening, the two surgeons extracted the bullet from Nevill's side.
Afterwards, he was extremely weak, and took as little interest as
possible in things, until Stephen was allowed to speak to him for a
moment.

Most men, if told that they had just sixty seconds to spend at the
bedside of a dear friend, would have been at a loss what to say in a
space of time so small yet valuable. But Stephen knew what he wished to
say, and said it, as soon as Nevill let him speak; but Nevill began
first.

"Maybe--going to--deserve name of Wings," he muttered. "Shouldn't
wonder. Don't care much."

"Is there any one thing in this world you want above everything else?"
asked Stephen.

"Yes. Sight of--Josette. One thing I--can't have."

"Yes, you can," said Stephen quietly. "She's coming. She started the
minute she heard you were ill, and she'll be in Touggourt day after
to-morrow."

"You're not--pulling my leg?"

"To do