through till now; but I was vexed at his
having sold Dick and poor Jim.'

'We knew we should find you here or hereabouts without that,' says Sir
Ferdinand.

'How was that?'

'Two jockey-boys met you one night at Calga gate; one of them recognised
Locket by the white patch on her neck. He wired to us at the next
station.'

'So you were right, after all, Dick. It was a mistake to take that mare.
I've always been confoundedly obstinate; I admit that. Too late to think
of it now, isn't it?'

'Anything else I can do?' says Sir Ferdinand.

'Give her this ring,' he pulls it off his finger, 'and you'll see Maddie
Barnes gets the old horse, won't you? Poor old Rainbow! I know she'll
take care of him; and a promise is a promise.'

'All right. He's the property of the Government now, you know; but I'll
square it somehow. The General won't object under the circumstances.'

Then he shuts his eyes for a bit. After a while he calls out--

'Dick! Dick Marston.'

'I'm here,' says I.

'If you ever leave this, tell Aileen that her name was the last word I
spoke--the very last. She foresaw this day; she told me so. I've had
a queer feeling too, this week back. Well, it's over now. I don't know
that I'm sorry, except for others. I say, Morringer, do you remember the
last pigeon match you and I shot in, at Hurlingham?'

'Why, good God!' says Sir Ferdinand, bending down, and looking into his
face. 'It can't be; yes, by Jove, it is----'

He spoke some name I couldn't catch, but Starlight put a finger on his
lips, and whispers--

'You won't tell, will you? Say you won't?'

The other nodded.

He smiled just like his old self.

'Poor Aileen!' he says, quite faint. His head fell back. Starlight was
dead!

Chapter 50

The breath was hardly out of him when a horse comes tearing through the
scrub on to the little plain, with a man on his back that seemed hurt
bad or drunk, he rolled in his saddle so. The head of him was bound up
with a white cloth, and what you could see of it was dark-looking, with
bloodstains on it. I knew the figure and the seat on a horse, though I
couldn't see his face. He didn't seem to have much strength, but he was
one of those sort of riders that can't fall off a horse, that is unless
they're dead. Even then you'd have to pull him down. I believe he'd hang
on somehow like a dead 'possum on a branch.

It was Warrigal!

They all knew him when he came close up, but none of the troopers rai