re _is_ a mistake somewhere." I repeated, "a hideous mistake.
Come and look at It!"

I have an indistinct idea that I dragged Kitty by the wrist along the
road up to where It stood, and implored her for pity's sake to speak to
it; to tell It that we were betrothed! that neither Death nor Hell could
break the tie between us; and Kitty only knows how much more to the same
effect. Now and again I appealed passionately to the Terror in the
'rickshaw to bear witness to all I had said, and to release me from a
torture that was killing me. As I talked I suppose I must have told
Kitty of my old relations with Mrs. Wessington, for I saw her listen
intently with white face and blazing eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Pansay," she said, "that's _quite_ enough. Bring my
horse."

The grooms, impassive as Orientals always are, had come up with the
recaptured horses; and as Kitty sprang into her saddle I caught hold of
the bridle entreating her to hear me out and forgive. My answer was the
cut of her riding-whip across my face from mouth to eye, and a word or
two of farewell that even now I cannot write down. So I judged, and
judged rightly, that Kitty knew all; and I staggered back to the side of
the 'rickshaw. My face was cut and bleeding, and the blow of the
riding-whip had raised a livid blue weal on it. I had no self-respect.
Just then, Heatherlegh, who must have been following Kitty and me at a
distance, cantered up.

"Doctor," I said, pointing to my face, "here's Miss Mannering's
signature to my order of dismissal and . . . I'll thank you for that
lakh as soon as convenient."

Heatherlegh's face, even in my abject misery, moved me to laugh.

"I'll stake my professional reputation"--he began. "Don't be a fool,"
I whispered. "I've lost my life's happiness and you'd better take me
home."

As I spoke the 'rickshaw was gone. Then I lost all knowledge of what was
passing. The crest of Jakko seemed to heave and roll like the crest of a
cloud and fall in upon me.

Seven days later (on the 7th of May, that is to say) I was aware that
I was lying in Heatherlegh's room as weak as a little child. Heatherlegh
was watching me intently from behind the papers on his writing table.
His first words were not very encouraging; but I was too far spent to
be much moved by them.

"Here's Miss Kitty has sent back your letters. You corresponded a good
deal, you young people. Here's a packet that looks like a ring, and a
cheerful sort of a note from M