lofty hall, where an Indian servant in a long red coat hurried to open
the door of the dining-room for her.

Almost at that moment a mile away Raymond, the adjutant of the 180th
Punjaub Infantry, looked at his watch and called out loudly:

"Hurry up, Wargrave; it's four o'clock and the ponies will be round in
ten minutes. And it's a long ride to the Palace."

He was seated at a table on the verandah of the bungalow which he
shared with his brother subaltern in the small military cantonment near
Rohar, the capital of the Native State of Mandha in the west of India.
Dawn had not yet come; and by the light of an oil lamp Raymond was
eating a frugal breakfast of tea, toast and fruit, the _chota hazri_ or
light meal with which Europeans in the East begin the day. He was
dressed in an old shooting-jacket, breeches and boots; and as he ate his
eyes turned frequently to a bundle of steel-headed bamboo spears leaning
against the wall near him. For he and his companion were going as the
guests of the Maharajah of Mandha for a day's pigsticking, as hunting
the wild boar is termed in India.

He had finished his meal and lit a cheroot before Wargrave came yawning
on to the verandah.

"Sorry for being so lazy, old chap," said the newcomer. "But a year's
leave in England gets one out of the habit of early rising."

He pulled up a chair to the table on which his white-clad Mussulman
servant, who had come up the front steps of the verandah, laid a tray
with his tea and toast. And while he ate Raymond lay back smoking in a