Captain Webb's bored features lighted up with a faint amusement.

"O, Lor', you mustn't say that sort of thing to me, Miss Cary!" he said in
a subdued aside. "Superior officer, you know! If you want an index to my
feelings, study my countenance." He pretended to smother a gigantic yawn,
and Beatrice's cool, unchecked laughter broke the constraint.

Travers look around with a return of his old good-humor.

"Well," he said, "I have two votes against my plans, but, with due
respect to those two, who are, perhaps, unduly influenced by unfortunate
circumstances, I feel that it is only just that the others should be
given a voice in the matter. Do you agree, Colonel?"

Colonel Carmichael had by this time regained his placid, gentle manner.

"Certainly," he agreed, without hesitation.

"Hands up, then, for letting Rajah Nehal Singh go his way in peace!"

Three hands went up--Colonel Carmichael's, Stafford's and Lois'. Beatrice
glanced at the latter with a smile that expressed what it was meant to
express--a supercilious amusement. Her indifference was rapidly taking
another and more decided character.

"Hands up for drawing the bashful youth into Circe's circle!" called
Travers, now thoroughly elated. A forest of hands went up. Captain Webb
and his bosom comrade, Captain Saunders, who, for diplomatic reasons had
remained neutral, exchanged grins. "You see," Travers said, turning with
deferential politeness to the Colonel, "the day is against you."