nds. Is that the cavalry Desmond,
the V.C. chap, whose wife was shot by a brute of a Ghazi four years
ago?"

"Yes;--a hideous affair. Yet, in the face of his second marriage, one
can hardly call it a misfortune. It was one of those evils that had
far better happen to a man than not--that's a fact; and there are a
good many such on this amazing planet."

"Sounds a bit brutal, though, when the murder of a man's wife is in
question."

"Facts are apt to be brutal; even facts relating to the holy estate of
matrimony!" Lenox's tone had an edge to it, and Richardson somewhat
hastily shifted to another aspect of the subject.

"You are really intimate with these Desmonds,--both of them?"

"Yes. Both of them. I dine there about once a-week, just myself and
Desmond's inseparable pal, Wyndham, who is over there most days. You
must call at once. She is Colonel Meredith's sister, a magnificent
woman in every way."

"A miraculous one, I should say, to have dragged such an adjective out
of you!"

Lenox smiled. "No. Only one of the right sort. The sort that makes
fine sons. She has one already; splendid little chap. The three of
'em are off to Dalhousie early in May, and they have just persuaded me
to spend my two months there instead of beyond Kashmir. Mrs Desmond
has a misguided notion that I am knocking myself to bits over my work
in the interior."

"Deuced sensible woman!" laughed Richardson. "It'll give me the
greatest pleasure in life to shake hands with her."

"Come and do it to-morrow then. I'll go along with you."

While he talked Lenox had filled a long German pipe with a bowl of
generous dimensions. Now he set a match to it, and as the first blue
clouds curled upward a peculiarly aromatic fragrance filled the room.

"That stuff of yours is A1," Richardson remarked, with an appreciative
sniff. "Pretty costly, I suppose?"

"Yes. My one extravagance. A special brand that I get out from home,
a big batch at a time. Nothing like it for settling a man's nerves in
the small hours."

"Do you still sit up over that sort of thing till the small hours?"

"Yes, most nights. What moonshine are you bothering your head about
now?"

"Strikes me that sleeplessness of yours must be becoming serious. You
look several degrees less fit than you did a year ago, and that's
saying a good deal."

Lenox took his pipe from between his teeth, and regarded his subaltern
steadily for a few seconds.

"When I n