uld only console himself for having been
cleverly led and driven into doing the thing he did not want to do, by
the facts that the girl was interesting and clever and had a good deal
of odd un-English beauty.

It was a beauty so un-English that it would perhaps appear to its
greatest advantage in the contrasts afforded by life in England. She was
so dark, of heavy hair and drooping-lidded eyes and fine grained skin,
and so sinuous of lithe, slim body, that among native beauties she
seemed not to be sufficiently separated by marks of race. She had
tumbled up from childhood among native servants, who were almost her
sole companions, and who had taught her curious things. She knew their
stories and songs, and believed in more of their occult beliefs than any
but herself knew.

She knew things which made her interesting to Alec Osborn, who had a
bullet head and a cruel lower jaw, despite a degree of the ordinary good
looks. The fact that his chances were good for becoming Marquis of
Walderhurst and taking her home to a life of English luxury and
splendour was a thing she never forgot. It haunted her in her sleep. She
had often dreamed of Oswyth Castle and of standing amidst great people
on the broad lawns her husband had described feelingly during tropical
days when they had sat together panting for breath. When there had been
mention made of the remote, awful possibility that Walderhurst might
surrender to the siege laid to him, she had turned sick at the thought.
It made her clench her hands until the nails almost pressed into the
skin of her palms. She could not bear it. She had made Osborn burst into
a big, harsh laugh one day when she had hinted to him that there were
occult things to be done which might prevent ill luck. He had laughed
first and scowled afterwards, cynically saying that she might as well be
working them up.

He had not come out to India followed by regrets and affection. He had
been a black sheep at home, and had rather been hustled away than
otherwise. If he had been a more admirable kind of fellow, Walderhurst
would certainly have made him an allowance; but his manner of life had
been such as the Marquis had no patience with in men of any class, and
especially abhorred in men whom the accident of birth connected with
good names. He had not been lavish in his demonstrations of interest in
the bullet-headed young man. Osborn's personableness was not of a kind
attractive to the unbiassed male observ