t at the tip winked like a mocking eye.

"Theo," she said suddenly in an awe-struck undertone, "do you know what
I was dreaming when you woke me? I dreamt that you were fighting with
Afridis,--ever so many of them,--and you were all alone. I thought
they were going to--kill you every minute. They were running after
you----"

Here Desmond dispelled the tragic vision with a shout of laughter.

"They'll never get the chance to do _that_, Ladybird, so long as I
have the use of my bare hands, let alone my sword!"

"But, Theo, just think, if you were all alone, and you were bound to
get killed if you stayed, and there was me at home praying to get you
back safe; wouldn't you be allowed to run away--even then?"

Desmond smiled; but he did not answer at once. The ludicrous
suggestion, with its unconscious touch of pathos, hurt him more than
he cared to acknowledge.

"It isn't a case of being allowed," he said. "I should never be left
quite alone like that; and anyway, they don't lay down a code of
morals for us in the Queen's Regulations. It is understood that a
British officer will play the man, even in desperate straits."

She knitted her brows wistfully. "Yes, of course. Only--it seems
rather hard on--the wives and mothers."

"You never said a truer word, little woman. That's why they need to
have such good grit in them,--don't you see?"

"Yes--I see. But mayn't you just get out of the way of a bullet if you
happen to see it coming?"

Desmond shook his head.

"One generally happens to feel it before one gets a chance of seeing
it," he said. "But now, let's have done with nonsense. Buckle on my
sword and we'll go to breakfast. The whole house is astir."

She set the leathern belt round his waist, and tried to fasten it; but
her fingers trembled in spite of herself, and a mist blinded her eyes.
He took the heavy strap from her very gently, and fastened it himself.

"You won't change and ride out a little way with us as the others mean
to?" he asked.

"N--no; I couldn't. I don't want to make you ashamed of me, Theo."

For answer he held out his arms; and there was a long silence in the
dimly lighted room.

Then he led her to the door of their room, and himself went out to the
breakfast-table with a brisk elasticity of tread. He would not have
been the man he was, if even the pang of parting could altogether
quench his ardour to be gone.

In the dining-room he found Honor ready equipped for the start. She
l