I believe."

"Bengal. What? Anywhere near Calcutta?"

"No; it must be somewhere up on the frontier. Otherwise they wouldn't
send Military Police to garrison it."

"But what is it like? Is it a big station?" she persisted.

"I can't tell you. But it's sure not to be. No; it must be a small place
up in the hills or in the jungle. There's only a detachment there."

"But what have I got to do with your being sent there?" she asked in
perplexity.

"Don't you understand? Someone's been making mischief," he replied.
"Those two vile-minded women have been talking scandal of us to the
Colonel."

"What? Talking about you and me? Oh!" she exclaimed.

His words brought home to her the fact that these bitter-tongued women
whom she despised had dared to assail her--her, the _Burra Mem_, the
Great Lady of their little world. Had dared to? She could not silence
them. And what would they say of her, how their tongues would wag, if
she ran away from her husband! And they would have a right to talk
scandal of her then. The thought made her pause.

"But how could I go with you to this place in Bengal? Where could I
live?" she asked.

"You'd live with me."

"Oh! In your bungalow? How could I? And how would I get there?" she
continued. "I haven't any money. I don't suppose I've got a ten-rupee
note. And I couldn't ask my husband."

"Of course not. I would----" He paused. "By Jove! I never thought of
that." It had not occurred to him that elopements must be carried out on
a cash basis. He had forgotten that money was necessary. And he had
none. He was heavily in debt. The local _shroffs_--the native
money-lenders--would give him no more credit when they knew that he was
going away. All that he would have would be the one month's advance of
pay--probably not enough for Violet's fare and expenses across
India--the Government provided his--and certainly not enough to support
them for long. He frowned in perplexity. Running away with another man's
wife did not seem so easy after all.

Violet was the first to recover her normal calm.

"Sit down and let us talk quietly," she said. "One of the servants may
come in. Or my husband--if people are talking scandal of us."

She touched the switch of an overhead electric fan--the Government of
India housed its Political Officer in Rohar much more luxuriously than
the military ones--and sat down under it. Wargrave began to pace the
room impatiently.

"Come, Frank, stop walking about lik