lever and good-hearted. And, little though Violet cared for her
own sex, as a rule, surely in Mrs. Dermot she would find a friend. This
happy wife, this loving mother, was so sweet and sympathetic that she
would win the older woman's liking, while the two delightful children
would take her heart by storm. Poor, lonely Violet, so beautiful, so
ill-fated! Frank sighed as he took up her portrait and kissed it.

When he extinguished the lamp and lay down in bed it was pleasant, after
the heat in Rohar, to find it so cool that he was obliged to pull a
blanket over him. Only those who have endured the torment of hot nights
in the tropics can appreciate his thankfulness as in the silence broken
only by the monotonous cry of the nightjars he drowsed contentedly to
sleep. Already he was reconciled to Ranga Duar.

CHAPTER VII

IN THE TERAI JUNGLE

In the pleasant light of the morning the little outpost looked as
charming to Wargrave as it had done on the previous evening. Above Ranga
Duar the mountains towered to the pale blue sky, while below it the
foot-hills fell in steps to the broad sea of foliage of the great forest
stretching away to the distant plains seen vaguely through the haze. The
horse-shoe hollow in which the tiny station was set was bowered in
vegetation. The gardens glowed with the varied hues of flowers, and were
bounded by hedges of wild roses. The road and paths were bordered by the
tall, graceful plumes of the bamboo and shaded by giant mango and banyan
trees, their boughs clothed with orchids.

Frank had noticed the previous day that the Fort, barracks and bungalows
were all newly built, and he learned that during the great war which had
raged along the frontiers of India five years before, the post had been
fiercely attacked by an army of Chinese and Bhutanese and the little
station practically wiped out of existence, although victory had finally
rested with the few survivors of the garrison.

From the first the subaltern took a great liking to the tall Punjaubi
Mahommedan and hook-nosed, fair-skinned Pathan native officers and
sepoys of the detachment. The work was light and scarcely required two
British officers; and Frank soon found that Major Hunt, who seemed
driven by a demon of quiet energy, preferred to do most of it himself.
Frank got the impression that to the elder man occupation was an anodyne
for some secret sorrow. Although the subaltern had no wish to shirk his
duty he could not