held out his hand.

Frank shook it heartily as he said gratefully:

"I've only you to thank for it, sir. It was ripping of you to let me
have first shot; and you gave me such a sitter that I couldn't miss.
Thank you awfully, Colonel."

Dermot gave a piercing whistle and stood waiting, while the overjoyed
subaltern walked round and round the dead bison, marvelling at its size
and exclaiming at his own good fortune.

When in a few minutes Badshah appeared, followed by the panting men,
Colonel Dermot sent the _mahout_ on his elephant to the stable to fetch
other men to cut up and bring in the bison. Then he and Wargrave on
Badshah made for the road to Ranga Duar.

It was dark long before they reached the little station. The Colonel
brought his companion in for a drink after the three thousand feet
climb, most of which they had done on foot. Mrs. Dermot met them in the
hall; and, after she had heard the result of the day's sport, warmly
congratulated Wargrave on his good luck. Loud whispers and a scuffle
over their heads attracted the attention of all three elders, and on
the broad wooden staircase they saw two small figures, one in pyjamas,
the other in a pretty, trailing nightdress daintily tied with blue bows,
looking imploringly down at their mother. She smiled and nodded. There
was a whirlwind rush down the stairs, and the mites were caught up in
their father's arms. Then Frank came in for his share of caresses from
them before they were sternly ordered back to bed again. And as he
passed out into the darkness he carried away with him an enchanting
picture of the charming babes climbing the stairs hand in hand and
turning to blow kisses to the tall man who stood below with a strong arm
around his pretty wife, gazing fondly up at his children.

And the picture stayed with him when, after dinner at which he was
congratulated by his brother officers, he went to his room and found a
letter overlooked in his rush to dress for Mess. It was from Violet, the
first that had come from her since his arrival in Ranga Duar. It
breathed passion and longing, discontent and despair, in every line. As
he laid his face on his arm to shut out the light where he sat at the
table he felt that he was nearer to loving the absent woman than he had
ever been. For the vision of the Dermots' married happiness, of the deep
affection linking husband and wife, of the children climbing the stair
and smiling back at their parents, came vividly