aptain Ballantyne," he said, "for I have only
with me what I want for the night in the train."

"Of course. That's all right," Ballantyne replied with a great
cordiality. He turned towards Stella. "Mr. Thresk, this is my wife."

Now she had to turn. She held out her right hand but she still covered
her throat with her left. She gave no sign of recognition and she did not
look at her visitor.

"How do you do, Mr. Thresk?" she said, and went on quickly, allowing him
no time for a reply. "We are in camp, you see. You must just take us as
we are. Stephen did not tell me till a minute ago that he expected a
visitor. You have not too much time. I will see that dinner is served at
once." She went quickly to one of the grass-screens and lifting it
vanished from his view. It seemed to Thresk that she had just seized upon
an excuse to get away. Why? he asked himself. She was nervous and
distressed, and in her distress she had accepted without surprise
Thresk's introduction to her as a stranger. To that relationship then he
and she were bound for the rest of his stay in the Resident's camp.

Mrs. Repton had been wrong when she had attributed Thresk's request for
a formal introduction to Ballantyne to a plan already matured in his
mind. He had no plan, although he formed one before that dinner was at an
end. He had asked for the letter because he wished faithfully to follow
her advice and see for himself. If he called upon Stella he would find
her alone; the mere sending in of his name would put her on her guard; he
would see nothing. She would take care of that. He had no wish to make
Ballantyne's acquaintance as Mrs. Ballantyne's friend. He could claim
that friendship afterwards. Now however Stella herself in her confusion
had made the claim impossible. She had fled--there was no other word
which could truthfully describe her swift movement to the screen.

Ballantyne however had clearly not been surprised by it.

"It was a piece of luck for me that I camped here yesterday and
telegraphed for my letters," he said. "You mentioned in your note that
you had only twenty-four hours to give to Chitipur, didn't you? So I was
sure that you would be upon this train."

He spoke with a slow precision in a voice which he was careful--or so it
struck Thresk--to keep suave and low; and as he spoke he moved towards
the dinner-table and came within the round pool of light. Thresk had a
clear view of him. He was a man of a gross and powerful