ondon suburb.

Every time that the Major met Daleham he expected to be told of Noreen's
engagement, perhaps even her wedding. But he heard nothing. When he
found that Fred was beginning to arrange for her return to Malpura and
that--instigated by Chunerbutty--he refused to consider the advisability
of her remaining away until conditions were better in the Terai, Dermot
persuaded him to replace his untrustworthy Bengali house-servants by
reliable Mussulman domestics, warlike Punjaubis, whom the soldier
procured. They were men not unused to firearms, and capable of defending
the bungalow if necessary.

He and Badshah, who was happy to have his man with him again, kept
indefatigable watch and ward along the frontier. Sometimes Dermot assembled
the herd, which had learned to obey him almost like a pack of hounds, and,
concealed among them, penetrated across the border into Bhutan and explored
hidden spots where hostile troops might be concentrated. Only rarely a
wandering Bhuttia chanced to see him, and then the terrified man would veil
his eyes, fearing to behold the doings of the terrible Elephant God.

The constant work and preoccupation kept Dermot from dwelling much on
Noreen. Nevertheless, he thought often of the girl and hoped that she would
be happy when she married the man she was said to have chosen. He felt no
jealousy of Charlesworth; on the contrary, he admired him as a good
sportsman and a manly fellow, as well as he could judge from the little
that he had seen of him. The very fact that the girl who was his friend had
chosen the Rifleman as her husband, according to Mrs. Smith, made him ready
to like the man. He was not in love with the girl and had no desire to
marry, for he was wedded to his profession and had always held that a
soldier married was a soldier marred.

Thus while Dermot thought far seldomer of Noreen, whom he acknowledged to
himself he liked more than any other woman he had ever met, she, who
assured herself every day that she hated and despised him, could not keep
him out of her mind. And all the more so as she began to have doubts of the
truth of Ida's story. For the girl, who could not resist watching her
friend's post every day, much as she despised herself for doing it,
observed that no letter ever came to Mrs. Smith in Dermot's handwriting.
And, although Ida had talked much and sentimentally of him for days after
his departure, she appeared to forget him soon, and before long was
eng