rossed in a good-looking young civilian from Calcutta. Bain had long
since left Darjeeling.

Could it all have been a figment of the woman's imagination and
vanity?--for Noreen now realised how colossally vain she was. Had she
misunderstood or, worse still, misrepresented him? But that thought was
almost more painful to the girl than the certainty of his guilt. For if
it were true, how cruelly, how vilely unjust she had been to the man who
had saved her at the peril of his life, the man who had called her his
friend, who had trusted in her loyalty! No, no; better that he were
proved worthless, dishonourable. That thought were easier to bear.

Sometimes the girl almost wished that she could see him again so that she
might ask him the truth. She could learn nothing now from Ida, who calmly
ignored all attempts to extract information from her. Yet how could she
question him, Noreen asked herself. She could not even hint to him that she
had any knowledge of the affair, for her friend had divulged it to her in
confidence. If only she were back at Malpura! He might come to her again
there and perhaps of his own free will tell her what to believe of him. But
when in a letter she broached the subject of her return to her brother,
Fred bade her wait, for he hoped that he might be able to join her in
Darjeeling for a few days during the Puja holidays.

During the great festival of Durga-Puja, or the Dussera, as it is variously
called, no Hindu works if he can help it, especially in Bengal. As all
Government and private offices in Calcutta are closed for it, every
European there, who can, escapes to Darjeeling, twenty-four hours away by
rail, and the Season in that hill-station dies in a final blaze of
splendour and gaiety in the mad rush of revelry of the Puja holidays. And
Fred hoped that he might he there to see its ending, if Parry would keep
sober long enough to let his assistant get away for a few days. When he
returned, Daleham wrote, he would bring Noreen back with him.

Dermot's activities on the frontier were not passing unmarked by the chief
conspirators in Lalpuri. His measures against their messengers focussed
attention on him. The _Dewan_, a far better judge of men and things than
Chunerbutty, did not make the mistake of despising him merely because he
was a soldier. The old man realised that it was not wise to count British
officers fools. He knew too well how efficient the Indian Military
Intelligence Department