e the two men watched him devour it.

"That seems all right, Major," said the police officer. "You've made him
your friend for life. He's coming back for more."

The crow perched on the rail again and cawed loudly.

"Oh, shut up, you greedy bird. Here's another bit for you. That's all
you'll have. I want the rest myself," said Dermot, laughing. He broke off
another piece and threw it out on to the balcony.

The crow looked at it, ruffled its feathers, shook itself--and then fell
heavily to the floor of the balcony and lay still.

"Good heavens! What an escape!" ejaculated Barclay, suddenly pale.

The two men stared at each other and the dead bird in silence. Then Dermot
murmured:

"This is getting monotonous. Hang it! They _are_ in a hurry. Why, they
couldn't even know whether I was alive or not. If the snake trick had come
off, I'd be a corpse now and this nice little meal would have been wasted.
Really, they are rather crowding things on me."

"They're taking no chances, the devils," said the younger man, who was more
upset by the occurrence than his companion.

"Well, I'll have to do without my _chota hazri_; and I do like a cup of tea
in the morning," said the soldier; and he began to shave. Glancing out of
the window he continued: "They've got a fine day for the show anyway."

Barclay sprang up from the chair on which he had suddenly sat down. His
nerve was shaken by the two attempts on his companion's life.

"Damn them and their shows, the infernal murderers," he muttered savagely,
and rushed out of the room.

"Amen!" said Dermot, as he lathered his face. Death had been near him too
often before for him to be disturbed now. So he went on shaving.

Before he left the room he poured tea into the cup on the tray and got rid
of the rest of the toast, to make it appear that he had freely partaken of
the meal. He wrapped up the dead crow in paper and locked it in his
despatch-case, until he could dispose of it that evening after dark.

Noreen had slept little during the night. All through the weary hours of
darkness she had tossed restlessly on her bed, tortured by thoughts that
revolved in monotonous circles around Dermot. What was she to believe of
him? What were the relations between him and her friend? He had seemed very
cold to Ida when they met and had avoided her all day. And she did not
appear to mind. What had happened between them? Had they quarrelled? It did
not disturb Ida's rest, for the girl