he raw-boned old Scotsman leaned heavily back in his chair.

His bony hands were thin and claw-like, his bushy white beard and
eyebrows gave him a "service" aspect, while his cold blue eye gleamed
out pale and menacing as the Pole star on wintry arctic seas. His broad
chest was sunken, his tall form was bent, and a visible air of dejection
and unrest had replaced the sturdy vigor of his early manhood. He was
sipping a glass of pale ale in silence when Hawke neatly applied the
lance once more. "It must be a great change for you to leave India,
Johnstone, but you need rest, and a general shaking up. You have a good
deal to leave here. I suppose your nephew--"

"He's a good lad, but a stranger to me, Hawke," broke in the host. "The
fact is, I am as yet undecided. I go home for my daughter's sake; it's
no place for her out here," he sternly said. "You know what Indian life
is?"

Hawke bowed, and mutely cried, "Peccavi." He had been a part of it. "I'm
waiting for the action of the Government. This Baronetcy. I must talk
with you about it. I might have had the Star of India. You see, it's an
empty honor. And I hate to break away for good, after all. Do you know
anything from Anstruther? He was up here, you know."

"I have him now!" secretly exulted Hawke, as he said gravely, "You know
what duty is, I cannot speak as yet, but you can depend on me as soon as
my honor will permit--"

"Yes, yes, I know," said Hugh Johnstone, with a sigh, rising from the
table. "You must make yourself at home here. In fact, I am thinking of
sending my daughter back to Europe. Douglas Fraser can have them well
bestowed; that is, if I have to remain and fight out this Baronetcy
affair, then I could put you up here." Alan Hawke bowed his thanks.

They had wandered back to the reception-room. With an affected surprise
the Major consulted his watch. "By Jove! I've got a heavy official
mail to prepare, and I'm to dine to-day with Harry Hardwicke, of the
Engineers. General Willoughby wants a private conference with me, and
Hardwicke is the only confidential man he has. He gets his Majority
soon, and Willoughby will lose him on promotion. A fine fellow and a
rising man."

"See here, Hawke! Come in to-morrow and dine with me at seven. I want to
have a long talk with you," said the uneasy host.

"You may absolutely depend on me, Sir Hugh," heartily answered the
visitor, with a fine forgetfulness as to the title. When he rode away,
Major Hawke caugh