Turning into Major Decies’ compound and riding up to his porch, the Colonel saw the object of his search, arrayed in pyjamas, seated in his long cane chair beside a tray of tea, toast, and fruit, in the verandah.

“Morning, de Warrenne,” he cried cheerily.

“How’s little—­” and caught sight of the inanimate child.

“Little coward’s fainted after throwing a fit—­over a common snake,” observed the Colonel coolly.

“Give him here,” answered the Major, taking the boy tenderly in his arms,—­“and kindly—­er—­clear out.”

He did not wish to strike his friend and senior.  How the black rage welled up in his heart against the callous brute who had dared to marry Lenore Seymour Stukeley.

Colonel de Warrenne wheeled his horse without a word, and rode out of Major Decies’ life and that of his son.

Galloping to the parade-ground he spoke a few curt words to his Adjutant, inspected the rissala, and then rode at its head to the brigade parade-ground where it took up its position on the left flank of the Guns and the Queen’s Greys, “sat at ease,” and awaited the arrival of the Chief Commissioner at the saluting-base.  A British Infantry regiment marched to the left flank of the 118th (Bombay) Lancers, left-turned and stood at ease.  Another followed and was followed in turn by Native Infantry Regiments—­grand Sikhs in scarlet tunics, baggy black breeches and blue putties; hefty Pathans and Baluchis in green tunics, crimson breeches and high white gaiters, sturdy little Gurkhas in rifle-green, stalwart Punjabi Mahommedans.

The great double line grew and grew, and stood patiently waiting, Horse, Foot, and Guns, facing the sun and a dense crowd of spectators ranked behind the rope-encircled, guard-surrounded saluting-base over which flew the Flag of England.

The Brigadier and his Staff rode on to the ground, were saluted by the mile of troops, and took up their position.

Followed the Chief Commissioner in his state carriage, accompanied by a very Distinguished Guest, and surrounded by his escort.  The mile of men again came to attention and the review began.  Guns boomed, massed bands played the National Anthem, the crackling rattle of the feu-de-joie ran up the front rank and down the rear.

After the inspection and the salutes came the march-past by the regiments.

Now the Distinguished Visitor’s wife had told the Chief Commissioner that she “did not want to see the cavalry go past at the gallop as it raised such a dreadful dust”.  But her maid bungled, her toilette failed, and she decided not to accompany her husband to the Review at all.  Her husband, the Distinguished Visitor, did desire to see the cavalry go past at the gallop, and so the Chief Commissioner’s Distinguished Visitor’s wife’s maid’s bungling had a tremendous influence upon the fate of Damocles de Warrenne, as will be seen.

Passed the massed Guns at the walk, followed by the Cavalry at the walk in column of squadrons and the Infantry in column of companies, each unit saluting the Chief Commissioner by turning “eyes right” as it passed the spot where he sat on horseback surrounded by the civil and military staffs.