“What is the matter?” he asked.

“Hush!” said Sybil, but at that moment Dick lifted his head, recognised the visitor, and came forward to the window with a smile of welcome.  There was no embarrassment in his manner, no air of being surprised.  He had not the look of one who nurses secrets.  A broad open forehead surmounted a pair of steady clear grey eyes.

“Well, Dick, I hear you have done well in your examination,” said the Colonel, as he shook hands.  “If you keep it up I will leave you all I save out of my pension.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Dick with a laugh.  “How long have you been back, Colonel Dewes?”

“I left India a fortnight ago.”

“A fortnight ago.”  Dick leaned his arms upon the sill and with his eyes on the Colonel’s face asked quietly:  “How far does the Road reach now?”

At the side of Colonel Dewes Sybil Linforth flinched as though she had been struck.  But it did not need that movement to explain to the Colonel the perplexing problem of her fears.  He understood now.  The Linforths belonged to the Road.  The Road had slain her husband.  No wonder she lived in terror lest it should claim her son.  And apparently it did claim him.

“The road through Chiltistan?” he said slowly.

“Of course,” answered Dick.  “Of what other could I be thinking?”

“They have stopped it,” said the Colonel, and at his side he was aware that Sybil Linforth drew a deep breath.  “The road reaches Kohara.  It does not go beyond.  It will not go beyond.”

Dick’s eyes steadily looked into the Colonel’s face; and the Colonel had some trouble to meet their look with the same frankness.  He turned aside and Mrs. Linforth said,

“Come and see my roses.”

Dick went back to his book.  The man and woman passed on round the corner of the house to a little rose-garden with a stone sun-dial in the middle, surrounded by low red brick walls.  Here it was very quiet.  Only the bees among the flowers filled the air with a pleasant murmur.

“They are doing well—­your roses,” said Dewes.

“Yes.  These Queen Mabs are good.  Don’t you think so?  I am rather proud of them,” said Sybil; and then she broke off suddenly and faced him.

“Is it true?” she whispered in a low passionate voice.  “Is the road stopped?  Will it not go beyond Kohara?”

Colonel Dewes attempted no evasion with Mrs. Linforth.

“It is true that it is stopped.  It is also true that for the moment there is no intention to carry it further.  But—­but—­”

And as he paused Sybil took up the sentence.

“But it will go on, I know.  Sooner or later.”  And there was almost a note of hopelessness in her voice.  “The Power of the Road is beyond the Power of Governments,” she added with the air of one quoting a sentence.

They walked on between the alleys of rose-trees and she asked: 

“Did you notice the book which Dick was reading?”