Ralston turned away.  “None whatever, my young porcupine.  Have mercy on your nag, that’s all—­and don’t break your own neck!”

Tommy strode wrathfully away to the sound of Mrs. Burton’s tittering laugh.  With the exception of Mrs. Ralston, who really did not count, he hated every one of the party that he left behind on the Club verandah, and he did not attempt to disguise the fact.

But when an hour later he rolled off his horse in the compound of the policeman’s bungalow at Khanmulla, his mood had undergone a complete change.  There was nothing defiant or even assertive about him as he applied for admittance.  He looked beaten, tried beyond his strength.

It was growing rapidly dark as he followed Barnes’s khansama into the long bare room which he used as his private office.  The man brought him a lamp and told him that the sahibs would be back soon.  They had gone down to the Court House again, but they might return at any time.

He also brought him whisky and soda which Tommy did not touch, spending the interval of waiting that ensued in fevered tramping to and fro.

He had not seen Monck alone since the evening of Tessa’s birthday-party nearly three weeks before.  On the score of business connected with the approaching trial, Monck had come to Khanmulla immediately afterwards, and no one at Kurrumpore had had more than an occasional glimpse of him since.  But he meant to see him alone now, and he had given very explicit instructions to that effect to the servant, accompanied by a substantial species of persuasion that could not fail to achieve its object.

When the sound of voices told him at last of the return of the two men, he drew back out of sight of the window while the obsequious khansama went forth upon his errand.  Then a moment or two later he heard them separate, and one alone came in his direction.  Everard entered with the gait of a tired man.

The lamp dazzled him for a second, and Tommy saw him first.  He smothered an involuntary exclamation and stepped forward.

“Tommy!” said Monck, as if incredulous.

Tommy stood in front of him, his hands at his sides.  “Yes, it’s me.  I had to come over—­just to have a look at you.  Ralston said—­said—­oh, damn it, it doesn’t matter what he said.  Only I had to—­just come and see for myself.  You see, I—­I—­” he faltered badly, but recovered himself under the straight gaze of Everard’s eyes—­“I can’t get the thought of you out of my mind.  I’ve been a damn’ cur.  You won’t want to speak to me of course, but when Ralston started jawing about you this afternoon, I found—­I found—­” he choked suddenly—­“I couldn’t stand it any longer,” he said in a strangled whisper.

Monck was looking full at him by the merciless glare of the lamp on the table, which revealed himself very fully also.  All the grim lines in his face seemed to be accentuated.  He looked years older.  The hair above his temples gleamed silver where it caught the light.