“Wherever Stella goes, I go,” said Bernard firmly.

“Yes, that’s understood.”  Ralston gave him a keen look.  “You’re in charge, aren’t you?  But those who can go, must go, that’s certain.  That scoundrel will be convicted in a day or two.  And then—­look out for squalls!”

Bernard’s smile was scarcely the smile of the man of peace.  “Oh yes, I shall look out,” he said mildly.  “And—­incidentally—­Tommy is teaching me how to shoot.”

They returned to Tessa who was still sleeping, and Mrs. Ralston gave up her place beside her to Bernard, who settled down with a paper to spend the afternoon.  Major Ralston departed for The Green Bungalow, and the silence of midday fell upon the place.

It was still early in the year, but the warmth was as that of a soft summer day in England.  The lazy drone of bees hung on the air, and somewhere among the tamarisks a small, persistent bird, called and called perpetually, receiving no reply.

“A fine example of perseverance,” Bernard murmured to himself.

He had plenty of things to think about—­to worry about also, had it been his disposition to worry; but the utter peace that surrounded him made him drowsy.  He nodded uncomfortably for a space, then finally—­since he seldom did things by halves—­laid aside his paper, leaned back in his chair, and serenely slept.

Twice during the afternoon Mrs. Ralston tiptoed along the verandah, peeped in upon them, and retired again smiling.  On the second occasion she met her husband on the same errand and he drew her aside, his hand through her arm.

“Look here, Mary!  I’ve talked to that little spitfire without much result.  She talks in a random fashion of going to Udalkhand.  What her actual intentions are I don’t know.  Possibly she doesn’t know herself.  But one thing is certain.  She is not going to be attached to your train any longer, and I have told her so.”

“Oh, Gerald!” She looked at him in dismay.  “How—­inhospitable of you!”

“Yes, isn’t it?” His hand was holding her arm firmly.  “You see, I chance to value your safety more than my reputation for kindness to outsiders.  You are going to Bhulwana at the end of this week.  Come!  You promised.”

“Yes, I know I did.”  She looked at him with distress in her eyes.  “I’ve wished I hadn’t ever since.  There is my poor Stella in bad trouble for one thing.  She says she will have to change her ayah.  And there is—­”

“She has got Peter—­and her brother-in-law.  She doesn’t want you too,” said her husband.

“And now there is little Tessa,” proceeded Mrs. Ralston, growing more and more worried as she proceeded.

“Yes, there is Tessa,” he agreed.  “You can offer to take her to Bhulwana with you if you like.  But not her mother as well.  That is understood.  It won’t break her heart to part with her, I fancy.  As for you, my dear,” he gave her a whimsical look, “the sooner you are gone the better I shall be pleased.  Lady Harriet and the Burton contingent left to-day.”