“What’s his wife like?”

“Oh, very different.  Much younger and fond of gaiety, I think.  Not that she can get any here.  She’s a decidedly pretty woman.  I haven’t seen much of her; for she has been away most of the time, that the regiment has been here.  She has relatives in Calcutta and stays a lot with them.”

“I don’t blame her,” said Wargrave, laughing.  “Rohar must be a very deadly place for a young woman.  No amusements.  No dances.  No shops.  And the only female society the wives of the Colonel and the Doctor.”

“Luckily for Mrs. Norton she is rather keen on sport and is a good rider.  You’ll probably meet her to-day; for she generally comes out pigsticking with us, though she doesn’t carry a spear.  I’ve promised to take her shooting with us the next time we go.  Hullo! here are the ponies at last.  Are you ready, Frank?”

The two officers rose, as their syces, or native grooms, came up before the bungalow leading two ponies, a Waler and an Arab.  Raymond walked over to the bundle of spears and selected one with a leaf-shaped steel head.

“Try this, Frank,” he said.  “See if it suits you.  You don’t want too long a spear.”

His companion balanced it in his hand.

“Yes, it seems all right.  I say, old chap, how does one go for the pig?  Do you thrust at him?”

“No; just ride hard at him with the spear pointed and held with stiffened arm.  Your impetus will drive the steel well home into him.”

Mounting their ponies they started, the syces carrying the spears and following them at a steady run as they trotted down the sandy road leading to the city, where at the Palace they were to meet the Maharajah and the other sportsmen.  The sky was paling fast at the coming of the dawn; and they could discern the dozen bungalows and the Regimental Lines, or barracks, comprising the little cantonment, above which towered the dark mass of a rocky hill crowned by the ruined walls of an old native fort.  On either side of their route the country was flat and at first barren.  But, as they neared the capital, they passed through cultivation and rode by green fields irrigated from deep wells, by hamlets of palm-thatched mud huts where no one yet stirred, and on to where the high embrasured walls of the city rose above the plain.  Under the vaulted arch of the old gateway the ponies clattered, along through the narrow, silent streets of gaily-painted, wooden-balconied houses, at that hour closely shuttered, until the Palace was reached as the rising sun began to flush the sky with rose-pink.

The guard of sepoys at the great gate saluted as the two officers rode into the wide, paved courtyard lined by high, many-windowed buildings.  In the centre of it a group of horsemen, nobles of the State or officials of the Palace in gay dresses and bright-coloured puggris, or turbans, with gold or silver-hilted swords hanging from their belts, sat on their restless animals behind the Maharajah, a pleasant-faced, athletic man in a white flannel coat, riding-breeches and long, soft leather boots, mounted on a tall Waler gelding.  He was chatting with four or five other officers of the Punjaubis and raised his hand to his forehead as the newcomers rode up and lifted their hats to him.