“Well, sir, your behaviour is that of a gentleman, and if the lady wishes to come to us we will offer no objection.  Can I speak to her, that we may come to an understanding?”

“I will make haste and fetch her.”

In fact, he did not hesitate for a moment.  As he expected, Edith was very grateful to him for his friendly proposition.

Mr. Kennedy was extremely astonished to see a young rajah enter the room, and did not seem quite agreeably impressed by the masquerade.

“Is this the lady of whom you spoke?” he asked in surprise.  But his serious face visibly cleared when Edith said, in her sweet, gentle voice—­

“A countrywoman, who owes her life to this gentleman here, and who has only escaped death and dishonour by the aid of this disguise.”

“Mrs. Irwin, if you decide to join Mrs. Kennedy,” said Heideck, “I will send your belongings to Mr. Kennedy’s house.  I must now leave you for the present.  I have other official duties to perform, but I will return later.”

“In any case I am glad to welcome my countrywoman,” protested the old gentleman.  “You can see my house from the window here, and I beg you will call upon me when your duties are over.”

It was not till after sunset that Heideck called at Mr. Kennedy’s house.  He stood for a moment at the garden-gate and saw the snow-clad heights glowing in the fire of the evening light.  Long chains of blue hills rose higher and higher towards the north, till at last the highest range on the distant horizon, bristling with eternal glaciers, mounted towards the sky in wondrous brilliancy.

Mr. Kennedy lived in a very imposing villa.  Heideck was received with such friendliness by the master of the house and the ladies that he recognised only too clearly that Edith must have spoken warmly in his favour.  She must also certainly have told them that he was a German.  She was dressed as a woman again, and had already won the hearts of all by her frankness.  Mrs. Kennedy was a matron with fine, pleasant features, and evidently of high social standing.  Her daughter, about the same age as Edith, appeared to have taken a great fancy to the visitor.

Heideck sat with the family by the fire, and all tried to forget that he wore the uniform of the enemy.

“I wish we could manage to leave India and get back to England,” said Mrs. Kennedy.  “My husband wants to remain in Calcutta to perform his duties, but he cannot stand the climate.  Besides, how could we get to Calcutta?  Our only chance would be to obtain a Russian passport, enabling us to travel without interference.”

“My dearest Beatrice,” objected her husband.  “I know that you, like myself, no longer care what happens to us, at a time when such misfortune has overtaken our country.  Amidst the general misfortune, what matters our own fate?”

“I should think,” interposed Heideck politely, “that the individual, however deeply he feels the general misfortune, ought not to give way to despair, but should always be thinking of his family as in time of peace.”