the morning to proceed on court-martial duty to a neighbouring station some fifty miles off, where officers were scarce, and he was fain to express his thanks in a note, which it is needless to say consumed a quantity of best paper before it got itself written to his satisfaction; the expression that the Friday and Saturday spent at the residency had been the happiest moments of his life being eventually toned down to the effect that this had been the pleasantest visit he had ever paid.
The court-martial lasted for several days. When it was ended, Yorke determined to return by easy marches, stopping for a few days to shoot on the road, the plains round Mustaphabad being fairly supplied with game. In this way he would kill time till the month's absence of the commissioner and his daughter should be completed, every day of which had been ticked off as it passed, for he felt that life in cantonments would be insupportable till their return. Thus spinning out the time allowed for his own return, he pitched his camp for the last day at a village about eight miles from Mustaphabad, and walking off his impatience by a long morning and evening tramp with his gun through the surrounding country, slept the sound sleep of fatigue in his little tent, and rode into cantonments early the next morning.
Spragge was away in the lines at the orderly-room when he reached the bungalow; so, calling for tea, and throwing off his coat, for the days were now getting hot, he sat down in the veranda till his chum should return.
That gentleman soon came into view cantering into the compound, his long legs upheld at a short distance from the ground by his diminutive pony; and after bestowing a few cuffs and blessings on that animal's patient attendant for some faults of omission and commission, greeted his friend in his usual hearty manner.
The first topic of conversation was, of course, the amount of Yorke's bag; next followed Yorke's inquiry what the news was.
"News? there never is any news in this blessed place, except that it's getting infernally hot already, which you can find out for yourself. A lot of fellows have gone off to the hills for six months' leave, and almost all the ladies have started; I should like to have gone off myself, but can't afford it; and now we are in for the regular hot-weather dulness. Nothing but billiards and rackets left for a fellow to do. But I say, you ought to have been here, my boy, to come in for the goings-on of my cousin Ted while officiating commissioner. He has been doing the big official in tremendous style — bachelor parties, ladies' parties, handing in mother Polwheedle to dinner, and all the rest of it; hermetically-sealed soups and claret-cup poured out like water. Ted's been going it, and no mistake. Pity he's got such a short tether of the office!"
"Yes, indeed," said Yorke, trying to assume an air of indifference; "the commissioner is to be back again this week, isn't he?"
"Comes back to-morrow, but only for a few days, you know; and I think they might have given Ted the acting appointment."
"Acting appointment!" said Yorke, starting up, and at once thrown off his guard, "what do you mean?"
"Why, bless me!" replied Spragge, "you don't mean to say you haven't heard the news? Why, it's been in all the papers a week ago. I thought, of course, you must have seen it. The commissioner has been very unwell — liver gone wrong, I believe — and has been ordered home sharp, and Colonel Falkland is appointed to succeed him."
"Colonel Falkland!" cried Yorke, feeling suddenly as if something more remained to be told.
"Yes, of course," answered his friend; "he is engaged to Miss Cunningham, you know. They are to be married in a fortnight."
CHAPTER XIV.
When Mr. Cunningham lost his young wife, which event happened just twenty-one years before the time at which this history begins, and within a year of his marriage, he was left with a little daughter on whom the poor mother had scarcely time to bestow a parting kiss before she died. The friendly wife of a brother civilian, who was present on the occasion, proposed to carry off the infant to her house and bring it up for the time with her own children; but the young widower was averse to parting with the charge, and the lady was fain to be content with coming over daily to bestow an occasional superintendence on his nursery establishment. A still more frequent supervision over the child's welfare was given by his friend. Lieutenant Falkland, who, although he declined the
