A considerable amount of life was stirring in the camp, and among the huts. There were goats, and big Bhotia ponies, as well as Bhotias themselves. Government officials, telegraph men, signallers, sub-inspectors, and linesmen, also various eagerly interested villagers. There appeared to be incessant traffic between the village, the telegraph, post, and the encampment. Mrs. Gascoigne was elected a member of the little Mess in the Inspection House. They were a cheery party of six in all, who laid their hearts at the feet of this girl resembling a white slender delicate flower (the stalk was of steel). The new recruit's contribution of stores, newspapers, and books proved extremely welcome, and she soon felt perfectly at home, and became the established housekeeper and hostess of the party. Angel took a keen interest in the action of the lake, the gradual rising of the water, the precautions, and daily measurements and calculations. Colonel Gascoigne, on whom lay the responsibility, locked up in that sheet of water, was engaged continually, riding down to other telegraph stations, inspecting cuttings, and protecting the canal works. But his subordinate, Mr. Brady, occasionally took Mrs. Gascoigne about with him. She explored the villages and scrambled up the mountains, rode down the valley on a shaggy Bhotia pony; and in the exquisite mountain air, with its slight hint of the adjacent snowy range, recovered her colour and her spirits. One morning, as she and Mr. Brady and the two dogs were climbing a hill in search of butterflies, he suddenly called out, as he craned over a rock: "By the pipers that played before Moses! I see a party below on the road making for the camp—a lady—no less, in a dandy—and two men. We shall be a fashionable hill station before we know where we are. Who can they be?" Angel stood up and leant over to survey the travellers, and controlled her disagreeable surprise as she recognised Lola, Sir Cupid, and the general. CHAPTER XXXVIII INTERLOPERS "SEE what a magnet you are!" cried Sir Capel, striking a comic attitude as Angel descended the path towards him—the other travellers had passed on unconscious of her vicinity. "Am I? I was not aware of it before," she said. "Sir Capel Tudor, let me introduce Mr. Brady, my husband's assistant." "—who is worked to death," he supplemented with a grin and a bow. "You do not appear to be in any immediate danger," rejoined Sir Capel, pointing derisively to the butterfly net, "is it very laborious?" "Oh, merely an hour off duty. What has brought you out to the back of beyond?" "An all-consuming curiosity," replied the little traveller, addressing himself particularly to Angel. "I've been hearing no end about the flood that is to be, and will be, the sight of the century, and I am mad keen to see it." "But why?" "A great lake bursting from its prison at a stated hour. The telegraph bell rings, and half a province is instantly inundated. That's about it? So here I am."