Wyndham needed no further explanation. A glance at Theo's face was enough. They spent four hours together; talked of all things in heaven and earth, except the one sore subject; and parted with a smile of amused understanding. "Quite like old times!" Paul remarked, and Desmond nodded. For it was a habit, dating from early days, that whenever the pin-pricks of life chafed Theo's impatient spirit, he would seek out his friend, spend an hour or two in his company, and tell him precisely nothing. Thanks to Paul's good offices, dinner was a pleasanter meal than the earlier ones had been. But Evelyn looked white and woe-begone; and Honor wisely carried her off to bed, leaving Desmond to his pipe and his own discouraging thoughts. These proved so engrossing that he failed to hear a step in the verandah, and started when two hands came quietly down upon his shoulders. No need to ask whose they were. Desmond put up his own and caught them in a strong grip. "Old times again, is it?" he asked, with a short satisfied laugh. "Brought your pipe along?" "Yes." "Good business. There's your chair,--it always seems yours to me still. Have a 'peg'?" Paul shook his head, and drew his chair up to the fire with deliberate satisfaction. "Light up, then; and we'll make a night of it as we used to do in the days before we learned wisdom, and paid for it in hard cash." "Talking of hard cash--what price d'you get?" the other asked abruptly. "Seven-fifty." "Will that cover everything?" "Yes." "Theo,--why, in Heaven's name, won't you cancel this wretched business, and take the money from me instead?" "Too late now. And, in any case, it's out of the question, for reasons that you would be the first to appreciate--if you knew them." "But look here--suppose I do know----" Desmond lifted a peremptory hand. "Whatever you think you know, for God's sake don't put it into words. I'm bound to go through with this, Paul, in the only way that seems right to me. Don't make it harder than it is already. Besides," he added, with a brisk change of tone, "this is modern history! We're pledged to old times to-night." Evelyn's fantastic French clock struck three, in silver tones, before the two men parted. "It's an ill wind that blows no good, after all!" Desmond remarked, as he stood in a wide splash of moonlight on the verandah steps. "I feel ten years younger since the morning. Come again soon, dear old man; it's always good to see you." And Paul Wyndham, riding homeward under the myriad lamps of heaven, thanked God, in his simple devout fashion, for the courage and constancy of his friend's heart. CHAPTER XV. GOOD ENOUGH, ISN'T IT? "One crowded hour of glorious life." --SCOTT. The dusty parade-ground of Mian Mir, Lahore's military cantonment, vibrated from end to end with a rising tide of excitement.