Although Captain Haig danced continuously--chiefly with the party from Government House--he happened to notice that Salwey hung about doorways, and that his eyes were constantly fixed on Miss Verona Chandos. Was he _épris_ also? Would he dare to marry her? Brave Salwey! They had been at Harrow together, and Salwey had always been notorious for a species of reckless, and at the same time dogged, courage. Well, the girl herself was lovely--whatever her people were--and apparently fate had no stroke that she could not bear with dignity and fortitude. CHAPTER XXXVI It was just tiffin-time at the hotel, and Mrs. Lepell, somewhat weary and yawning, was about to summon her two young ladies, when her ayah hurried into her room in breathless haste, and announced: "Salwey Sahib want see Mem Sahib," and her nephew followed almost on the ayah's heels. He looked so discomposed that she knew at once that something serious had happened. "Oh, what is it?" she asked. "Is it Tom?" "No," he said, glancing round the room to see that all the doors were closed--then lowering his voice, he added: "It is Nicky Chandos." Mrs. Lepell stepped back and sank into a chair. "Ssh! don't talk loud. Tell me all about it. How did you hear?" "The head constable has come in with a letter, and I am off in five minutes. I left the poor boy the use of my horses, and last night he was riding out to Manora on Baber, no doubt full gallop. Some devil had put a rope across the road. Baber broke his neck, and I fancy that Nicky was killed on the spot. They were found early this morning, with my dog 'Chum' on guard over the two bodies." Mrs. Lepell endeavoured to speak, but failed. "And the worst of it is," resumed her nephew, "the trap was intended for _me_; several people were anxious that I should break my neck--but poor Nicky had not an enemy in the world. Now I must be off to the inquest and funeral; I will leave you to break it to the family here." "Oh, but really, Brian--I cannot!" At this moment Verona entered the room: "I beg your pardon," she said, drawing back from what seemed a private interview between aunt and nephew. "No, no, no--Verona, come here," cried her friend; "Brian, you must tell her." Salwey looked down on the ground for a moment, and then he said, with obvious reluctance: "Well, I suppose I must. Miss Chandos, I'm sorry to say--I am the bearer of very bad news. Your brother Nicky----" "Is hurt?" she questioned. There being no answer--"Is dead?" "Yes, he fell into a trap intended for me, and was killed on the spot." Verona covered her face with her hands and leant against the wall. "You know, _you_ are the one to bear up," he continued, "you will tell Dominga--Dominga will tell your mother. Tell them"--and his voice shook a little--"the poor boy's death must have been instantaneous and painless." And without another word he opened the door and went out. * * * * *