"Were you, General? What station?" Woodhouse was coolly stirring his tea, emphatically at his ease. Jane, her back to the men as she fussed over the tea wagon, filled her own cup with hot water inadvertently. She tried to laugh over the mistake, but her fingers trembled as she poured the water back into the kettle. "Not on the lazy old Nile, as you were--lucky dog!" the general returned. "Out on the yellow sands--at Arkowan--a place in the sun, never fear!" The women had their cups now, and joined the men, sitting a little behind. Jane caught a shrewd sidewise glance from the general--a glance that sought a quick and sure reading of her emotions. She poised her cup as if expecting a question and the glance turned aside. But it had warned the girl that she was not altogether a passive factor in the situation. She set a guard over her features. "Let me see, Captain Woodhouse"--it was little Bishop who took up the probe--"you must have been here in the days when Craigen was governor--saw your papers have it that you were here three months in nineteen seven." "Yes, Craigen was governor then," Woodhouse answered guardedly. "You never saw him, General." Bishop turned to Sir George. "Big, bluff, blustering chap, with a voice like the bull of Bashan. Woodhouse, here, he'll recognize my portrait." Woodhouse smiled--secret disdain for the clumsy trap was in that smile. "I'm afraid I do not," he said. "Craigen was considered a small, almost a delicate, man." He had recognized the bungling emphasis laid by Bishop on the Craigen characteristics, and his answer was pretty safely drawn by choosing the opposites. Bishop looked flustered for an instant, then admitted Woodhouse was right. He had confused Sir David Craigen with his predecessor, he said in excuse. "I fancy I ought to remember the man. I had tea in this very room with him several times," Woodhouse ventured. He let his eyes rove as if in reminiscence. "Much the same here--as--except, General Crandall, I don't recall that fireplace." He indicated the heavy Gothic ornament on the opposite side of the room. Jane caught her breath under the surge of secret elation. The resource of the man so to turn to advantage a fact that she had carelessly given him in their conversation of a few moments back! The girl saw a flicker of surprise cross General Crandall's face. Lady Crandall broke in: "You have a good memory, after all, Captain Woodhouse. That fireplace is just five years old." "Um--yes, yes," her husband admitted. "Clever piece of work, though. Likely to deceive anybody by its show of antiquity." General Crandall called for a second slice of lemon in his cup. He was obviously sparring for another opening, but was impressed by the showing the suspected man was making. Bishop pushed the inquisition another step: "Did you happen to be present, Captain, at the farewell dinner we gave little Billy Barnes? I think it must have been in the spring you were here."