Peace With Honour By SYDNEY C. GRIER AUTHOR OF “A CROWNED QUEEN,” “THE WARDEN OF THE MARCHES,” “IN FURTHEST IND,” Etc. _WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY ALFRED PEARSE_ (_Fifth in the Modern East series_) BOSTON L. C. PAGE & COMPANY _MDCCCCII_ COPYRIGHT. _Copyright, 1902_ By L. C. Page & Company (Incorporated) Published June, 1902 DEDICATION. TO E. FG. L., IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF MUCH KIND ADVICE AND HELP. CONTENTS. I. “SHOULD AULD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT?” II. A COMMUNITY OF INTERESTS III. FELLOW-TRAVELLERS IV. AGAINST HIS WILL V. ACROSS THE FRONTIER VI. AN OFFER OF CO-OPERATION VII. THE MAN WHO DISAPPEARED VIII. EAST MEETS WEST IX. STRAINED RELATIONS X. CAUGHT AND CAGED XI. THE RANKS ARE THINNED XII. THE STANDARD-BEARER FALLS XIII. A PROFESSIONAL SUMMONS XIV. AN ULTIMATUM XV. ONE CROWDED HOUR XVI. A CESSATION OF HOSTILITIES XVII. POINTS OF VIEW XVIII. RETREAT CUT OFF XIX. THE VALUE OF A REPUTATION XX. FOR THE HONOUR OF ENGLAND’S SAKE XXI. FOR A CONSIDERATION XXII. A SILENCE THAT WAS GOLDEN XXIII. HARDLY WON XXIV. VIS MEDICATRIX EPILOGUE PEACE WITH HONOUR. CHAPTER I. “SHOULD AULD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT?” “Now, Dick, I want to trot you out this afternoon, so please put on your smartest clothes, and your best company manners, and your most winning smile.” “Has your majesty any more commands? I was under the impression that I was excused further duty to-day, on condition of dining out with you to-night and to-morrow night.” “This is not duty, it is pleasure--or ought to be.” “That sounds more inviting. Who gets the pleasure?” “I do, if you will come, and I will promise you some as well.” “Your generosity exceeds my highest expectations, but I should like particulars before I make any rash promises. I have just settled down here comfortably for the afternoon.” “Dick!”--Mabel North dashed at her brother, robbed him of his cigar, and, snatching away his newspaper, set her foot upon it--“if you imagine I allow you to smoke in the conservatory merely in order that you may shirk coming out with me, you are mistaken. Now, will you come? Quick, or I shall let this thing go out!” “I give in. Allow me to rescue that cigar. Now, perhaps, you will graciously intimate what it is you want me to do?” “I want you to see something of the serious side of my life. What do you really know about me? You would be sorry some day if you didn’t come this afternoon. When you heard I was no more, you would shake your head and say, ‘Ah, poor girl; what a frivolous butterfly she was!’ I wish to guard against misconceptions of that kind.” “Oh, well, I only hope your conscience will prick you when I am gone again. When you think of me at Kubbet-ul-Haj, sweltering all day and freezing all night, you will say, ‘Ah, poor fellow! I wish I had treated him better while he was here. Never a moment’s peace did I give him; it was nothing but drive and rush from morning to night.’”