“It’s not a question of money.” Colin turned a white, drawn face towards his sister. “If we knew that he, or Whybrow either, was in prison, there might be some hope. Whether he was seized in order to extort money or political concessions, we might come to terms. But if he disappears, as Whybrow did, without leaving a trace, and the Khan’s government deny that they know anything about him, what can we say? The only thing is for some one to go and search for him, and it must be done.” “Oh, not you, Colin! not you!” cried Penelope, almost frantically. “I shall not decide in a hurry. I mean to wait a week, in case the letters have been delayed by snow in the mountains, or by fighting among the tribes. If we hear nothing then, I shall write to the Government of India, asking to be sent to look for him.” “Oh, Colin, you mustn’t go!” she wailed. “You are all I have now.” “It may not be necessary,” he said. “I can’t say more than that.” Penelope thought afterwards that she had never spent such a long week in her life. In terrible contrast to her former wish that Ferrers might not return was her feverish anxiety to be assured that he was actually on his way back. But no news came, and telegrams from Calcutta told that the authorities there had very little hope. They pointed out that they had agreed most reluctantly to send Ferrers to Gamara, and their forebodings seemed in a fair way of being justified. Nothing had been heard of Ferrers or from him by the end of the week, and Colin wrote at once to offer his services to go in search of his friend. The reply was prompt and decisive. The Government had no intention of sending any further mission to Gamara. “I must get leave of absence, and travel as a private individual,” was all the comment Colin vouchsafed when he saw the joy which Penelope could not hide. “It will make things a little more difficult, but Government aid really doesn’t seem to do much good.” “Oh, I wish I could speak to Major Keeling before he does, and beg him not to grant him leave!” thought Penelope, as she saw him mount his pony--he was allowed to ride a little by this time--and take the direction of the town; but it seemed as though Major Keeling had divined her wishes without hearing them. He was in his office, digesting an acrimonious rebuke from headquarters on the subject of the young officer upon whom he had seized to replace Ferrers, and his refusal of Colin’s request was sharp and short. “Go to Gamara--six months’ leave? Certainly not. We are short-handed already. I wonder you have the face to ask it.” “You can’t expect me to leave my friend to be tortured to death, sir.” “What does it signify to you what I expect? You won’t get leave from me to go on such a wild-goose chase.” “Major Keeling, I earnestly entreat you to grant me this six months. I cannot leave Ferrers to his fate.” “What are you standing there talking for--taking up my time? You won’t do any good if you stay till to-morrow.”