He held her closer to him, and she clung to him, not sadly or wearily, but like a strong woman who had fought and won the thing she fought for. "It was Fate after all," he said, under his breath. "She meant us for each other." She looked up at him. Though suffering, physical and mental, had drawn its ineffaceable lines upon her face, it had also added to her beauty the charm of strength and experience. "I knew long ago that it was Fate," she answered. "Do you remember that first evening? You told me that people do not drift aimlessly into each other's lives. Even then, against my will, I felt that it was true. Afterward I was sure. I had entered into your life in a moment of frivolous recklessness, but you had entered into mine with another purpose, and I could not rid myself of you. Your hold upon me was strong. It grew stronger, do what I would, and the farce became deadly earnest." "For me it was always deadly earnest," he said. "When I first saw you standing before the idol, it was as though a wall which had surrounded my life had been overthrown, and that you had come to be my guide and comrade in a new and unknown world." "And then I failed you." His eyes met hers thoughtfully. "Did you? Now I look back, I am not sure. I had to believe you when you said you had deceived me and played with me. I had to force myself to despise you. Yet, when you confronted me in the bungalow, I felt suddenly that you needed to explain nothing. I understood." "Did you understand that I had only deceived myself? I told myself that it was a farce played at your expense. But--Heaven knows--I believe it ceased to be a farce from the first hour I saw you. You believed in me so. No one had believed in me before--I had never believed in myself or in man, or in God, either. But I had to believe in you, and afterward--the rest came." She drew herself upright and looked him full in the dark eyes. "Steven, do you trust me?" He nodded. "As you did on that day when you told me that you owed me all that you were and ever would be?" "As then, Beatrice." She smiled gravely. "You do right to trust me. You have made me worthy of your trust." He put his arm about her shoulder, and led her gently on to the verandah. The night had fallen dark and starless. Through the black veil they saw the gleam of bivouac fires and heard the voices of men calling to one another, and the clatter of piled arms. They remained silent, after the storm and stress of the past, content to be together and at peace. They knew that the long night was over and that the dawn had broken. When the Colonel entered they did not hear him, and without speaking he turned back and closed the door after him. In his hand he held a telegram ordering the deposition of Nehal Singh, Rajah of Marut, and the recognition, pardon and release of one Steven Caruthers, Englishman. But he crept away with the long-hoped-for message. "Time enough," he thought. "They are happy."