"That's it," he agreed. "His name is Aylmer. So far she has not got beyond that fact, my friend." Aylmer looked round at them both. There was something calculating in the way in which he surveyed the two, as if they were factors in a situation which had hitherto eluded him, but which was now beginning to take definite shape. And his lips had set one upon the other in a rigid line. His chin seemed to have attained incongruous squareness beneath the suave droop of his moustache. "She's got to believe in me!" he announced grimly. "I won't let her be unworthy of herself." And the other two noticed that as he said it he nodded to himself two or three times decidedly. He drew himself up; unconsciously his carriage grew stiffer. It was as if he had mapped out and settled a matter definitely. He began to talk and laugh naturally, and on other subjects. And if any allusion to the day's adventure outcropped into the conversation he did not avoid it, but simply passed it by without comment. He had taken his line. The incident, apart from his resolution, was closed. * * * * * As the three strolled up to the camp a man rose from the group which sat in the shadow of the awning at the door of the largest tent and came out to meet them. He was tall, white-haired, aquiline of feature. And his pervading characteristic seemed to be gravity. His figure and face alike were unbending. He made them a studied little bow. "My daughter tells me, Captain Aylmer," he said, "that I have to thank you for your prompt action on behalf of my grandson. You saved him from a situation of grave peril." Aylmer realized that this was without doubt Jacob Van Arlen. He suspected, also, why the old man had thus addressed him without waiting for an introduction. For men who are introduced, amid the intimate sociabilities of the Tangier Tent Club, at any rate, usually shake hands. Van Arlen's right hand held his sombrero; his left was at his side. Aylmer returned the bow. "I did no more than what had obviously to be done," he said quietly. "Despard merits your thanks more than I." The other looked at the major with a distinct tinge of relief. "Is that so?" he asked hopefully. "No!" said Despard, laconically. "Your thanks are not in the least misdirected, Mr. Van Arlen." The old man made another courteous inclination of the head. "I thought I could not so far have misunderstood my daughter," he answered. "I hope, Captain Aylmer, that while you remain in Tangier I may be permitted to serve you in any way which you like to command. Perhaps, though, your stay is short?" And there was hopefulness in this last query. It was patent amid the studied urbanity of the tone. In spite of himself Aylmer smiled. "I am a bird of passage," he said lightly. "I manage to take short leave for most of the Tent Club meetings, to which Colonel Anstruther is kind enough to make me welcome."