And in fact that was the one drawback to an otherwise charming fortnight. Grace was away visiting. The pleasant, haphazard people did not quite know where she was. She had left them to visit an aunt at Lucknow, who was feeling dull after an only daughter's marriage, and had begged Lady Elton to spare Grace to her for a few weeks. She might possibly have gone on to Cawnpore, or perhaps to Agra, in both of which places the Eltons had intimate friends. They were expecting a letter daily. It was the hope of this letter coming that caused Tom to delay so long at Meerut. He certainly enjoyed the little break. For those few pleasant days he was able to fling off the burden of Orientalism that had been oppressing him, and to forget that there was such a thing as philosophy in the world. He was his old self--the Tom who had picnicked with the girls on the Thames, bantering Trixy, laughing at Maud, adoring Lady Elton, and losing his heart to Grace. The General came into Meerut two days after Tom's arrival. He had been inspecting troops in the district, and was exceedingly jubilant over the apple-pie order in which he had found everything. In the evening, when, the ladies having withdrawn, he and Tom sat together over coffee and cigars in the large cool verandah, he expressed his satisfaction freely. 'It is becoming the fashion,' he said, 'to run down our native contingent. Nothing more absurd! Properly trained and led, they are a splendid force.' 'But supposing fanatics got amongst them?' said Tom. 'There are a few of that sort about. I have met them.' 'So have the rest of us, my dear boy. You don't suppose I have served for thirty years in India without meeting religious and political maniacs? Why, the East is a hotbed for the species. They flourish like a bay-tree by a river. But look at the matter reasonably! Remember, it is to the soldiers they must appeal. Now what, in the name of Heaven, can the poor devils offer that our men should run after them? Money? They don't possess it. Plunder? Well, to be sure, something might be picked up at that little game, but the fellows have sense enough to know that it couldn't last long. No, no. They get more out of us than they could out of anyone else. And don't tell me, sir,' went on the General, working himself up to what Trixy called his boiling-point, 'that there is no sense of honour amongst them. For I know there is. Yes, sir,' bringing down his fist upon the table, 'I repeat it, there is! I am speaking from experience, mind, not hearsay. Why, I have had jemadars under me, who have been proof against temptations that would have corrupted half the Englishmen I know.' It struck Tom that the General was trying as much to convince himself as to refute anyone else; but he was careful to give no hint of his suspicion, which, however, on the following day was curiously confirmed.