So far Shafto had never spoken of his _kubber_; even with the evidence of his own eyes he shrank from suspecting anyone connected with Sophy Leigh; but links were joined in spite of his reluctance to face facts. How could Krauss have known that he had gone tiger shooting? Surely the affairs of an insignificant fellow like himself never crossed the mental horizon of such a big and busy person as Karl Krauss? There was no doubt that the animal he had seen near Elephant Point bore a suspicious resemblance to Krauss’s weight-carrying grey pony! What was “Dacoit” doing in the jungle, thirty miles from Rangoon? He could make a pretty good guess. Krauss had motored down, sent the animal on ahead, and ridden through the grass and jungle in order to superintend the landing. Could this be a fact? Or was the whole thing a mere coincidence? Was he obsessed by FitzGerald and suspecting an honest man, who might have been shooting in the swamps—why not? CHAPTER XXIV SENTENCE OF DEATH When Sophy Leigh returned from May Myo she had half expected her aunt to meet her at the station, and was much concerned to discover, when she arrived home, that Mrs. Krauss had suffered a serious collapse, had not been out of the house for weeks, but was confined to her own apartments, nursed and attended by the ever-faithful Lily. Her condition seemed as serious as when Sophy had arrived from England, ten months previously, she found the patient propped up among her pillows, weak, apathetic, and terribly wasted. She looked dreadfully ill and her whole appearance was unkempt and strange. “Oh, my dear Aunt Flora,” said Sophy kneeling beside her and taking her limp hand, “why did you not let me know? _Why_ did you not wire for me? I would have come back at once.” “No, no, no!” murmured Mrs. Krauss as she rolled her head slowly from side to side and closed her drowsy, dark eyes. “But yes, yes, yes! and when you wrote to me you never said one word about being ill—though I might have suspected it. Your writing was so feeble—so shockingly shaky. How long has my aunt been like this?” she asked, appealing to Lily. “About three—four weeks,” replied the pouter pigeon, with calm unconcern; “ever since Mr. Krauss went to Singapore.” “Most of her friends have been away and my aunt has had no one to look after her, except you? Did the German ladies come to see her?” “They did—yes, three, four times; asking plenty questions. Mem-sahib would not receive them, she liking only be left alone.” To-day Mrs. Krauss appeared almost unconscious of Sophy’s presence and to be sunken in a sort of stupor. As soon as Herr Krauss arrived home Sophy accosted him and deplored her aunt’s condition. “If you had only sent me a line I would have been here the next day.” “Oh yes, of course,” he acquiesced brusquely. “She wanted you to have a good time. I have been away, too. Now that you are here I expect she will pick up, same as before.”