She, for her part, riding beside him, perforce in silence, was thinking of him and his unwonted taciturnity. Some trouble had come upon him-- that was certain, and she connected it with the arrival of the mail. Could she but induce him to confide in her? Yet, why should he? She did not know. Still, she wanted him to; for a strange indefinable instinct moved her to the conviction that she could help him. During their acquaintance she had learnt to hold him in high esteem. She admired him, too, for his unassuming nature, the more so that she was able to gauge the real depth of quiet power that lay beneath it. She had noted the ease of his intercourse with these wild and turbulent, but interesting people--for this visit to Sarbaland Khan's village was not the first time she had been among them in Raynier's company--and noting it, knew that it bore testimony to the estimation in which he was held by them; for these sons of the desert and mountain, in common with all barbarians, are quick readers of character, and have no respect for that which is weak. And yet, could she have divined what was troubling him then it would have assumed such trivial proportions to her mind, so simple a solution, as to make her laugh outright. And she knew a great deal more about him than he did about her; indeed, the news she had received that morning, and which had somewhat elated her, mainly concerned him. "What abstruse problem is weighing on your mind, Mr Raynier? Do you know that since we left the chief's village you have hardly spoken a word. And we are almost home again." He started. "I beg your pardon. How very remiss of me. Well, I was thinking of something. As a matter of fact, it's something that's worrying me more than a little." "You had bad news?" "Yes. And yet hardly in the sense of what people understand by bad news. But it was something of an extremely vexatious and worrying nature, and likely to cause me no end of unpleasantness." "I'm so sorry," she said, in a tone which invited further confidence. It decided him. He would tell her. A high ridge rose between them and the camp. This they were the while ascending by a rough road leading to the kotal by which it was crossed. Now, from the other side of this, there boomed forth a long, low, rattling thunder roll. "Hallo! The storm is a great deal nearer than I thought," he exclaimed, looking up. "We must hurry on, Miss Clive. I don't want you to get caught in the thick of it." No time for confidences was this, he decided. All women were afraid of thunder and lightning, though all would not admit it. What, then, would be the use of consulting this one on a delicate and highly unpleasant matter what time her thoughts would be running on how quickly at the earliest they could reach the camp? Another peal rolled forth, dull and distant, tailing off into a sort of staccato rapping rattle.