We had lost eight killed beside the Major, and Leyward and the two other fellows were all badly wounded, besides almost every one of the men, and--and they wouldn’t go back.” “No, no; it would have been wrong,” murmured Georgia. “Thank you for telling me this. There could be no message.” “No message,” repeated Beltring, answering the unasked question. “He could not send me any message,” wailed Georgia, as the young man went out, “and I parted from him in anger. Oh, Dick, my darling, my darling--forgive me!” “Oh, Georgie, don’t!” sobbed Mabel. “Poor Mab! I forgot you were there. Lie down here on my bed. I can’t sleep.” “I’m sure I can’t,” protested Mabel. It was not long before she cried herself to sleep, however, but Georgia sat where she was until the morning. CHAPTER XIV. TO KEEP THE FLAG FLYING. “Mab!” Mabel awoke from her uneasy slumbers to wonder where she was, and why Georgia was sitting there, her face silhouetted against the square of grey light that represented a window. “Mab! Dick is not dead.” “Why--oh, Georgie!--have you heard anything?” “No; but I know it. We always agreed that if either of us died when the other was not there, the one that was dead should come back to say good-bye. And I have waited for him all night, and he has not come.” Mabel gazed at her in dismay. “Oh, but you are not building upon that, Georgie? How can it be any proof that he is alive? He might not be allowed to come.” “He promised. Besides, I know he is alive,” persisted Georgia obstinately. “If he was dead, I should feel it.” “Georgie dear, you mustn’t go on like this. You will make yourself ill. Come and lie down a little, and try to go to sleep. I will tell you if he comes.” Mabel ended with a sob. “If he does, I shall know,” murmured Georgia, as she lay down. “Thanks, Mab; I am so tired.” Mabel waited only until she was asleep, and then, summoning Rahah to watch beside her, went in search of Dr Tighe. It so happened that she met him in the passage which led into the courtyard. “Bad business this, Miss North. We can ill spare your brother. How is his poor wife?” “She has borne up wonderfully so far, but--oh, Dr Tighe, I’m afraid her mind is going. She will persist that Dick is not dead.” “Poor thing! can’t realise it yet,” said the doctor compassionately. “No; it is quite a delusion. She says he is still alive, or she would know it. What can we do? I thought perhaps if she could see his body----” “No, no. Better that the delusion should last for ever than she should see his body after those fiends have had to do with it.” “But she must give up hope soon, and it will be such a fearful disappointment----” “If the hope keeps her up through the next few days, so much the better. Afterwards, please God, she’ll have more effectual comfort than we could give her.” “But I can’t help hoping too, and it will make the reality so much worse,” confessed Mabel, with an irrepressible sob.