“That is Nalapur,” said Georgia, pointing to the mountains, “and beyond it to the eastward is Ethiopia. Our house is the last on British soil. The corner of the compound exactly touches the frontier line.” “Then that’s why your father rides past just there?” said Mabel unthinkingly. “So the natives say. I rather like to think of him as still guarding the frontier which he spent his life in defending. It’s a nice idea, I mean--that’s all. But, Mab, the men are coming back from the durbar. Look at that dust-cloud, and you will see the light strike on something shining every now and then. That’s the bravery of their durbar get-up. We will wait here until they get into the town, and capture the first that comes this way. I must find out what has happened.” They watched the cavalcade enter the town and separate into its component parts, and presently saw Fitz Anstruther riding up to the fort. He caught sight of their parasols and waved his hand, but Georgia dragged Mabel down the steps, and they met him in the courtyard. “You’ve heard, then?” he cried, as his eyes fell on Georgia’s face. “Only a bazar rumour. Is it true that Bahram Khan----?” “He is restored to his estates and rank, and recommended by the Commissioner to the particular favour of his uncle. Burgrave had him all ready outside the tent, it appears, and after enlarging to the Amir and the luckless Bahadar Shah on the blessings of family unity, and the advisability of forgiving and forgetting youthful peccadilloes, brought him in as a practical embodiment of his words. It was dramatic--very--but it was playing it awfully low down on us, especially the Major.” “Then he knew nothing of it?” “No more than I did.” “And Ashraf Ali was willing to take the Commissioner’s advice?” “He hadn’t much choice. A glance from Major North would have turned the scale, but you know what the Major is, Mrs North--he will play fair by his own side, however badly they may have treated him. He gave him no encouragement to show fight, and Ashraf Ali took a back seat. It _is_ rather tough to have to receive again into the bosom of your family an affectionate nephew who has tried to murder you, isn’t it?” “But how does the Commissioner get over that little difficulty?” “Airily ignores it. ‘Not guilty, and won’t do it again,’ is his view. Every prospect of domestic happiness in the Amir’s family circle in future.” “Where is Dick now?” asked Georgia suddenly. “I rather think he has gone to have it out with the Kumpsioner Sahib. He was horribly sick, and who can wonder?” “I really think,” said Mabel, quite inconsequently, “that if I couldn’t pick up my own balls I wouldn’t play tennis.” They were sitting in the verandah overlooking the tennis-court, and it was the sight of the squad of small boys in uniform who were being kept hard at work by the three men now playing that had called forth the remark. “We get so slack with the climate,” pleaded Fitz.