“I am returning in the first instance to Bab-us-Sahel, to take up my regular duties again. My visit to the frontier has extended over a preposterous length of time, owing first to my accident and then to the rising, and I fear it has thrown the machinery of government a good deal out of gear. Personally, however, I cannot bring myself to regret it. I have enjoyed many important experiences, for which I did not bargain when I set out.” Mabel’s eyes fell before the kindly look in his. “Can you ever forgive me?” she murmured. “I have nothing to forgive. The fault was mine.” He bowed over the hand she held out to him. “The Queen can do no wrong.” They parted, and Mr Burgrave went on to the Norths’ quarters, two small square rooms without a door, and possessing only one small window apiece, high up in the back wall. One side was open to the courtyard of the Sarai, and at night was somewhat inadequately closed by means of curtains and Venetian blinds. The dinner-table had been laid with the help of contributions from the Grahams and the Hardys, and the Commissioner pretended politely not to recognise his own reading-lamp, the only large lamp belonging to the community that had escaped the chances of war and earthquake. Flora, whose father was dining with the General, occupied Mabel’s vacant place, and did her part in helping to arrange the impromptu drawing-room at the back of the room. There were screens and a brazier, to mitigate the coldness of the evening air, and for furniture the camp-chairs which had played so many parts in the economy of the siege. Dick had received strict injunctions to offer his guest a cigar, and Georgia and Flora were prepared to efface themselves so far as to retire into the bedroom should Mr Burgrave’s principles forbid him to smoke in the presence of ladies, but their self-sacrifice was not needed. No sooner were the chairs arranged than the Commissioner, who had been helping to carry them behind the screen, prepared to take his leave. “I will ask you to excuse me early,” he said to Georgia, “for I have a good deal of writing to do, and Mr Beltring has been good enough to offer to take poor Beardmore’s place for this evening.” He hesitated for a moment, turned to go, and then came back again. “I think perhaps I had better explain something that might perplex you in the future,” he said, speaking to Dick, but including Georgia. “It has to do with the frontier question.” “I thought we had come to an agreement on that subject,” said Dick, with some apprehension. “Pardon me, I agreed to withdraw my report in deference to your representations, but I still think your principles unsound--radically unsound.”