Fitz understood. Mr Burgrave was suffering acutely in being carried over the rough ground, and he feared lest some sound extorted from him by the pain should acquaint Mabel with the fact. The litter and its bearers dropped behind, and if now and then a groan was forced from the Commissioner’s lips, his rival, at any rate, felt no contempt for the involuntary weakness. Before half of the journey had been accomplished, a relief party, headed by Dick, met them, and Mr Burgrave was transferred to a charpoy carried by natives, after Dr Tighe had made rough and ready use of the splints and strapping Georgia had sent. A little later a detachment of the Khemistan Horse passed at a smart trot in the direction of the gorge. It was not now the rule, as in the early days of General Keeling’s reign, for the regiment to sleep in its boots, but it was still supposed to be ready day and night to trace the perpetrators of any outrage and bring them to justice--rough justice, sometimes, but none the less impressive for that. The sight gave Mabel a sense of safety and comfort, and she scouted Flora’s proposal that she should come home with her for the night. “As if I would leave Georgie alone, with all this extra work on her hands!” she said, as they turned in at the gate. “Oh, Mab, is it true about the Commissioner?” cried Georgia, coming out to meet them on the verandah. “Yes; I am afraid he’s dreadfully hurt, poor man!” “Was he riding with you when he fell?” “He--he was riding after me,” said Mabel cautiously. Georgia threw up her hands. “Oh, if you could only have hurt any other man, or taken him to any house but this!” she cried; and Mabel thought it both unkind and unfair, considering the circumstances. CHAPTER VIII. WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION.