“The Commissioner has imbibed so many horrors about the Khemistan frontier that he is pleased every morning to find himself alive, and the house not burnt over his head. I believe he regards the improvement as due to his own presence here, and at the same time considers it an additional proof that Khemistan may now be governed like all the other provinces. If I had things my own way, my very first move would be to deport Burgrave, preferably to Simla, where he could both be happy himself and a cause of happiness to others, but as it is, he will probably deport me.” “Then you believe he has some trick on hand too?” “I’m sure of it. He is in constant communication with Government. Beardmore and his clerks come to him every day”--Beardmore was the Commissioner’s private secretary, and a man after his chief’s own heart, of the type that considers it has successfully surmounted a crisis when it has drawn up a state-paper on the subject, and has no inconvenient yearnings after energetic action--“and he is busy with them for hours, concocting a report on the state of the frontier, I suppose. When that is finished, we may expect the blow.” “What is it that you expect exactly? A friend of mine at headquarters tells me there’s a persistent rumour----” “That they intend to withdraw the subsidy, and cut loose from Nalapur? Just so. And that means the deluge for us. The blessed word Non-intervention will bring about the need for intervention, as usual.” “Our people will rise?” “Not at first. Bahram Khan will probably remove his uncle quietly, and in order to still any unpleasant rumours, encourage raids on us, which will serve the further purpose of awakening the appetite for blood and loot. The Sardars will be got to believe that we have only drawn back in order to advance better, and that their one chance is to make the first move. They will cross the border, and our people will join them.” “And we shall be thankful for the fort? North, in view of all this, what do you say to sending the ladies down to Bab-us-Sahel for a while?” “I don’t know,” answered Dick hesitatingly. “I thought of suggesting to my wife that she should go down there and do some shopping.” “But you fancied she’d see through it? Probably. She was born and bred here, and knows the weather-signs as well as you do. What’s the good of trying to throw dust in her eyes? Put it to her plainly that, as things are, you would feel much happier if she was away, and she’ll go like a shot. Your sister and my Flora will go with her, and they’ll be a pleasant party.” “She won’t like going when there’s no sign of danger, and it might precipitate the crisis, too. Perhaps when Burgrave launches his thunderbolt----” “If you could only get him to escort the ladies down at once, we might pull through yet.” “No fear,” said Dick bitterly, “until he’s done his worst.” CHAPTER X. GAINING A LOVER AND KEEPING A FRIEND.