"I've a good idea where Nancy is. She has gone down to her old nurse in Coimbatore; an excellent woman, who married a chap in the Telegraphs. Nance could not be better fixed up, for the present; the girl feels like a mortally wounded animal, that wants to hide from its own sort. It would have been a terrible ordeal for a child like Nancy, with her hurt, so to speak, raw, to find herself launched amongst complete strangers, with no one to hold on to, but a fellow she had known for a few weeks. One of my coolies told me, that last night he had seen the ghost of a woman on a white horse riding down the ghât road. Of course, that was Nancy, making for the railway station."
"I'm fairly broad-minded," said Mayne, "and I can see the matter from your point of view; naturally, you hold a brief for Nancy. I remember the first time we met, you told me she was the apple of your eye!"
"Aye. And what queer things have happened, since we overtook you that day on your way here. Now I wonder, if I had turned you back, would it have made any difference?"
"No—I believe it was 'Kismet.' I wish to goodness, Kismet had left me alone. However, I shall give the girl a wide berth,—and her freedom."
"Oh, will you?" Dawson's tone implied doubt.
"Yes, I shall hold my tongue; none of my brother officers would dream of my having got married up on a coffee estate. Later, it may be a bit awkward. You see I am my uncle's heir." He paused for a moment, and fumbled with his tobacco pouch,—which, all unconscious, he was holding upside down. "However, I'll manage somehow—even if there are complications."
"And how about Nancy? When she has recovered from this blow, has gone to England and grown up, how will it be, if she comes across a fellow she takes to? If ever she falls in love, it will be the devil of a business. A case of all—or nothing. What will happen then, eh?"
"There's no good in looking so far ahead," declared Mayne, preparing to light his pipe. "Why meet trouble half way—one of us may die——"
"Who is talking of dying?" inquired Mrs. Hicks, suddenly launching herself into the verandah. "Boys, I've overslept myself most disgracefully! and I'm shockingly late; but I always was a lazybones,—and fond of my little bed. I've not even been in to see Nancy yet."
When it had been carefully explained to her, that there was no Nancy to see, her fat, florid face was a study.