“All, except smaller matters of personal detail,” he replied.
“Read on to the last letter,” she said; and he obeyed.
“‘You are promoted to a Majority, as you will see by the enclosed Gazette. Colonel Desmond obtained leave, and started for England a few days before the explosion of the mutiny. Lieutenant-Colonel Sedley is sick, and will be sent down to Calcutta, his old wound having broken out. Could you not—’”
And Hughes paused, looking sadly at Isabel.
The latter stopped in her walk, bent down, and took up the letter which had fallen to the ground.
“Do you think so meanly of me? Do you believe me to be so unworthy of you?” she said, turning her eyes full upon him, and placing the document once more in his hands. “Read on, Enrico.”
“‘Could you not join at once on receipt of this? Don’t bring the Kaffir Bride, we have impediments enough already. You will have command of the old regiment, and we will gloriously revenge on these foul murderers the butchery of our women and children. Don’t hesitate an hour when this reaches you.’
“‘Ever sincerely yours,’
“‘Frederick Curtis.’”
“Always the same,” exclaimed Hughes. “He would have the command and sure promotion, but he thinks of me rather than himself.”