"Good job for us you didn't," returned Anstice rather grimly. "We'd got down to our last round—another five minutes and we'd have been wiped out."
"Whew!" The other man whistled. "Pretty close call, what? Lucky for you we did hustle, I see."
"Yes—but can you explain how it is you're here so soon? We hadn't dared to look for you till to-night or to-morrow morning."
"Oh, that's easily explained. We fell in with your messenger—Sir Richard Wayne, isn't it?—on our way back to Cairo. We were returning from a little punitive expedition"—he smiled pleasantly—"and were only too glad to set out on another jaunt. We get fed-up lounging about barracks, and these affairs come as quite a God-send in the wilderness."
"By the way, where is Sir Richard?" Anstice had been scanning the company, but could catch no glimpse of his friend. "His daughter, Mrs. Cheniston, is here, you know, and she will be anxious——"
"Ah, yes—I have a message for her. Is she here—can you take me to her?"
"She is here," said Anstice quietly, as Iris, hearing her name, approached. "Mrs. Cheniston, this gentleman has a message for you—from your father——"
"I'm Lane—Captain Lane, Mrs. Cheniston." He saluted her hastily. "And your father asked me to tell you he was quite well, only a little tired with his double journey. He wanted very much to return with us, but he really was not fit to turn back immediately; and knowing how a lame duck"—he coughed and looked suddenly embarrassed—"I mean—how one man may delay a squadron, so to speak, he very sensibly agreed to stay at our camp for a few hours' rest. We shall pick him up as we go back," he added, and Iris smiled rather wearily as she answered:
"Thank you very much, Captain Lane. You are sure my father is all right?"
"Certain—only a bit fagged, and no wonder, for he'd ridden hard. Ah—and he told me to say you were to ask Dr. Anston—Anstice, is it?—to help you in any matter in which you wanted a little help."