Lenox obeyed automatically. For a mere instant his lids lifted, and recognition gleamed in the eyes that seemed to have retreated half-way into his head. Then, with an incoherent murmur, he settled himself into a more natural attitude of rest; and the two men watching him intently, exchanged a nod of satisfaction.
The Pathan, sitting back on his heels, fumbled at his belt for a pellet of opium.
"He will sleep now, Huzoor, like a day-old babe; and the Presence will sleep also. Since yesterday at this time your Honour hath taken no rest; and there be three hours yet to parade-time."
"Good. We have fought a tough fight, thou and I, and be sure Lenox
Sahib will know of thy share in it. Wake me at half-past five."
"Huzoor."
Zyarulla salaamed profoundly; and Desmond, dropping with fatigue, flung himself, even as he was, on to a chair-bed in the adjoining dressing-room, and slept the dreamless sleep of exhaustion.
Before six he was over at Meredith's bungalow, sitting on the edge of his wife's bed, drinking tea with an egg in it,—her own prescription,—and enjoying her delight at his news.
"Good enough, isn't it?" he concluded heartily. "I'll take the telegraph office on my way back."
"And I'll come over to breakfast, bag and baggage!"
"Capital. If John agrees."