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Chapter 2: Using Data

TRUE/FALSE

1. A variable can hold more than one value at a time.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 52

2. The legal integer values are -231 through 231-1. These are the highest and lowest values that you can
store in four bytes of memory, which is the size of an int variable.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 62

3. Multiplication, division, and remainder always take place after addition or subtraction in an
expression.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 93

4. The term parse means to break into component parts.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 108

5. You can create a confirm dialog box with five arguments.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 90

6. Once a variable has been declared and initialized, new values may not be assigned to the variable.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 53

7. The expression boolean isTenLarger = (10 < 5) will produce a value of true.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 68

8. Even if a statement occupies multiple lines, the statement is not complete until the semicolon is
reached.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 54

9. You are limited to declaring a maximum of three variables in a single statement.

ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 54

10. Constants hold a single value for the duration of the program execution.

ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: 58

MULTIPLE CHOICE

1. A data item is when it cannot be changed while a program is running.

a. variable c. primitive
 b. constant d. literal
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 52

2. A is a named memory location that you can use to store a value.

a. cast c. reference
b. variable d. primitive
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 52

3. Primitive types serve as the building blocks for more complex data types, called types.
a. integer c. reference
b. literal d. data
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 52

4. refers to the order in which values are used with operators.

a. Associativity c. Declaration
b. Initialization d. Floating
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 53

5. In Java, you use variables of type to store integers, or whole numbers.

a. num c. var
b. double d. int
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: 52

6. A(n) variable can hold only one of two values: true or false.
a. integer c. true
b. boolean d. comparison
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 67

7. The term refers to the mathematical accuracy of a value.

a. float data c. significant digits
b. real integers d. single-precision floating-point number
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 69

8. A data type can hold 14 or 15 significant digits of accuracy.

a. double c. char
b. float d. boolean
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 69

9. You use the data type to hold any single character.

a. single c. byte
b. char d. float
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 70

10. In Java, is a built-in class that provides you with the means for storing and manipulating
character strings.
a. Escape c. String
b. Type d. Character
 ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 72

11. You can store any character, including nonprinting characters such as a backspace or a tab, in a(n)
variable.
a. int c. boolean
b. char d. set
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 73

12. The characters move the cursor to the next line when used within a println() statement.
a. /n c. .+
b. \n d. $
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 73-74

13. In Java, when a numeric variable is concatenated to a String using the , the entire expression
becomes a String.
a. plus sign c. concatenate statement
b. equal sign d. string statement
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 56

14. You use operators to perform calculations with values in your programs.
a. calculation c. integer
b. arithmetic d. precedence
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 91

15. occurs when both of the operands are integers.

a. Data modeling c. Integer division
b. Type cast d. Unlike assignment
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 92

16. The percent sign is the operator.

a. remainder c. percentage
b. remaining d. integer division
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 92

17. What is the value of result after the following statement is executed?
int result = 2 + 3 * 4;
a. 9 c. 14
b. 10 d. 20
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 93

18. The is the type to which all operands in an expression are converted so that they are compatible
with each other.
a. unifying type c. numbered
b. data type d. primitive
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 99

19. A(n) dialog box asks a question and provides a text field in which the user can enter a response.
a. question c. confirm
 b. JOptPane d. input
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: 85

20. Each primitive type in Java has a corresponding class contained in the java.lang package. These
classes are called classes.
a. case c. type-wrapper
b. primitive d. show
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 87-88

21. A(n) dialog box displays the options Yes, No, and Cancel.
a. confirm c. message
b. input d. answer

ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 89

22. statement?
Which of the following is NOT a component of a variable declaration
a. data type identifier c. variable name
b. symbolic constant d. ending semicolon

ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 53

23. You may declare an unlimited number of variables in a statement as long as the variables are .
a. the same data type c. properly commented
b. initialized to the same value d. floating point numbers
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 54

24. When a numeric variable is concatenated to a String, the entire expression becomes a(n) .
a. int c. method
b. constant d. String
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: 56

25. Which escape sequence will move the cursor to the beginning of the current line?
a. \b c. \\
b. \r d. \n
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 73

COMPLETION

1. A(n) is a simple data type.

ANS: primitive type

PTS: 1 REF: 52

2. A(n) operator compares two items and the result has a Boolean value.

ANS:
relational
comparison
 PTS: 1 REF: 68

3. A(n) number contains decimal positions.

ANS:
floating-point
float
double

PTS: 1 REF: 69

4. forces a value of one data type to be used as a value of another type.

ANS:
Type casting
type casting
Casting
casting

PTS: 1 REF: 100

5. When you write programs that accept , there is a risk that the user will enter
the wrong type of data.

ANS: user input

PTS: 1 REF: 81

MATCHING

Match each term with the correct statement below.

a. operand f. primitive
b. cast operator g. float
c. assignment h. boolean
d. operator precedence i. escape sequence
e. garbage
1. true or false
2. The operator that is represented by an equal sign (=)
3. A programming term for an unknown value
4. Java consistently specifies their size and format
5. A value that can be used on either side of an operator
6. Rules for the order in which parts of a mathematical expression are evaluated
7. A floating-point data type
8. Created by placing the desired result type in parentheses
9. Begins with a backslash followed by a character

1. ANS: H PTS: 1 REF: 52

2. ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: 53
3. ANS: E PTS: 1 REF: 54
4. ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: 62
5. ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: 91
 6. ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: 93
7. ANS: G PTS: 1 REF: 69
8. ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: 100
9. ANS: I PTS: 1 REF: 73

SHORT ANSWER

1. A variable declaration is a statement that reserves a named memory location. It includes what four
elements?

ANS:
A data type that identifies the type of data that the variable will store
An identifier that is the variable’s name
An optional assignment operator and assigned value, if you want a variable to contain an initial value
An ending semicolon

PTS: 1 REF: 53

2. Describe the variation types byte, short, and long of the integer type.

ANS:
The types byte, short, and long are all variations of the integer type. The byte and short types
occupy less memory and can hold only smaller values; the long type occupies more memory and can
hold larger values.

PTS: 1 REF: 62

3. Describe how to assign values based on the result of comparisons to Boolean variables.

ANS:
Java supports six relational operators that are used to make comparisons. A relational operator
compares two items; an expression that contains a relational operator has a Boolean value. When you
use any of the operators that have two symbols (==, <=, >=, or !=), you cannot place any whitespace
between the two symbols. You also cannot reverse the order of the symbols. That is, =<, =>, and =! are
all invalid operators.

PTS: 1 REF: 68

4. What is the difference between the float data type and the double data type?

ANS:
Java supports two floating-point data types: float and double. A float data type can hold
floating-point values of up to six or seven significant digits of accuracy. A double data type requires
more memory than a float, and can hold 14 or 15 significant digits of accuracy. The term significant
digits refers to the mathematical accuracy of a value. For example, a float given the value
0.324616777 displays as 0.324617 because the value is accurate only to the sixth decimal position.

PTS: 1 REF: 69

5. What is an escape sequence and why would a Java programmer use it to store a character?

ANS:
 You can store any character—including nonprinting characters such as a backspace or a tab—in a
char variable. To store these characters, you can use an escape sequence, which always begins with a
backslash followed by a character—the pair represents a single character.

PTS: 1 REF: 73

6. Describe and give an example of operator precedence.

ANS:
Operator precedence refers to the rules for the order in which parts of a mathematical expression are
evaluated. The multiplication, division, and remainder operators have the same precedence. Their
precedence is higher than that for the addition and subtraction operators. Addition and subtraction have
the same precedence. In other words, multiplication, division, and remainder always take place from
left to right prior to addition or subtraction in an expression. For example, the following statement
assigns 14 to result: int result = 2 + 3 * 4;.

PTS: 1 REF: 93

7. In Java, how is it possible to perform mathematical operations on operands with unlike types?

ANS:
When you perform arithmetic operations with operands of unlike types, Java chooses a unifying type
for the result. The unifying type is the type to which all operands in an expression are converted so that
they are compatible with each other. Java performs an implicit conversion; that is, it automatically
converts nonconforming operands to the unifying type.

PTS: 1 REF: 99

8. Explain how you can override a unifying type imposed by Java.

ANS:
You can explicitly (or purposely) override the unifying type imposed by Java by performing a type
cast. Type casting forces a value of one data type to be used as a value of another type. To perform a
type cast, you use a cast operator, which is created by placing the desired result type in parentheses.
Using a cast operator is an explicit conversion. The cast operator is followed by the variable or
constant to be cast.

PTS: 1 REF: 100

9. How can you create and use an input dialog box in Java?

ANS:
You can create an input dialog box using the showInputDialog() method. Six overloaded
versions of this method are available, but the simplest version uses a single argument that is the
prompt you want to display within the dialog box. The showInputDialog() method returns a
String that represents a user’s response; this means that you can assign the
showInputDialog() method to a String variable and the variable will hold the value that the
user enters.

PTS: 1 REF: 85-86

10. How would you ask the user to confirm an action using a dialog box?
 ANS:
A confirm dialog box displays the options Yes, No, and Cancel; you can create one using the
showConfirmDialog() method in the JOptionPane class. Four overloaded versions of the
method are available; the simplest requires a parent component (which can be null) and the String
prompt that is displayed in the box. The showConfirmDialog() method returns an integer
containing one of three possible values: JOptionPane.YES_OPTION,
JOptionPane.NO_OPTION, or JOptionPane.CANCEL_OPTION.

PTS: 1 REF: 89

11. Describe how the use of named constants can provide advantages over the use of literal values.

ANS:
Using named constants makes programs easier to read and understand.
When a constant is defined, you can change the constant at one location, which saves time and
prevents you from missing other references.
Using named constants reduces typographical errors that may not be recognized by the compiler.
Constants can be easily identified when named conventionally (all caps).

PTS: 1 REF: 55

12. Describe why it is important to assign an appropriate data type to variables in an application.

ANS:
If a value is too large for the data type assigned, the compiler will issue an error message and the
program will not execute.
If a data type is used that is larger than needed, memory is wasted.

PTS: 1 REF: 62-63

13. Describe how the Scanner class works with the System.in object in order to provide flexibility.

ANS:
The System.in object is designed to read bytes only. Since it is common to accept data of other
types, the Scanner object can connect to the System.in property. This creates a Scanner object
that will be connected to the default input device.

PTS: 1 REF: 76

14. 100 = salesAmount;

In terms of assignment operators, why is the above statement illegal?

ANS:
This assignment operator has a right-to-left associativity. Associativity is the order in which values are
used with operators. Since 100 is a numeric constant, it is an rvalue, which is an item that can appear
only on the right side of the assignment operator. An identifier that can appear on the left side of an
assignment operator is referred to as an lvalue (left-to-right associativity).

PTS: 1 REF: 53

15. Describe three ways in which a constant differs from a variable.

 ANS:
Constants are preceded by the keyword final in a declaration statement.
Constants can be assigned a value once only and the value cannot be changed.
Constants conventionally have identifiers in all uppercase letters, distinguishing them from other
forms.

PTS: 1 REF: 54

CASE

1. Write the statement to declare an uninitialized integer value for salesAmt.

ANS:
int salesAmt;

The statement must end with a semicolon.

PTS: 1 REF: 54

2. Write the statement that will declare and assign two integer variables, salesAmt and costAmt, in a
single statement. Assign values of your choice to the variables.

ANS:
int salesAmt = 100, costAmt = 15;

A semicolon must end the statement. Variable declarations are separated with a comma.

PTS: 1 REF: 54

3. import javax.swing.JOptionPane;
public class salesJune
{
public static void main(String[] args)
{
int storeSales = 250;

}
}

In the above code, complete the statement that will display a message dialog box that will appear
centered on the screen and will display the following text:
Congratulations! June sales were $250!

ANS:
JOptionPane.showMessageDialog(null, "Congratulations! June sales were
$" + storeSales + "!";

PTS: 1 REF: 57-58

4. final int COSTPERITEM = 10;

double sales2012 = amtSold * COSTPERITEM;
 In the above statements, identify the named constant and describe how a programmer can recognize
named constants.

ANS:
The named constant identifier is COSTPERITEM.
Constant declaration statements use the final keyword.
Constants are conventionally given identifiers in all uppercase letters.

PTS: 1 REF: 54-55

5. Write the statement that will declare a char data type named testScore that will hold a letter
grade of your choice.

ANS:
char testScore = ‘A’;

Letter assigned may vary.

PTS: 1 REF: 71

6. public class YourGrade

{
public static void main(String[] args)
{
int projectPoints = 89;
System.out.print("Your grade for this class is ");
System.out.print(projectPoints);
System.out.println("%");
}
}

Given the above code, what will be the output at the command prompt?

ANS:
Output will be as follows:

Your grade for this class is 89%

A blank line will follow the output.

PTS: 1 REF: 56-57

7. Describe the error message that will be produced when the following code is compiled.

public class SalesOct

{
public static void main(String[] args)
{
int salesAmt;
System.out.print("October sales are $");
System.out.println(salesAmt);
}
}
 ANS:
The second println statement will generate an error message because the variable used in the
statement is undeclared. It is legal to declare an uninitialized variable, but it cannot be used in a
println() statement uninitialized. If you assign a numeric value to int salesAmt, the program
will compile.

PTS: 1 REF: 61-62

8. public class EndValue

{
public static void main(String[] args)
{
int aByte = 940;
System.out.print("The ending value is "+ aByte);
}
}

When the above code is compiled, what error message will be generated and why?

ANS:
The above code will result in the error message “possible loss of precision”. The assigned value of 940
to the aByte variable is larger than the maximum value allowed. A byte type can hold a value
between -128 and 127. Thus, the accuracy of the number has been compromised.

PTS: 1 REF: 62-65

9. Why is the following relational operator expression invalid? How could you rewrite the statement so
that it is valid?

boolean isGradePassing = (grade => 70);

ANS:
In this statement, the order of the operator symbols is reversed. It is illegal to use =<, =>, and =!.

The statement could be modified as follows:

boolean isGradePassing = (grade >= 70);

PTS: 1 REF: 68

10. char aCharacter = 2;

int aNumber = '2';

In the above statements, what values will be output after a println() statement is executed? Why
are the output results different for the two statements?

ANS:
aCharacter will output a blank.
aNumber will output a value of 50.

Unicode values are used to assign a unique numeric code. Every computer stores each character it uses
as a number and each character is assigned a unique Unicode numeric value.
 PTS: 1 REF: 71

11. How could you alter the following statement to display “Welcome” on one line and “back” on another
line?

System.out.println("Welcome back");

ANS:
There are two possible options:

System.out.println("Welcome\nback");

and

System.out.println("Welcome");
System.out.println("back");

PTS: 1 REF: 73-74

Other documents randomly have
different content
North likes you to drive that high dog-cart. You will certainly have an
accident some day.”
“Odious woman!” cried Mabel, as the dog-cart dashed down the
road. “How can you endure her, Georgie? She is the very incarnation
of spite.”
“No, no—of hopelessness,” said Georgia. “The climate tries her,
and her children are all being educated at home, and she thinks Mr
Hardy is not appreciated here. Dear old man! I wish you could have
seen him, Mab. He is all patience and cheerfulness, and indeed, it is
a good thing that he has Mrs Hardy to keep him within bounds. All
our people and the native Christians love him, and even the mullahs
who come to argue with him can’t succeed in hating him. His
learning is really wasted up here, and I don’t think he has had more
than six baptisms of converts in the five years we have known him.
We always say that the natives who become Christians here must be
very much in earnest, for Mrs Hardy discourages them so
conscientiously beforehand.”
“Horrid old thing, spoiling her husband’s work!” cried Mabel.
“No, not at all. He has been taken in more than once. And
really, Mab, it is hard for us to urge these people to be baptized. The
persecution is awful.”
“Here—under English rule?”
“Not from us, of course, but from their own people. Two men
have been lured across the frontier and murdered, and another had
a false charge trumped up against him, and only just escaped
hanging. It seems scarcely fair on our part unless we can get them
away to another part of India.”
“Well, Mrs Hardy isn’t exactly a good example of the effects of
Christianity. She is enough to frighten away any number of intending
converts.”
“And yet she is the staunchest friend possible at a pinch. I had
rather have her with me in an emergency than any other woman I
know.”
“That’s because she likes you. She hates me, and would rejoice
to make my life a burden to me. The idea of hinting that I would
betray Dick’s secrets to Mr Burgrave! Wasn’t it infamous? But who is
Bahram Khan?”
“He is the Amir of Nalapur’s nephew, and was intended to
succeed to the throne, but in order to expedite matters he tried to
poison both his uncle and Dick’s predecessor here, who had been
obliged to scold him for some of his doings. The matter could not be
absolutely proved against him, but he thought it well to take refuge
in Ethiopia, and has stayed there ever since. To guard against his
returning, Dick advised the Amir to adopt another nephew, Bahadar
Shah, as his successor, and he did. Bahram Khan is only about
twenty-three now, but he married an Ethiopian lady of rank four
years ago. His poor old mother, who is one of my Nalapur patients,
was very sore at his arranging it without consulting her. She
remained at her brother’s court when her son escaped, for it was
she who saved the lives of the Amir and Sir Henry Gaunt. She
suspected her son’s intentions, and tasted the food prepared for the
banquet he was going to give. It made her very ill, but she gave the
warning, and I was sent for post-haste from Iskandarbagh in time to
save her life. She is a dear, grateful old thing.”
“But do you think Mr Burgrave will let Bahram Khan come
back?”
“Oh no, it’s impossible. But I wish,” added Georgia thoughtfully,
“that I hadn’t been so emphatic in denying it to Mrs Hardy. If
anything happens now, she will know that Dick and the
Commissioner are not in accord.”
“But why shouldn’t she know?”
“Because out here we learn to stick together. Quarrel in private
as much as you like, but present a united front to the foe,” said
Georgia sententiously, as she pulled up before her own verandah.
Two horses, in charge of native grooms, were waiting at the door.
“Our visitors have arrived before us,” said Mabel, and they
hurried into the drawing-room, to find an elderly man of soldierly
appearance and a tall yellow-haired girl waiting patiently for them.
“I’m afraid you will think us very rude for thrusting ourselves
upon you so soon, and at this time of day,” said Miss Graham,
addressing herself to Mabel, after Georgia had apologised for their
absence, “but my father happened to have time to come with me
just now, and I was so very anxious to see you——”
“How sweet of you!” murmured Mabel softly, as the visitor
stopped abruptly.
“Because I want to ask you a favour,” finished Miss Graham. Her
father laughed, and Mabel looked politely interested. “I want you to
be Queen of the Tournament next week instead of me.”
“Oh, Georgie!” cried Mabel; “and you said that life out here was
modern and unromantic! Why, here we are plunged into the Middle
Ages at once.”
“It’s only my daughter’s poetical way of speaking of our annual
gymkhana,” explained Colonel Graham. “She has officiated so often
that she feels shy. The real fact is,” he turned confidentially to
Georgia, “Haycraft has loafed about here so much that he’s
wretchedly stale this year, and Flora can’t bear to give a prize to any
one else.”
“No, no, papa; what a shame!” cried Miss Graham, blushing.
“You see, Miss North, I have really done it a good many times, and
I’m sure everybody would like to see some one new. Besides, I am
engaged, you know, and—and——”
“And it would make it more realistic if the opposing heroes felt
they were really struggling for the Queen’s favour?” said her father.
“Well, that’s easily managed. Intimate to Haycraft that unless he
wins he’ll have to resign you to the successful competitor.”
“But why ask me?” said Mabel.
“Because there’s no one else,” replied Miss Graham quickly. “No,
I don’t mean that; but my father says I ought to ask the
Commissioner to give the prizes, and I don’t like him well enough.
But he couldn’t possibly be offended if I asked you. It’s so obviously
the proper thing.”
“Now, why?” asked Mabel again, and the other girl blushed once
more.
“I saw you yesterday when you rode past our house,” she said
shyly, “and I knew at once that you were the right person.”
Mabel smiled graciously. Such open admiration from one of her
own sex was rare enough to be grateful to her. “I am wondering
what I should wear,” she said. “I have a little muslin frock——”
“Oh!” said Miss Graham, evidently disappointed. “But perhaps—
do you think I might see it?”
“If Georgie and Colonel Graham will excuse us for a moment,”
said Mabel rising, and she led the way to her own room, and
summoned the smiling brown-faced ayah whom she had brought
from Bombay.
“Oh!” cried Flora Graham again, when the “little muslin frock”
was displayed to her, but her tone was not now one of
disappointment. The frock might be little, whatever that term might
mean as applied to a gown, but it was not therefore to be despised.
It was undoubtedly made of muslin, but it had a slip of softest
primrose silk, and the glories of frills and lace and primrose ribbon
which decked it bewildered her eyes. “It is lovely!” she said slowly;
“and look how your ayah appreciates it. I wish mine ever had the
chance of regarding one of my gowns with such reverential
admiration! And what hat will you wear with it?”
“They tried to make me have one swathed in white and
primrose chiffon,” said Mabel indifferently, “but I knew I could never
stand that. I shall wear this one with it.” She indicated a large black
picture hat.
“That will be perfect,” said Miss Graham. “It’s the finishing
touch. Oh, you will—you must—give the prizes. That gown would be
wasted otherwise. You will do it, won’t you?”
Yielding sweetly to the eager entreaties showered upon her,
Mabel consented, and in the talk which followed set herself to gain
an acquaintance with all the gaieties that were to be expected
during the following week. When Georgia came to say that Colonel
Graham was obliged to leave, the two girls were discussing ball
dresses with the keenest interest.

“I can’t make Mabel out,” Georgia said to her husband that

night. “Sometimes she seems in such deadly earnest, and yet she is
as anxious as possible to take part in everything that is going on.”
“But why in the world shouldn’t she be?”
“It’s not that; but I can’t think why she should care for it.”
 “No, I suppose not. You never felt that you must play the fool
for a bit now and then or die, did you, Georgie? But Mab does—has
periodical fits of it, alternating with the deadly earnest. Let her alone
to have her fling. She’ll settle down some day, and it’s not as if it did
any harm.”
But Georgia was not convinced.
 CHAPTER III.
“IN HIS SIMPLICITY SUBLIME.”

“The Major not back from the durbar yet, I suppose, Mrs North?
Have you heard this extraordinary report about Bahram Khan?”
“No, I didn’t know there was any report going about,” answered
Georgia. She was driving Mabel to the club, and had stopped to
speak to the station surgeon, a cheerful little stout man, riding a
frisky pony which danced merrily about the road, while its master
tried in vain to induce it to stand still.
“It’s all over the bazaar, and one of the hospital assistants told
me. They say that the Commissioner means to insist on Bahram
Khan’s being restored to his lands and honours, and to advise poor
old Ashraf Ali strongly to accept him again as his heir.”
“Oh, that gives the whole thing away,” said Georgia, more
cheerfully, “for the Amir’s adoption of Bahadar Shah was recognised
by the Government of India. Was all this to happen to-day, Dr
Tighe?”
“Yes, at this durbar. Quite thrilling, isn’t it? Well, I must be off
on my rounds. When am I to have that game of tennis you promised
me, Miss North?” and the doctor rode away, while Georgia drove on,
with brows drawn into an anxious frown.
“It’s quite impossible,” she said at last, rousing herself. “He
couldn’t spring such a mine upon us. Look, Mab! this is my father’s
old house.”
“But why don’t you live in it?” asked Mabel, looking with much
interest at the flat-roofed building with its massive stone walls and
narrow windows. Georgia laughed.
“Because the accommodation is a little too Spartan for a family,”
she said. “My father prided himself on his powers of roughing it, and
all his young men had to follow his example. Mr Anstruther inhabits
the house at present, in company with the official records, for the
office is large and airy, and Dick uses it still.”
 “I should have thought General Keeling would have lived in the
fort,” said Mabel, as a sharp turn in the road brought them in sight
of the dust-coloured walls and mouldering battlements, crowned
with withered grass, of the old border stronghold.
“Never!” cried Georgia. “The first thing he did on coming here
was to dismantle it. He would never allow either the Khemistan
Horse or his British officers to hide behind walls. Their safety had to
depend on their own watchfulness.”
“He had the courage of his convictions, at any rate.”
“Of course. He never told any one to do what he would not do
himself. He wanted to blow up the fort and destroy it altogether; but
the Government objected in the interests of archæology, so he gave
it to the station for a club-house. There has never been too much
money to spare in Alibad, and people have used it gratefully ever
since.”
“What a delicious old place!” sighed Mabel, as they drove in
through the hospitable gateway, on either side of which the ancient
doors, warped and worm-eaten and paintless, leaned useless against
the wall. The block of buildings which had comprised the chief
apartments of the fort in the wild days before the coming of the
British was now utilised as the club-house, and an inner courtyard
had been ingeniously converted into a tennis-ground. As she passed,
Mabel caught a glimpse through the archway of Flora Graham and
her fiancé, young Haycraft, playing vigorously, but she also noticed
something else.
“Georgie, there’s Mrs Hardy looking out for you.”
“Oh dear!” cried Georgia in a panic, “I can’t meet her just now,
until I know the truth about Bahram Khan. She is waiting to gloat
over me about this horrible rumour, and I can’t stand it. I am going
to take you up to the ramparts, Mab, to see the view.”
She gave the reins to the groom, and, avoiding the reading-
room, in the verandah of which could be discerned Mrs Hardy’s
depressed-looking bonnet, hurried Mabel across the wide courtyard
and up a flight of steps which led to the summit of the western wall.
From this, at some risk to life and limb, they were able to reach one
of the half-ruined towers, which commanded a bird’s-eye view of the
town. The native quarter, with its narrow, crooked alleys and
carefully guarded flat roofs, the lines, painfully neat in the
mathematical symmetry of their rows of white huts, the houses in
the cantonments, embowered in pleasant gardens, were all spread
before them. Beyond the belt of green which marked the limits of
the irrigated land round the town, the desert stretched on the east
and south as far as the eye could see. To the west was a range of
rugged hills, their nearer spurs within rifle-shot of the fort, and to
the north, at a much greater distance, the peaks, at this season
covered with snow, of a considerable mass of mountains.
“That is Nalapur,” said Georgia, pointing to the mountains, “and
beyond it to the eastward is Ethiopia. Our house is the last on British
soil. The corner of the compound exactly touches the frontier line.”
“Then that’s why your father rides past just there?” said Mabel
unthinkingly.
“So the natives say. I rather like to think of him as still guarding
the frontier which he spent his life in defending. It’s a nice idea, I
mean—that’s all. But, Mab, the men are coming back from the
durbar. Look at that dust-cloud, and you will see the light strike on
something shining every now and then. That’s the bravery of their
durbar get-up. We will wait here until they get into the town, and
capture the first that comes this way. I must find out what has
happened.”
They watched the cavalcade enter the town and separate into
its component parts, and presently saw Fitz Anstruther riding up to
the fort. He caught sight of their parasols and waved his hand, but
Georgia dragged Mabel down the steps, and they met him in the
courtyard.
“You’ve heard, then?” he cried, as his eyes fell on Georgia’s
face.
“Only a bazar rumour. Is it true that Bahram Khan——?”
“He is restored to his estates and rank, and recommended by
the Commissioner to the particular favour of his uncle. Burgrave had
him all ready outside the tent, it appears, and after enlarging to the
Amir and the luckless Bahadar Shah on the blessings of family unity,
and the advisability of forgiving and forgetting youthful peccadilloes,
brought him in as a practical embodiment of his words. It was
dramatic—very—but it was playing it awfully low down on us,
especially the Major.”
“Then he knew nothing of it?”
“No more than I did.”
“And Ashraf Ali was willing to take the Commissioner’s advice?”
“He hadn’t much choice. A glance from Major North would have
turned the scale, but you know what the Major is, Mrs North—he will
play fair by his own side, however badly they may have treated him.
He gave him no encouragement to show fight, and Ashraf Ali took a
back seat. It is rather tough to have to receive again into the bosom
of your family an affectionate nephew who has tried to murder you,
isn’t it?”
“But how does the Commissioner get over that little difficulty?”
“Airily ignores it. ‘Not guilty, and won’t do it again,’ is his view.
Every prospect of domestic happiness in the Amir’s family circle in
future.”
“Where is Dick now?” asked Georgia suddenly.
“I rather think he has gone to have it out with the Kumpsioner
Sahib. He was horribly sick, and who can wonder?”
“I really think,” said Mabel, quite inconsequently, “that if I
couldn’t pick up my own balls I wouldn’t play tennis.”
They were sitting in the verandah overlooking the tennis-court,
and it was the sight of the squad of small boys in uniform who were
being kept hard at work by the three men now playing that had
called forth the remark.
“We get so slack with the climate,” pleaded Fitz.
“Well, I don’t intend to let those boys pick up my balls when I
play.”
“They won’t have the chance, Miss North. We should simply
massacre them if they attempted it. Oh, here’s the Major—and the
Commissioner!”
Dick was still in uniform, and the man who emerged with him
from under the archway was quite thrown into the shade by his
magnificence, but the contrast did not appear to afflict Mr Burgrave,
even if he noticed it. He crossed the shadowed court with slow,
deliberate steps, apparently unaware that he was interrupting the
game, talking all the time to Dick, who listened courteously, but
without conviction.
“What a curious face it is!” muttered Georgia involuntarily, as
the Commissioner stepped into the line of light cast by a lamp in one
of the rooms.
“Yes, doesn’t he look the pig-headed brute he is?” was the
joyful response of Fitz, who had overheard her.
“No, that’s not it. He looks obstinate enough, but there is
something benevolent about the face—nothing cruel or mean. It’s
the face of a fanatic.”
“Oh no, Mrs North! There’s bound to be something good about
even a fanatic at bottom, I suppose. Won’t you say a doctrinaire?”
“If you prefer it. I mean a man who has formed certain
opinions, and allows neither facts nor arguments to prevent his
forcing them upon other people.”
“Ah, Mrs North!” The Commissioner was bowing before Georgia
with the somewhat exaggerated courtesy which, combined with his
paternal manner, caused impatient young people to brand his
demeanour as patronising. “And are you very much incensed against
me for keeping your husband so busy all day?”
He sat down beside her as he spoke, taking little notice of
Mabel, and devoted himself to her for ten minutes or more, while
Dick went into the club-house to speak to some one. To Mabel, as to
Georgia, it appeared as if Mr Burgrave’s condescension towards
Dick’s wife was intended to disarm any resentment that might have
been aroused in her mind by his treatment of Dick that day,
although it was not easy to see why he should take so much trouble.
It was Fitz on whom the true comedy of the situation dawned at
last, rendering him speechless with secret delight. The Commissioner
was an adept in the mental exercise known as reading between the
lines, and he had formulated his own explanation of the
unconventional manner in which Mabel had made her appearance
upon the stage of Khemistan. Jealous of her sister-in-law’s good
looks, and the attention she attracted, Georgia had refused to invite
her to pay a visit to Alibad, and the poor girl’s only chance had been
to take matters into her own hands. Too considerate to expose
Mabel to the risk of incurring the reproaches of her family circle, Mr
Burgrave would talk to Georgia long enough to put her into a good
temper before he gratified his own inclinations. His reward came
when Georgia rose and remarked that it was time to go home, for
guessing that Dick would be driving his wife, he lost no time in
offering Mabel a seat in his dog-cart. As for Mabel, she accepted the
offer joyfully. Her hasty determination to give Mr Burgrave a lesson
had deepened by this time into the deliberate intention of fascinating
him into laying aside his distrust of Dick.
“What an interesting day you must have had!” she began
guilefully, as soon as they started. “I wish ladies were admitted to
durbars.”
“They are, sometimes, but I fancy”—the Commissioner smiled
down at her—“that there is not very much business done on those
occasions.”
“Oh, then to-day’s was really a serious affair? Do tell me what
you did.”
“I am afraid it would hardly interest you.”
“Indeed it would. I am interested in everything that interests my
friends.”
Mr Burgrave’s smile became positively grandfatherly. “I thought
so!” he said. “No, Miss North, I won’t allow you to sacrifice yourself
by talking shop to me. To tell you the truth, it doesn’t interest me—
out of office-hours—and therefore I am the last person in the world
to inflict it upon you. I am sure you hear so much of it all day that
you are as tired of the subject as I am of the revered name of
General Keeling.”
“What, have you been hearing more about him?”
Mr Burgrave groaned. “Have I not! Michael Angelo was nothing
to him. I always knew that he founded Alibad and dug its wells,
planted the trees and constructed the canals—made Khemistan, in
short. But now I am the unhappy recipient of endless personal
anecdotes about him. One man tells me that he used to go about in
the sun without a head-covering of any kind, trusting to the
thickness of his hair—if it was not rude, I should say of his skull.
Then comes one of his old troopers, and assures me solemnly that
after a battle he has seen Sinjāj Kīlin unbutton his tunic and shake
out the bullets which had passed through it without hurting him.
Another remembers that he has seen him reading a letter from his
wife while under fire—rather a pretty touch that—and another recalls
for my admiration the fact that the General reserved an hour every
morning for his private devotions, and has been known to keep the
Commander-in-Chief waiting rather than allow it to be broken in
upon.”
“But he was a splendid man,” said Mabel, ashamed of herself for
laughing.
“Who doubts it? Only too splendid;—I understand the feelings
of the gentleman who banished Aristides. But forgive me for
lamenting my private woes to you, Miss North. Let us turn to more
interesting themes. We are to see you in an appropriate rôle on
Saturday, Miss Graham tells me.”
“I believe I am to give away the prizes at the Gymkhana—
unless you would prefer to do it,” said Mabel, with sudden primness.
“I should not think of such a thing unless it would be a relief to
you.”
“To me? I shall enjoy the prize-giving above all things. But
why?”
“I imagined you might feel shy.” Mr Burgrave looked at her as
kindly as ever, but Mabel fancied that he was disappointed in her in
some way.
“He seems to think I am about sixteen,” she said to herself, and
awoke to the fact that they had reached home, and that her
companion had skilfully prevented her from saying a word about the
question of the moment.

“Dick,” said Georgia to her husband, when she was alone with
him that evening, “did you get any explanation out of Mr Burgrave?”
“I did—without asking for it. He told me quite calmly that the
reinstatement of Bahram Khan was part of his programme, and that
as I had taken such a strong line with regard to the youth’s
banishment, he considered it better to relieve me of all responsibility
about it. It would be pleasanter for both of us, he thought.”
“Pleasanter for you and him in your social relations, perhaps;
but your prestige with the natives, Dick! What do they think?”
“Why, they gloat, most of ’em,” said Dick grimly.
“But the Amir and Bahadar Shah?”
“Oh, poor old Ashraf Ali sent his pet mullah to interview me
while the Commissioner was taking an affectionate leave of his
protégé. The old man really thought, or pretended to think, that I
had a hand in the matter. Why hadn’t I told him that I desired
Bahram Khan’s return instead of springing it upon him in that way?
he wanted to know. Had he ever refused to take my advice? I had to
assure him that I knew no more about it than he did, for if he once
loses confidence in me, it means that we may as well retire from the
frontier. Neither he nor the Sardars will stand a second spell of
snubbing and suspicion.”
“But what did you advise him to do?”
“To choose the lesser of two evils. Bahram Khan will plot
wherever he is, and Burgrave has pledged himself to see his father’s
fortress of Dera Gul restored to him, but I advised the Amir strongly
to keep him under his own eye at the capital. In any case we shall
have one friend in the enemy’s camp, for the good old Moti-ul-Nissa
sent a message by the mullah, ‘Tell the doctor lady’s husband that
where my son goes I go from henceforth, and that no harm shall be
devised against the Sarkar if I can prevent it.’”
“Dear old thing!” cried Georgia.
“But it’s not so much a rising that I’m afraid of at present.
Bahram Khan will get the smaller obstacles out of his way first. Poor
Bahadar Shah, who is no hero, sent to ask me by the mullah
whether I would advise him to throw up his pretensions and retire
into British territory. Of course I told him to sit tight, but no
insurance office that respected itself would look at his life after to-
day. And, Georgie, I am very much mistaken if Burgrave has not got
worse in store for us.”
“Dick! what could there be worse?” Georgia’s face was
blanched.
 “I have a presentiment—call it a conviction, if you like—that
they mean to withdraw the subsidy, and Ashraf Ali has got hold of
the idea too.”
“But, Dick, that would be a direct breach of faith! They couldn’t
do it—they couldn’t! The treaty that really cost my father his life, he
had such trouble to get it ratified! Why, it has kept the frontier safe
all these years——”
“My dear Georgie, that’s not what Burgrave and his school think
about. You know as well as I do that this province is an anomaly,
and has got to be reduced to the level of next-door. When Ashraf Ali
received the subsidy, he accepted our suzerainty over Nalapur, and
according to his lights he has acted up to his obligations. But our
present rulers don’t care to keep the suzerainty, don’t care for a
vassal state outside our boundaries, and do care for economising
rupees.”
“But surely they must know——”
“That they will throw Ashraf Ali into the arms of Ethiopia, and
extend Scythian influence down to our very borders, thanks to the
way in which Fath-ud-Din has been allowed practically to repudiate
Sir Dugald Haigh’s treaty? Why, Georgie, that’s just the sort of thing
these fellows never see until it comes to pass. Then they lament that
the world is so dreadfully out of joint, and say it all springs from our
ingrained suspiciousness.”
“But, Dick, you wouldn’t countenance such a breach of faith?”
“No, I told Ashraf Ali so—told him he would hear of my
resignation first. Funny thing, isn’t it, to take a man who knows the
frontier as I do, and let him give five of the best years of his life to
working for it night and day, and then to send a jack-in-office who
has never seen it to reverse all he’s done? It’s a queer world,
Georgie. But we’ll retire with clean hands, at any rate, you and I,
and taste the modest joys of the pensioned in a suburban flat, with
a five-pound note at Christmas-time from Mab and her
Commissioner to help us along.”
Georgia could not trust herself to speak. She was holding Dick’s
hand in hers, and smoothing his coat-cuff industriously.
 “Well, never say die!” he went on. “I may get a berth in some
Colonial defence force yet, and from that giddy height we’ll smile
superior upon a jeering world, serenely conscious that we can do
without the five-pound note.”
At one time Georgia would not have lost a moment in reminding
him that she could in any case return to the active practice of her
profession, but now she would not even suggest to Dick that last
humiliation of living upon his wife’s earnings. Instead, she lifted his
hand to her lips.
“We shan’t mind poverty, dear. We shall have been true to our
people, and besides, your resignation may save the frontier. It will
come out why you retired, and when once the reason is known,
public opinion will be roused, and the Government will have to
return to the old policy, even though we may not be here to carry it
out. But oh, Dick, how can you speak civilly to Mr Burgrave after
this?”
“Why, Georgie, the difficulty would be to speak uncivilly to him.
The man is so wrapt up in his own greatness that he can’t imagine
any one’s venturing to differ from him. He sweeps on like a glacier,
removing all obstacles by his mere passage. The stones and rocks
and things get carried along too, you know, whether they like it or
not, and when the glacier has done with them it dumps them down
in a neat heap, that’s all. Besides, we have to give Mab her chance.”
“If Mab marries him, I have done with her,” said Georgia, with
conviction.

During the next fortnight the house was overrun by a horde of

Christmas guests, who came from outlying forts and irrigation and
telegraph stations to taste the joys of civilisation for three or four
days, hurrying back like conscientious Cinderellas at a given
moment, that the other man might have his turn. Mabel was
immensely interested in these lads, who looked up to Dick with frank
veneration, and sought for quiet talks with Georgia that they might
tell her all their home news, and kept the house lively from early
morning until their host reluctantly suggested that it was time for
them to repair to their improvised bedrooms at night. Her interest
did not go unrequited, for she had them all at her feet, regulating
her favours so discreetly that none of them could complain that he
was worse treated than his neighbour, and at the same time no one
had undue cause for self-congratulation.
“I know you think I shall lose my head, Georgie,” she said, on
the evening of Christmas Day, when she and Georgia had left the
men to their nightly smoke; “and I really believe I should if it lasted.
These boys are all so splendid. Each of them is a hero in the
ordinary course of his day’s work, but he never thinks of it, and no
one out here thinks of it, and at home no one even knows their
names. How is it that all the men out here are so nice? The women,
as far as I have seen, are distinctly inferior.”
“So sorry,” said Georgia humbly. “Perhaps we were born so.”
“Goose! I didn’t mean you. I meant the ordinary Anglo-Indian
woman. With so many delightful men about, she ought to be
proportionately better than at home.”
“Perhaps it’s just possible that the delightful men spoil her, Mab.
What do you think?”
Mabel laughed consciously, as she reclined in a long chair, with
her arms behind her head. “You mean that I have deteriorated
perceptibly already, I suppose? But that must be the men’s fault. If
their admiration is the right kind, it ought to elevate me, surely?
Now don’t say that I trade on their honest admiration to flatter my
self-love. I’m sick of that sort of thing. Besides, it’s a pleasure to
them to admire me, and I consider that it does them good. I am a
liberal education for them.”
“How nice it must be to feel that!”
“Yes, and I really am awfully fond of them, every one. I should
like them all to win to-morrow. I can’t bear the thought that only
one or two of them can get prizes; I shall feel so unfair. Georgie,
what are you going to wear? Oh—” she sat up suddenly, with eyes
wide with horror, “what a wretch I am! Georgie, I never remembered
your dresses when I was so busy getting my own. I haven’t brought
you a single one.”
“I guessed that some days ago,” said Georgia.
 “Oh, how wicked of me! Take one of mine, Georgie—any of
them—even the muslin. I deserve it.”
“I should look like a death’s head at a feast, indeed! Nonsense,
Mab! I shall wear my red and white foulard.”
“The one I sent you out two years ago? Oh, it will be too
dreadful! Sleeves and everything have altered since then. Besides,
every one will know it.”
“What does that signify? It is quite fresh, and suits me very
well. No one will remember it—not even Dick.”
But in this Georgia was mistaken. When she appeared the next
morning, her husband looked suspiciously from her to Mabel.
“Didn’t you wear that dress last year, Georgie? I thought you
were going to get a new one. Why don’t you have something floppy
and frilly, like Mab?”
“Mab is a perfect dream,” said Georgia. “No amount of trains or
fichus could make me look like her. You are very ungrateful, Dick.
Who ever heard of a man’s quarrelling with his wife before for saving
him a dressmaker’s bill?”
“I’ve a good mind to telegraph home at once,” grumbled Dick.
“But what good would that be for to-day? Never mind. I’ll get
something terribly elaborate for next Christmas.”
“Oh, Georgie, how good of you not to give me away!”
murmured Mabel, as Dick went out, grumbling, to see whether the
dog-cart was ready. “But I can’t help being glad you didn’t take this
gown. I don’t think I could have given it up.”
 CHAPTER IV.
THE OUTSIDER.

“Have you heard the latest, Miss North?” asked Fitz Anstruther, as he
escorted Mabel to the scene of action. The five men who were
staying in the house had nearly come to blows in deciding who
ought to enjoy this privilege, but Fitz had stepped in and
disappointed them all equally by the calm announcement that it was
his by right. Officially he was Major North’s deputy, and it was only
fair that the pleasures as well as the duties of the post should
devolve upon him. The justice of the contention was grudgingly
admitted, and Fitz was the proudest man in Alibad when he drove to
the ground that morning in his smart new buggy, with Mabel, the
glories of her gown hidden by a tussore dust-cloak, seated beside
him.
“No. What has the Commissioner done now?” she asked.
“Bahram Khan has entered his name for the Keeling Cup!”
“And that is equivalent to saying that the sky has fallen?”
Fitz regarded her pityingly. “You don’t see it as we do,” he said.
“Wait until you have been out a little longer. It seems that in order to
cement the reconciliation he has brought about, the Commissioner
saw fit to invite the Nalapur Princes to honour us with their presence
to-day. The Amir and Bahadar Shah didn’t quite see themselves
figuring in the triumphal procession, and both discovered that they
had urgent business at home. But Bahram Khan duly turned up last
night with his train of attendants, and is condescending enough to
join us in our sports to-day. The Commissioner has a theory that in
such mimic warfare as this the fusion of the English and native races
proceeds apace, and Bahram Khan is doing his best to gratify him by
poking himself into the race for the Keeling Cup—our very tiptop,
crack, pucca event!”
“But did General Keeling patronise races? I shouldn’t have
thought they were at all in his line.”
 “They were not; but then, this isn’t a race in the ordinary sense
of the word. It was first run just at the time when everything in
Khemistan was named after him, and besides, it recalls one of his
own pet dodges. They say that he used to subject the men that
wanted to serve under him to pretty severe tests, and this was one
of them. He used to rouse them up in the middle of the night, and
they had to turn out without boots, catch a strange horse, and ride
him round the town without a saddle, and with only a halter for a
bridle.”
“It’s to be hoped that the town was smaller in those days than
now?”
“Of course it was, but we don’t exact such a test as that. The
ponies are all turned loose on the course without saddles, and the
men, in slippers, have to catch them and mount. Any man who
catches his own is disqualified. Then they have to get them round
the course without bridle or whip of any kind. I have noticed that the
spectators are always pretty nearly dead with laughing before the
end, while the competitors get black in the face with restrained
emotion.”
“But you don’t mean that General Keeling really treated his
officers in that way?”
“I do, indeed. He had to weed them out, you see, or he would
have been overrun with volunteers. Oh, you may have full
confidence in my veracity, Miss North, even though I once had a
report returned me by a jealous Secretary with the remark that I
should do well to quit the Civil Service for the path of romantic
fiction. The pains I took over that report! You see, I had an inkling
that it would be seen by a very exalted person, who is great on us
juniors’ cultivating a literary style in our official writings. I can truly
say that there has never been such a literary gem sent in since
Macaulay left India. It was written in the most beautiful English—
though I say it—full of tender touches and delicate conceits, and as
to quotations, and Oriental imagery, and wealth of imaginative detail
——! Ah well, it’s better not to think of it,” and Fitz sighed deeply.
“Why? Did it bring down upon you a rebuke from the Great
Great One?”
 “No, alas! for it never reached him. The Secretary intercepted it,
naturally enough. Who would ever have looked at his minutes again
after it? But at least it furnished him with an ideal to strive after. I
have reason to believe he is in a lunatic asylum at this moment. The
effort was too great, you see.”
“That was rather close,” said Mabel irrelevantly, as the wheel
shaved the basketwork tray of an itinerant sweetseller by the
roadside.
“He shouldn’t be so intent on his prospective gains. Look how
many of the fellows there are about! That shows we are near the
ground. They flock to this place from all quarters when they know
there’s a tamasha on.”
They had reached the enclosure by this time, and Mabel found
herself surrounded by an admiring throng. Pale-faced ladies from
other stations glanced at her dress casually, and continued to gaze
long and fixedly, her Alibad admirers brought up friends to be
introduced, and both the old slaves and the new displayed a keen
anxiety to post themselves for the day in the neighbourhood of her
chair. With the exception of the race for the Keeling Cup, the sports
were wholly military in character, and the programme was a lengthy
one, but Mabel did not find the hours pass slowly. Everything was
new and interesting, from the splendid native officers, with fierce
eyes gleaming under enormous turbans, who dashed up on fiery
steeds and bore away triumphantly an unresisting tent-peg, to the
latest recruit who exhibited his coolness by holding out his bare
hand, with what Mabel considered privately an excess of confidence,
for his daffadar to cut a lemon upon it. There was the inner circle of
troopers of the Khemistan Horse, reinforced to-day by such veterans
as old Ismail Bakhsh and his fellow-chaprasis, keenly critical, but
above all things solicitous for the honour of the regiment. There
were the notables of the district, grave and bearded men in flowing
robes, who looked as though they might have sat for a gallery of
Scriptural portraits, but who exhibited an anxious deference when
Dick glanced their way, which suggested that their relation with him
in the past had occasionally been that of criminals and judge. At the
farther side of the course was the motley throng of dwellers in the
native town, and hangers-on of the cantonments, with faces of
every shade of brown, and clothes and turbans of every variety of
colour. And lastly, close at hand, there was the little group of English,
not taking their pleasure sadly, for once, but making the most of the
rare opportunity for the exchange of news and opinions. The
Commissioner was the centre of attraction here, naturally enough, or
at least, he shared the general attention with Mabel; but she was
quite aware, as she met his benevolent smile, that he was making
her a graceful present of a portion of the homage due to himself.
The last event but one upon the programme was the tug-of-war
between six men of the Khemistan Horse and six of the Sikhs who
formed the Commissioner’s escort—a contest which was fought out
with the greatest obstinacy, but in which the visiting team finally
secured the victory, to the unconcealed lamentation and resentment
of the local representatives and their friends. The triumphant Sikhs
found no sympathisers except among the sahib-log, and the English
applause was cut short by the necessity of preparing for the last
race, in which it was a point of honour for every man to take part
who could possibly do so.
“A solemn sacrifice to the memory of the adored General
Keeling!” said Mr Burgrave in a low voice to Mabel, as they watched
their late companions assembling upon the course.
“Oh, but what is that native doing?” cried Mabel, forgetting
what she had heard only that morning, as a tall lithe man, wearing
the green turban of a descendant of the Prophet, stepped out from
the group of notables and joined the competitors.
“That,” was the bland answer, “is Bahram Khan, hitherto the
bugbear of the frontier; henceforth, I hope, our friend and ally.”
“I don’t like to see him there. He spoils the look of it,” she said
impulsively.
“Bahram Khan offends your eye? Ah, Miss North, you must
pardon a poor statesman the dulness of his perceptions! I am no
authority upon æsthetic questions, I must confess, whereas you—
well, you could scarcely not be one.”
A smile emphasised the compliment, and Mabel turned away
rather hastily, and addressed a casual remark to Flora Graham.
Compliments were all very well, but she did not approve of the
adroit way in which Mr Burgrave repressed her whenever she
touched on political subjects. Flora had no eyes for any one but Fred
Haycraft at the moment, however, and Mabel was obliged to turn her
attention to the course. The signal for starting was given just then,
and there ensued a wild mêlée of men and horses, the men as eager
to mount as the horses were determined not to be mounted by any
one but their own masters. Presently one or two successful athletes
forced their way out of the scrimmage, and by degrees most of the
competitors secured a mount of some kind, but some were still
vainly struggling when the foremost appeared round the curve of the
course.
“Oh dear, he has no chance!” wailed Flora, referring to her
fiancé, who was one of these unfortunates. “That’s Bahram Khan’s
pony he has got, and of course it won’t let a white man mount it.
Well, every one must see that it isn’t his fault. Oh, he’s up at last!”
But this tardy triumph was of little avail, for just as Fred
Haycraft urged his unwilling steed on its way, Bahram Khan,
mounted on the bay pony which was the especial pride of Fitz
Anstruther’s heart, trotted gently past the winning-post. The
absence of hurry, as the luckless Fitz remarked afterwards, was at
once the finest and the most irritating part of the performance.
“The nigger’s won!” remarked a grizzled old officer who had
served under General Keeling, in blank amazement, and as the truth
of his words broke upon those around him, they were received with
a low whistle of dismay. The Commissioner, who had himself led the
applause in which the rest were too much stunned to join, glanced
round sharply, and at the same moment Mabel found Dick at her
side.
“Look here, Mab. You’d better ask the Commissioner to give the
prizes. I never thought of this. These fellows are not like us—they
don’t understand things. Get into a back seat quickly, without any
fuss.”
Mabel stared at him blankly. She was to relinquish her part in
the events of the day, the glorious hour to which she had been
looking forward for more than a week, to disappoint all her admirers,
and hide herself and her gown where no one could see them! But
Dick’s face was adamant, and he repeated his order peremptorily,
until she rose and moved reluctantly towards the Commissioner,
touching him on the arm.
“My brother says I had better ask you to distribute the prizes,”
she said, with disappointment in every tone. Mr Burgrave looked at
her in astonishment, then his face took a harder set as his eyes fell
on Georgia, who was endeavouring to console Flora for her lover’s ill
success. Of course it was her doing! A faded woman in a gown that
might have been new two seasons ago—how could she be otherwise
than jealous of the radiant vision at his side? “And no wonder, poor
thing!” said Mr Burgrave to himself, with contemptuous pity, but she
must learn that it would not do to make mischief where her beautiful
young sister-in-law was concerned.
“My dear Miss North,” the Commissioner’s voice took on its most
fatherly tone, “don’t be afraid. Nothing would induce me to rob you
of your pleasure.”
The words were loud enough for Dick to hear, and Mabel saw
him frown angrily as she returned to her place, half-proud and half-
afraid of her triumph. He said nothing, however, but took his stand
immediately behind her, the very embodiment of silent displeasure.
The sense of his disapproval served to irritate her further, and she
heartily wished him away. His rigid face would quite spoil the effect
of the picture she had intended to present, and he was taking up the
room of other people whose attendance she would have preferred.
But she was determined not to give in, even when the
Commissioner’s encouraging smile smote her with a feeling of
treachery, in that she had appealed to him against Dick.
The regimental prize-winners came up in their order, the
natives, now that the momentary excitement was over, wearing a
look of stately boredom, which seemed to declare that sports and
prizes alike were a species of child’s play, in which they took part
merely to humour the unaccountable whims of their officers. With
the officers it was different, for Mabel read in their faces that
although sports were good, and to earn a prize was better, both
these faded into insignificance compared with the joy of receiving
that prize from her hand. This was the very feeling that it most
pleased her to inspire, and she loved the “boys,” as she called them
in her thoughts, better than before, if that were possible.
But this glow of pleasure was shortlived. A brief pause followed
the appearance of the Sikh head-man to receive the tug-of-war
prize, and Mabel felt, without turning her head, that Dick’s silent
disapproval had infected all the Englishmen around. Once more she
hardened her heart. It was detestable to see this wretched racial
snobbishness in the men she had admired so much. They would
have liked to spoil the whole affair, and deprive her of the one piece
of romance which had come to brighten the humdrum proceedings,
rather than allow a native not belonging to the regiment to carry off
a prize. She, at least, was above such petty considerations, and
Bahram Khan should receive as gracious a smile as any of his fellow-
competitors. One other person was of her mind, she saw, for the
Commissioner clapped his hands lightly, and with infinite
condescension, as Bahram Khan swaggered up. Mabel stepped
forward, and met the glance of the bold eyes under the green
turban. As she did so, she understood suddenly the secret of Dick’s
displeasure. The smile faded from her lips, and the hand in which
she held the Keeling Cup trembled. She stopped and faltered, and
her pause of distress was evident to the men behind her. How they
responded to her mute appeal she could not tell, but the look of
insolent admiration disappeared from Bahram Khan’s eyes, into
which she was still gazing spell-bound, and was, as it were, veiled
under his former expression of contemptuous indifference towards
his surroundings. A few words from the Commissioner, and the
Nalapur Prince retired, leaving behind him a general feeling of
awkwardness. If it had been arranged that anything else was to be
done at this point, no one remembered it. People stood about in
little groups, and talked somewhat constrainedly. Something had
happened, or rather, there had been an electrical instant, and
something might have happened, but it was not quite easy to see
what it was. The crudest conception of the facts was voiced by Mrs
Hardy, who had torn herself from her school-work to be present at
the prize-giving, and now seized upon Georgia.
 “MABEL STEPPED FORWARD, AND MET THE GLANCE OF THE BOLD
EYES UNDER THE GREEN TURBAN”

“Oh, dear Mrs North, how unspeakably painful all this must be
to you and your husband! You must feel the charge of Miss North a
dreadful responsibility. I would never have said a word while she
flirted merely with our own officers, or even with Mr Burgrave—
though really the lengths to which she goes—! But to set herself
deliberately to dazzle a native——”
“Mrs Hardy,” cried Georgia, flushing angrily, “please remember
that you are speaking of my sister. I am certain that Mabel has never
dreamt of such a thing. She may be thoughtless, but that is all.”
“It is very sweet and good of you to say it, but I am afraid your
eyes will soon be disagreeably opened. No rational being could
doubt that Miss North is setting her cap at the Commissioner, and
that would hardly be a match you could welcome, would it? Look at
her dress—so absurdly unsuitable at her age. Oh, I know to a day
how old she is, Mrs North, and I will say that eight years between
you don’t warrant your dressing as if you were mother and daughter.
But I grant that Miss North is one of the people who always look
younger than they are, while you invariably look older.”
The expression of Mrs Hardy’s sympathy rarely corresponded
with the good-will which prompted it, but Georgia received the stab
in heroic silence, and cast about for some means of changing the
subject.
“I suppose we may as well go home now,” she said at last in
despair, rising as she spoke. “Where is my husband, I wonder?”
“Over there, talking to the Commissioner and Bahram Khan,”
responded Mrs Hardy. “Dear me! something must have happened.
There is a messenger who seems to have brought some news. How
grave they all look! What can it be?”
Watching eagerly, they saw Bahram Khan take his leave of Mr
Burgrave and Dick and rejoin his friends. As the two gentlemen
returned to the rest of the company the Commissioner said, slightly
raising his tones in a way that attracted general attention, “Well,
except for the sake of the poor fellow himself, I can’t pretend to be
sorry. The way is now clear for important developments.”
Dick’s reply was inaudible, but the Commissioner rejoined
sharply, “Of course you put this down to Bahram Khan’s account?”
“I make no accusations,” said Dick, unmoved. “You can’t
perceive more clearly than I do that it’s impossible to connect him
with it.”
“You deal in ambiguities, I see.” Mr Burgrave’s temper was
evidently ruffled.
“There is no ambiguity in my mind,” was the reply, as Dick
beckoned to a servant to fetch up his dog-cart. “Are you coming with
me, Georgie, or shall I take Mabel?”
“Oh no, Mr Anstruther will drive her home,” said Georgia, aghast
at the thought of an encounter between Dick in his present mood
and Mabel at her prickliest. “Dick,” as the Commissioner turned to
speak to Mrs Hardy, “what has happened?”
“Hush! speak lower. Bahadar Shah is dead.”
“What! poisoned?”
“No, shot. He was out hunting, and one of his most trusted
servants was carrying his spare gun loaded. As he handed it to him
it went off, and Bahadar Shah was shot through the heart.”
“And what happened to the servant?”
“The rest fell upon him and clubbed him to death immediately.”
“But of course it was Bahram Khan’s doing?”
“’Sh! He has established a satisfactory alibi, at any rate.” Dick
helped Georgia into the cart and took the reins, and they were well
on the road home before he spoke again. “It is the killing of the
servant that’s the most suspicious feature to me. It would be just
like Bahram Khan to bribe him to murder his master on the
understanding that his escape should be secured, and then to make
matters safe by bribing the rest to put him out of the way.”
“But surely that would only involve admitting more into the
secret?”
“What secret? Bahram Khan is anxious for his cousin’s safety,
and charges the servants to show no mercy to any one that attacks
him. The utmost you could prove against him would be an idea that
an attempt on his life might be made—not even a guilty knowledge,
far less instigation.”
“How did he receive the news?”
“In the most orthodox way, deep but restrained grief. He must
go to Nalapur to be present at the funeral and comfort his bereaved
uncle, he told Burgrave, just as if his uncle would not sooner see a
man-eater come to comfort him. How Burgrave received the news,
you heard.”
“Yes. His manner was indecently callous, I thought.”
“Oh no. His saying what he did was one of his calculated
indiscretions, like unveiling his policy to Timson coming up. No
papers here, you see, so he must make his revelations by word of
mouth. Ugh! the man turns me sick. Did you notice his bit of by-play
with Mab?”
 “She didn’t realise what you meant, Dick. Things here are so
new to her, you know.”
“Oh, why should a man be doomed to have a fool for a sister? If
I had said to you what I said to her you would have understood.”
“Perhaps Mab hasn’t studied you as closely as I have.”
“No, the Commissioner is her object of study at present. Nice
cheerful prospect, isn’t it—to have that chap for a brother-in-law?”
“Ye-es,” said Georgia hesitatingly, “but I’m not quite sure it will
be that, Dick. I think there’s some one else.”
“And the Commissioner is only making the pace for him? No, no,
Georgie; that’s a little too thick. Of course I know there are dozens
of others, but who is there that has a chance against Burgrave?”
“If I tell you, you’ll only laugh. It is a very little thing, but it’s the
straw to show which way the wind is blowing. You didn’t notice,
when Bahram Khan had had his prize, how Mab was left sitting alone
for a minute. I knew just how she felt, ashamed and miserable and
wounded, and I wanted to go to her, but Mrs Hardy had got hold of
me, and I didn’t think she would improve matters. The
Commissioner didn’t see—he never does see what other people are
feeling, unless he happens to be feeling the same himself—but Fitz
Anstruther did. He was by her side in a moment, saying just the kind
of things that would lead her to forget her mortification. If he had
seemed to intend to help her, she would have been angry, but it
looked quite accidental, as if it was simply that he took pleasure in
her society, and jumped at the chance of enjoying it when he found
her alone for a minute. She will be grateful to him ever after, and
that may be the beginning of even better things.”
“Oh, you match-makers! The idea of coupling Mab and
Anstruther, of all people! And you back him against the
Commissioner?”
“I do; unless Mab is deliberately playing for a high official
future.”
 CHAPTER V.
ROSE OF THE WORLD.

“Awfully sorry, Mab, but I really can’t ride with you this morning. It’s
bad enough when one of our wandering tribes comes in for a
palaver, but to-day there are two of them, at daggers drawn with
one another. They have both sent deputations to inform me that I
am their father and their mother, and will I be good enough to
pulverise the other lot? That means that I have a nice long day’s
work cut out for me.”
“Oh, what a bother!” grumbled Mabel. “And Georgia has got a
lot of dreadful women in the surgery, and is doctoring them all
round. How can she bear to have them about? Do you like having an
M.D. for a wife, Dick?”
“Personally,” said Dick solemnly, “I rather do; since Georgia is
that M.D. Politically, it’s the making of me.”
“No; really?”
“Rather! Every woman of all these nomadic tribes has a stake in
the country, so to speak—a personal interest in the maintenance of
the system of government which has stuck Georgie and me down
here. No Sarkar, no doctor; that’s the way they look at it.”
“Well,” said Mabel, somewhat ashamed, “if it wasn’t that I have
my habit on, I would stay and help her. But we were going to try
Laili, Dick, and you promised faithfully to come.”
“I know; it’s horribly rough on you. But I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll
spare Anstruther to you for the morning, and he must ride out to me
after lunch. Don’t break his neck first, mind.”
“But will it be safe for you to go alone? Aren’t you afraid?”
“Shade of my mighty father-in-law! afraid of what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It sounds the sort of thing——”
“That one would naturally be afraid of? No, I would rather face
any number of excited tribesmen than Burgrave at his blandest. I’ll
send a chit down to Anstruther, and he’ll be here in a few minutes.”
 Mabel had not long to wait. She was still standing on the
verandah, flicking her dainty riding-boot with her whip, and feasting
her eyes on the satin skin of the beautiful little black mare which
was being led up and down by the groom, when Fitz came trotting
up the drive.
“Awfully good of the Major to lend me out this morning, Miss
North! Is that the new pony? She ought to be a flier.”
“Yes, isn’t she a little beauty? I want to test her paces to-day. I
have had enough of riding her about the roads. She’s all right there,
but I should like to try her in a good gallop out in the desert.”
“Out in the desert?” repeated Fitz, as he gathered up the reins
and handed them to Mabel after mounting her. “Well, I don’t
suppose there’s any reason why we shouldn’t. If you don’t mind
stopping a second at my place I’ll put a revolver in my pocket, and
then we shall be all right.”
“Why, what could there be to hurt us?”
“We might happen upon a leopard, or something of the sort. It’s
not likely, but there’s no harm in being prepared. We have a sort of
fashion here of not going much beyond our own bounds unarmed.”
Mabel made no further objection, and after calling at Fitz’s
quarters they rode out into the desert. Laili’s paces were perfect,
and as often as Mabel raced her against Fitz’s pony she won easily.
It was a clear, cold morning, really cold, as is often the case early on
a winter’s day in Khemistan, and horses and riders alike seemed to
be possessed of tireless energy. The two grooms, to whom the cold
was a highly disagreeable experience, were left behind again and
again, and remembered only when they had become mere dots on
the horizon, so that it involved some waiting before they could come
up.
“Now let us race again!” cried Mabel, when she and Fitz had
reluctantly walked their horses for some distance to allow the men
to approach them.
“All right. I say, there’s a jerboa! Let’s chase him!”
“Oh, do. I should so like to have one for a pet,” cried Mabel.
It seemed, however, that the jerboa preferred freedom to
captivity, even with Mabel as jailer, for it was gone in a moment,
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