He had just decided to chance his welcome and go, when a note was brought to him which proved to be from Will himself.

    “DEAR OLD NICK,” it ran,—­“I have been wanting to shake your
    hand ever since I heard of your gallant return from the jaws
    of death.  Well done, old chap, if it isn’t a stale sentiment!

“Will you come and dine with us?  Do thy diligence, for though we are neither of us the best of company, we both want you.  The doctor has ordered Daisy and the youngster home.  They are to leave before the chota-bursat.  Damn the chota-bursat, and the whole beastly show!—­Yours ever,

    “WILL”

Nick considered this outburst with a sympathetic frown, and at once despatched an answer in the affirmative.  He had almost expected the news.  It had been quite plain to him that Daisy was not making any progress towards the recovery of her strength.  Her quick temperament would not allow her to be listless, but he had not been deceived.  And he was glad that Will had come up at length to see for himself.

It was horribly unlucky for them both, he reflected, for he knew that Will could not accompany his wife to England.  And the thought presently flashed across him,—­How would it go with him if he ever had to part with Muriel in that way?  Having once possessed her, could he ever bear to let her go again?  Would he not rather relinquish his profession for her sake, dear though it was to him?  He had made her his own by sheer dogged effort.  He had planned for her, fought for her, suffered for her,—­almost he had died for her.  Now that she was his at last, he knew that he could never let her go.

He turned impetuously to a calendar on his writing-table, and ticked off another day.  There were only six left before his wedding-day.  He counted them with almost savage exultation.  Finally he tossed down the pencil with a sudden, quivering laugh, and stood up with wide-flung arms.  She was his—­his—­his!  No power or force of circumstance could ever come between them now.  He would trample every obstacle underfoot.

But there were no obstacles left.  He had overcome them all.  He had won her fairly; and the reward of patience was very near.

For the first time he slackened the bonds of his self-restraint; and instantly the fire of his passion leapt up, free and fierce, overflowing its confines in a wide-spread, molten stream that carried all before it.

When later he departed to keep his engagement, he was as a man treading upon air.  Not a dozen yards from the gate one of Lady Bassett’s servants met him and presented a note.  He guessed it was from Muriel, and the blood rose in a hot wave to his head and pounded at his temples as he opened it.  It was the first she had ever written to him.

    “I must see you at once,—­M.”

That was all.  He dismissed the waiting native, and returned to his room.  There he wrote a note to Will Musgrave warning him that he had been delayed.