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the danger had really been, and she forgave him everything, even Ma Hla May, because he had shown
courage at the right moment. It was the buffalo and the leopard over again. His heart thumped in his
breast. He slipped his hand down her arm and clasped her fingers in his own.
‘Elizabeth——’
‘Someone will see us!’ she said, and she withdrew her hand, but not angrily.
‘Elizabeth, I’ve something I want to say to you. Do you remember a letter I wrote you from the
jungle, after our–some weeks ago?’
‘Yes.’
‘You remember what I said in it?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t answer it. Only——’
‘I couldn’t expect you to answer it, then. But I just wanted to remind you of what I said.’
In the letter, of course, he had only said, and feebly enough, that he loved her–would always love
her, no matter what happened. They were standing face to face, very close together. On an impulse–
and it was so swiftly done that afterwards he had difficulty in believing that it had ever happened–he
took her in his arms and drew her towards him. For a moment she yielded and let him lift up her face
and kiss her; then suddenly she recoiled and shook her head. Perhaps she was frightened that someone
would see them, perhaps it was only because his moustache was so wet from the rain. Without saying
anything more she broke from him and hurried away into the Club. There was a look of distress or
compunction in her face; but she did not seem angry.
He followed her more slowly into the Club, and ran into Mr Macgregor, who was in a very good
humour. As soon as he saw Flory he boomed genially, ‘Aha! The conquering hero comes!’ and then, in
a more serious vein, offered him fresh congratulations. Flory improved the occasion by saying a few
words on behalf of the doctor. He painted quite a lively picture of the doctor’s heroism in the riot.
‘He was right in the middle of the crowd, fighting like a tiger,’ etc. etc. It was not too much
exaggerated–for the doctor had certainly risked his life. Mr Macgregor was impressed, and so were
the others when they heard of it. At all times the testimony of one European can do an Oriental more
good than that of a thousand of his fellow countrymen; and at this moment Flory’s opinion carried
weight. Practically, the doctor’s good name was restored. His election to the Club could be taken as
assured.
However, it was not finally agreed upon yet, because Flory was returning to camp. He set out the
same evening, marching by night, and he did not see Elizabeth again before leaving. It was quite safe
to travel in the jungle now, for the futile rebellion was obviously finished. There is seldom any talk of
rebellion after the rains have started–the Burmans are too busy ploughing, and in any case the
waterlogged fields are impassable for large bodies of men. Flory was to return to Kyauktada in ten
days, when the padre’s six-weekly visit fell due. The truth was that he did not care to be in Kyauktada
while both Elizabeth and Verrall were there. And yet, it was strange, but all the bitterness–all the
obscene, crawling envy that had tormented him before–was gone now that he knew she had forgiven
him. It was only Verrall who stood between them now. And even the thought of her in Verrall’s arms
could hardly move him, because he knew that at the worst the affair must have an end. Verrall, it was
quite certain, would never marry Elizabeth; young men of Verrall’s stamp do not marry penniless girls