No More Learning

"Has what gone, Jack dear? what does it all mean? There must be a
mistake somewhere, Jack. A hideous mistake. " Her last words brought me
to my feet--mad--raving for the time being.

"Yes, there is a mistake somewhere," I repeated, "a hideous mistake.
Come and look at It. "

I have an indistinct idea that I dragged Kitty by the wrist along the
road up to where It stood, and implored her for pity's sake to speak to
It; to tell It that we were betrothed; that neither Death nor Hell could
break the tie between us; and Kitty only knows how much more to the
same effect. Now and again I appealed passionately to the Terror in the
'rickshaw to bear witness to all I had said, and to release me from
a torture that was killing me. As I talked I suppose I must have told
Kitty of my old relations with Mrs. Wessington, for I saw her listen
intently with white face and blazing eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Pansay," she said, "that's quite enough. Syce ghora
lao. "

The syces, impassive as Orientals always are, had come up with the
recaptured horses; and as Kitty sprang into her saddle I caught hold of
the bridle, entreating her to hear me out and forgive.
My answer was the
cut of her riding-whip across my face from mouth to eye, and a word
or two of farewell that even now I cannot write down. So I judged, and
judged rightly, that Kitty knew all; and I staggered back to the side
of the 'rickshaw. My face was cut and bleeding, and the blow of the
riding-whip had raised a livid blue wheal on it. I had no self-respect.
Just then, Heatherlegh, who must have been following Kitty and me at a
distance, cantered up.

"Doctor," I said, pointing to my face, "here's Miss Mannering's
signature to my order of dismissal and--I'll thank you for that lakh as
soon as convenient. "

Heatherlegh's face, even in my abject misery, moved me to laughter.

"I'll stake my professional reputation"--he began.

"Don't be a fool," I whispered. "I've lost my life's happiness and you'd
better take me home. "

As I spoke the 'rickshaw was gone. Then I lost all knowledge of what was
passing. The crest of Jakko seemed to heave and roll like the crest of a
cloud and fall in upon me.

Seven days later (on the 7th of May, that is to say) I was aware that I
was lying in Heatherlegh's room as weak as a little child. Heatherlegh
was watching me intently from behind the papers on his writing-table.
His first words were not encouraging; but I was too far spent to be much
moved by them.