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“Yes, I could survive it, I diamonds into tho sea. Even think,” said Jocelyn. “You if he were caught and punished, see, robbing orchards is not Lady Pilth would never have theft in the mean sense of the had a sporting chance of getting word. It's not carried out with her diamonds back.” the vulgar object of gain, but “That's an extreme case,” as a means of getting rid of protested Honiton. “The orthe superfluous spirits of youth. dinary thief wouldn't throw his I shouldn't wonder if you did swag in the sea." rob orchards when you were a “Nevertheless, a thief's a

thief and a quite undefendable “Perhaps I did," he ad- creature. I'm surprised at you mitted. “But don't you think trying to stick up for him, other robberies may sometimes unless-unless you have a perbe committed for the same sonal motive. Frank,” she motive-sportiness, rather than turned upon him with raised vulgar gain "

finger and mock solemnity, “No," replied Jocelyn with “what have you done with decision. “You see, boys don't Lady Pilth's jewels ? Conthink of the moral side of fess!” things. They have no moral Peter Brown looked up from sense, but grown-ups have. his book with an expression of There is no sport in taking dismay. He had not heard something from an unsuspect- what had gone before, and the ing person. If you can imagine sudden accusation came on two people, each with a gold him without warning. A glance watch and chain, and each at the girl's smiling face assured trying to steal it from the other, him as to her innocence of all who knows that the other is ill intent, but he looked curitrying to steal it, that would ously at Honiton to see how be quite a sporting event, but he would receive such a keen there is no sport in stealing in thrust. If he expected any the ordinary sense. It's too sign of discomfort, he was disone-sided.”

appointed. “What about the police ?” “The secret of all successasked Honiton. “The thief ful crime is—secrecy,” replied has to take his chance against Honiton lightly. “ Surely you them all the time. That must don't imagine I'm going to impart an element of sport into give myself away - even to the business, surely ?"

you?” “It doesn't make things The last words, added after equal,” said Jocelyn, “be- & pause, were spoken more cause the victim has no say earnestly, with Honiton's eyes in the matter. Take the case turned earnestly upon Joceof Lady Pilth, for instance. lyn's pretty face. Her colour Whoever robbed her may, for deepened under his scrutiny, all we know, have thrown her and with a little self-conscious

watcheople, each with imagine what had got

laugh she turned her head away. “Let’s forget thieves and all such abominations,” she said lightly, as she rose from her chair. “Come along, Frank, you must amuse me and keep me from worrying about other people's troubles. Let's play deck croquet. You don’t take enough exercise.” Peter Brown watched them as they strolled off together to the windward side of the deck, where their game would not inconvenience the other passengers. He could not but observe what a handsome, wellmatched pair they made, and he shook his head sadly when they had disappeared from his sight. Never had he met a man to whom he had felt so drawn. In his profession his acquaintances were mostly casual and did not develop into intimacy, and outside of it he had little opportunity to make friends. It was hard that he should be called upon to lead this friend that he had made to his doom. The detective's had been a busy and sordid life, and the interlude of the voyage had thrown him amongst a class whom he had little chance of meeting on terms of equality. He thought of Joan Conliffe with her low voice, her carefully-hoarded words, and wondered at the ease and freedom he had felt with her. That he had lost already, as he must lose the friendship of Honiton when the voyage ended. He wished that he had never been

sent to Cairo to effect this arrest. He had known no peace of mind since, and he had an instinctive feeling that his troubles were thickening. Perhaps it was not altogether instinctive. Realising, as he did now, the false position in which he had placed himself by his bargain with Honiton, and having already experienced so many of the difficulties to which it gave rise, it was natural enough that he should look to the future somewhat pessimistically. He had given up all idea of interfering in the matter of Lady Pilth's diamonds. He could do nothing without admitting, at least to the captain, that he was a police officer, and he had determined that that was out of the question. Captain Spedley's decision also had relieved his conscience considerably. The jewels could not be disposed of until Liverpool was reached, and he would be a clever thief who would get them ashore once the Liverpool police had the matter in hand. All of which did not prevent him keeping eyes and ears open to all that went on around him. He had already dismissed as preposterous the idea that Charlie Conliffe had any hand in the robbery. He had sifted all the passengers through his mind without any of them sticking in the meshes, even Cohun Balke, with all his mania for jewels, passing through without difficulty. There remained the stewards, who had easy access to the cabin, but he was without data on which to estimate their characters. Garry he disliked as a slimy sort of person, but he recognised that sliminess unsupported by facts was no sure basis on which to build a theory. No, he had to admit himself at a loss. His vivid imagination pictured various possible solutions to the mystery, one in particular so far-fetched and improbable that he smiled at his own absurdity. Yet the idea would return, entirely unsupported by evidence, and he could not banish it from his mind. Fantastic as it was— probably because it was so very fantastic—it fascinated him. Of all the thoughts that passed through his mind during those days before the arrival at Gibraltar, Joan Conliffe took the foremost place. She was rarely absent from his mind, indeed, and it was natural that, notwithstanding the barrier that had risen between them, he should strive to find a means to be of service to her. He could not tell her of the love and pity for her that filled his heart, so he did the next best thing, as he thought—he tried to reform Charlie. It was a hopeless effort from the start, but he persevered, haunting the smoking-room at times when he had never been seen there before, and joining in rounds of drinks for which he had no desire, in the hope of putting in a word of advice that would go home to the drunkard's heart.

It ended as might have been expected. It was on the afternoon of the day at the end of which the Bedouin arrived at Gibraltar, and Charlie was rapidly approaching a state of stupor. Peter Brown, seeing him put out his hand to fumble for the bell-push, attempted to remonstrate. “Not another drink, Conliffe,” he suggested, mildly enough, and leaning over, he placed his hand over Charlie's. In a normal frame of mind he would have known better than to interfere, but the intensity of his desire to be of assistance to Mrs Conliffe blinded his judgment. “You go to hell, blast you,” replied Charlie, with true oriental politeness. He wrenched his hand free, and pressed his thumb on the bell-push definatly. Peter Brown made another effort. “It's doing you no good, old fellow,” he said, striving to speak in the hail-fellow-wellmet fashion that was Charlie's own, and failing miserably in the attempt. “Give it a miss for to-day.” Until now, Charlie Conliffe had appeared to have forgotten the scene in his cabin when the detective had come to the rescue of Joan. Shame, perhaps, had made him banish it from his mind, but now shame was swamped in the fumes of the drinks that he had consumed, and an evil rancour rose to the surface. “Go to hell, blast you,” he

repeated, starting unsteadily “ Ca' canny, lad, ca' canny," to his feet, with staring blood cried Murray, and with remarkshot eyes. “I've had enough able promptitude, considering of you an' your damned inter his stolid exterior, seized the ference. You leave me alone. upraised arm, and dragged the An' leave my wife alone too— aggressor backwards into his see? I know wen I've had seat, where Scrymgeour asenough, an' I don't want you sisted in holding him. to tell me. Get to hell out o' “Ye'd better awa'," advised this."

the latter. “Ye’re daein' nae Peter would have been wise guid.” to have accepted the advice, “Let me bash his damned uncourteously as it was worded, face in,” shouted Charlie, furibut his good intentions proved ous at the interference. “He's too much for his discretion, been getting off with my missus, and he attempted another ap- and by God " peal.

Peter Brown heard no more. “You've had enough, Con- Horrified at the sacrilege, and liffe," he began, but got no fearful lest even worse should further, for Charlie aimed a follow, he hurried from the wild blow at his face, which smoking-room, nor did he again would certainly have taken attempt to arrest the rapidly effect but for the interference increasing pace of Charlie Conof the spectators.

liffe's downfall. (To be continued.)



IN a British regiment, as is well known to several millions of men who are now again civilians, but who have had the honour and glory of fighting in the Great War, there is, when the enemy permits, a daily ceremony known as Orderly Room. At the appointed hour and place, the Adjutant and the SergeantMajor produce before the Colonel such malefactors as require correction for their major or minor military offences, known in the service severally and collectively as “crimes.” These vary from indulging in a little too much “back chat ” to a corporal, or a slight effervescence of spirits at inopportune hours, to desertion in face of the enemy, or eloping with the company’s cash-box. The procedure is, however, exactly the same: the Colonel either deals with the case himself, or relegates the culprit to various Courts-Martial of intensive degrees of severity. Orderly Room, in fact, is the daily Court of Justice of the regiment.

In many, perhaps the majority of Indian regiments, this form of jurisdiction is replaced by another, which experience has shown is more in conformity with Indian ideas. For the formal British Orderly


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Room is substituted the Regimental Durbar, an assembly composed of all and sundry who may care to be present; and which is not only a judicial court where the Colonel deals out summary justice, but is also a formal but perfectly democratic assembly, whereat it is open to any one, whether the most senior officer present or the last-joined trumpeter, to have his say on any broad point connected with the wellbeing of the regiment. To emphasise the democratic nature of these durbars, it is open not only to officers, but also to the men to attend in mufti. It is not in the least impossible for the first case brought before the Colonel to be one of murder, rape, or sacrilege, in which event he would probably hand over the accused to the civil authorities; whilst the last may be connected with so ordinary a matter as the regimental sports, regarding which on some subtle point the boy trumpeter may have a few useful remarks to make. He in such case would be pushed forward by his bearded comrades to have his say before the Colonel and assembled Sahibs. There is, however, one golden rule in the conduct of Regi2 S

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