In spite of the claims of his own affairs, Shafto did not immediately resign his post at Gregory's, for it happened to be an unusually busy season; there was a heavy paddy crop and, owing to fever, the staff were short-handed; therefore, for the present he decided to stick to the ship, especially as Sophy was, so to speak, on board.

Mrs. Gregory and Sophy were returning to England at the end of August; naturally he booked his passage for the same date, and it was a happy coincidence that he and his fiancÉe were once more to be shipmates on the Blankshire. Meanwhile they were enjoying the time of their lives; the rides or strolls in the grounds or in Dalhousie Park, and dances at the Club, were delightful, and their world was sympathetic and smiled upon the engagement.

Mrs. Gregory loved a wedding. Her rooms, appointments and well-drilled staff readily lent themselves to such festivals, and why, she asked, should Sophy not be married from the "Barn," take a trip up the river for her honeymoon, in order to see something of the real country, and buy her trousseau after her arrival in London?

Fired with this project, both she and Shafto dispatched long and plausible letters to Mrs. Leigh; but Mrs. Leigh declined to entertain the idea and, in equally long and eloquent effusions, set forth the fact that she had seen nothing of her youngest daughter for nearly two years and claimed a share of her company ere she was carried away to another home. She had, however, given a cordial assent to Sophy's engagement, and declared that she would gladly accept Douglas Shafto as a son, but Sophy must be married from home and in the old church at Chelsea.

As Mrs. Gregory returned this letter, she said:

"Well, Sophy, you must only take a sort of pre-honeymoon tour; we will go up to Mandalay, and maybe explore a bit of the Shan hills; I shall coax George to come—he has not had a holiday for ages. Douglas must get a fortnight off duty, and Martin Kerr, our donnish old cousin, who is arriving from Calcutta in a day or two, may accompany us; he is a bachelor, very well off, and has lived all his life like a hermit crab in his college in Oxford. Lately he had a bad breakdown, and was ordered an immense rest and change; so now he has ventured out to blink at the universe beyond Carfax and the High, I expect he will find us shamelessly trivial and ignorant. How his eyes will open when they look upon this glaring world and behold some glaring facts! I shall invite Miss Maitland to join our party; she is of a nice suitable age, and I shall pair her off with Martin; we will take George's durwan, as courier, for he has Upper Burma at his finger-ends, and will see that we are comfortable."

The projected tour proved entirely successful; Mandalay was reached in thirty hours. From Mandalay, after a few days' halt, the explorers fared to farther and less trodden fields, visited the ruby mines, and the wonderful remains of Pagan; occasionally they found the accommodation at zayats, or rest houses, a little rough, but this was handsomely discounted by novel sights and experiences, a full view of the Burman at home, and the easy joys of village life. First of all, there was the morning procession of the stately pongyes, carrying their empty begging-bowls, and looking neither to the right nor left; there were delicious hours in the forests; boating and fishing expeditions on the rivers, or rides to the ruins of ancient cities, half buried in jungle.

Shafto and Sophy saw so many novelties that they were almost bewildered, but not nearly so much bewildered or impressed as was the Professor, when first introduced to the library of an ancient monastery, in comparison with whose age his beloved Bodleian was a mere infant. Here the volumes were written on palm leaves, then rubbed over with oil to toughen and preserve them; the edges were richly gilt and fastened together by drilling a hole at one end, through which a cord was passed, then they were placed in elaborate lacquer boxes. There were countless numbers of such books, devout and mystic, all inscribed in Pali; they included the "Three Baskets of the Law," also the Laws of Manu, which dated from the fifth century before Christ. Professional scribes were kept constantly employed in re-copying and restoring these precious tomes, as the palm leaves only last about a hundred years, after which they become brittle and difficult to decipher, and the copyists have an endless task.

The Professor, attended by an interpreter, haunted the library, made eloquent signs to the pongyes in charge, and was permitted to examine and make notes of the rarest of their frail treasures, for which favour he duly made a generous acknowledgment.

Thanks to Mr. Gregory's courier, the travellers found comfortable quarters in his own ancestral village, and here they were able to watch the inhabitants both at work and play. They saw the oxen treading out grain, men working an oil mill, or caging fish; women weaving gay material, and children plaiting straw mats; so much for day-time occupations! At nights there were songs, dancings, gamblings, and games; these included chess, played somewhat differently from what it is in Europe, but still the same chess as when it crossed the frontiers from China. There was a king, but instead of a queen a general, instead of bishops, elephants; and some of the moves were unusual.

Mr. Gregory, who rather fancied himself as a chess-player, boldly challenged one of the elders and, with the entire village as solemn spectators, suffered, alas! a humiliating defeat. Then Shafto took a hand at dominoes, at which, thanks to May Lee, he was an expert; fortunately he came off conqueror, and thus restored to some extent the credit of the party. These games were played by torchlight, the local band—harp, dulcimer, two drums and clappers—discoursed at intervals; here the inhabitants, unlike those of Rangoon, were early birds. By ten o'clock lights were extinguished, the crowd had dispersed, and a serene silence fell on the soft, purple night.

The College Don had thoroughly enjoyed this excursion into primitive life in Upper Burma; he also enjoyed the stimulating company of Miss Maitland; and in this delightful, highly coloured atmosphere, surrounded by agreeable companions, he fished, joked, flirted, and appeared to have shed his formal Oxford manner, along with his Oxford trencher and gown. He remembered Shafto's father and, on the strength of this memory, the two became excellent friends, and Shafto gave him assistance in the way of adjusting his puttees, helping him over awkward places, advising him what food to avoid and what insects to destroy.

The trip lasted for three weeks and the party returned to Rangoon delighted with their tour, and bringing with them quantities of snapshots, not a few small trophies and mementoes—which included the great Shan hat, purchased by the Professor—and amusing anecdotes of their varied adventures.

"I feel as if I'd had a bird's-eye view of the real country," said Sophy to her friend. "Those great calm seas of green rice, bounded by dark woods, with a white pagoda peeping through here and there; the fierce strong rivers flowing through overhanging forests, and the deep red sunsets, turning old ruins into flames, and then the golden days and silver nights, and all the nice friendly simple people. Douglas and I feel quite sad at the idea of saying good-bye to Burma."

"Well, my dear, the matter lies in your own hands," said Mrs. Gregory briskly, "and after you are married, you can return to Rangoon; there is a fine big empty house in Halpin Road; we might go over and inspect it some morning."

* * * * * *

The assassination of the heir to the Crown of Austria and his Duchess had caused a profound sensation in Europe; ripples of this far-reaching tragedy had spread to the East; the Rangoon bazaar, like every other bazaar, was full of thrilling whispers, and various prudent traders were figuratively drawing in their horns and preparing for big trouble across the "Kala Pani."

It was the first week in August and on Wednesday; there had been a break-neck and exciting paper-chase, with the finish at Government House. Here a profusion of refreshments was displayed and all the world, more or less, was present; the men drinking pegs, the ladies iced coffee, gossiping, discussing the recent performance and various local matters. All at once a Government peon ran quickly through the crowd, a telegraph peon, then a motor arrived with two men (officials) who had not taken part in the paper-chase. Sir Horace Winter, the Lieutenant-Governor, and his military secretary disappeared abruptly indoors, and there was a sudden pause in the continuous chatter.

More than one of the guests experienced a curious thrill, as if there was something electric in the air; then from nowhere in particular the word "War" was whispered. "Great Britain has declared war on Germany." This seemed incredible; people stared at one another aghast, and boldly declared that "it was just a bazaar shave and a mistake," for out in the Far, Far East there had been no preliminary muttering of the storm which was about to burst and drown half the world in tears.

Nevertheless, the news was horribly true. "War" had come; war, after so many years of European peace and prosperity; and newly aroused, startled countries found themselves face to face with the malignity of the unknown.

Presently the Lieutenant-Governor reappeared and verified the whisper. Wires were already active; the 29th Punjaub Infantry had been ordered from Mandalay; guests pressed round, eagerly snatching at scraps of information; Germans and British glanced curiously at one another, and presently the gathering dissolved—to talk, to write, and to cable.

For several days nothing remarkable occurred, save that the outgoing mail carried a number of British who had booked their passages at the last moment. Officers on leave were recalled, a few big business houses were closed and, in the District, many German mills and a large influx of stalwart young employÉs, who had been working in them and could not speak a word of English, suddenly flocked in, prepared to embark for Europe, to fight for the Fatherland.

Every berth in the Blankshire had been secured, and the night before she sailed the well-known German Club gave its parting dinner; a wild affair, with unlimited quantities of champagne, loud patriotic speeches, songs and shouts of "Deutschland Über Alles," and finally a smashing of glass, a breaking of furniture, and the customary wrecking of the premises.

In her frequent journeys from Rangoon, the popular Blankshire had never been so crowded as on the present occasion; every berth was taken, chiefly by German passengers, who had also bespoken the chief seats at table and the best positions for their deck chairs; such was the crush that there would be no room whatever for casual travellers from Colombo or Port Said. The British, who were in a comparatively small minority, realised what a very bad time lay before them, when they and their country's enemies must pass weeks and weeks in close proximity. Many had caught the previous steamer, but the remnant included Mrs. Gregory, Sophy, Shafto and MacNab—who was actually paying the passage out of his hoarded funds, and sternly resolved to join the Cameronians. The party were figuratively swamped by the multitude of Teutons, who had swarmed on board, already looking truculent, arrogant and victorious—drinking and toasting one another noisily in vast libations at the bar. On the wharf an immense gathering of natives assembled to speed numbers of kind and generous patrons, who (with an eye to the future) had distributed a considerable amount of largesse and flattery, as well as silk and satin finery. What with the Germans and their native friends, egress from and ingress to the steamer were almost impossible; the gangway was choked, and the shouting and hurrahing actually drowned the noise of the donkey-engine.

Many friends had come to see the last of Mrs. Gregory and her party; the military and official element were bound to remain in Rangoon. Sophy was talking to Miss Maitland and Ella Pomeroy, when a fresh influx of joyous and exultant Germans came pouring down the gangway with the force and violence of a human cataract. Sophy and her friends were thrust rudely apart and, from where she had been pushed against the bulwarks, she saw Frau Wurm pass by, also Frau Muller, who threw her a glance that seemed to distil hatred. She was immediately followed by Bernhard, looking extraordinarily elated and deeply flushed. Catching sight of Sophy he halted, clicked his heels together, and said, with a sort of savage courtesy:

"Ach, so here we are again, you and I, Miss Leigh, on the old ship that brought us out! I am delighted to have your company."

Sophy looked round for some means of escape, but she was helpless, being tightly wedged in between two bulwarks—the bulwark of the Blankshire and Bernhard's solid form—and separated from Mrs. Gregory by a seething crowd of jubilant Teutons.

"So 'Der Tag' has come at last!" he continued, staring into her face with arrogant blue eyes; "and we are on the eve of great events. I am about to join my Brandenburger regiment—every German is a soldier—we have several hundred reservists on board."

Sophy at last found her voice and murmured: "No doubt!"

"I caught sight of Shafto just now. Why is he going home?"

"To serve his country."

"Ah, bah! Better stick to his pen; it takes two years to make a soldier; in ten days we shall be in Paris, in a month in London. And why not? You have no army; we are a nation of fighting men, and you are a nation of shopkeepers!"

"Of course we are not prepared; we would not listen to Lord Roberts; and, on the other hand, you have been arming and drilling and shipbuilding for the last forty years!"

"Ah, well, meine liebe frÄulein, we must spread our borders! Who could expect the greatest nation in the world to remain cooped up in the North Sea? We demand and we will have space, power, and the sun. We understand patriotism and the love of country."

"The love of other people's countries," interposed Sophy sharply. "You
Germans are everywhere—like the sparrows."

"To other nations we bring valuable lessons in industry and Kulture, prudence, thrift, and energy; other countries are only too fortunate to receive us. We have brains, bold hearts, and discipline—and know how to use them. Old BlÜcher, who won Waterloo, may yet find his aspirations fulfilled."

"Ah, you mean the sack and plunder of London?"

He nodded an impressive assent, and then said:

"When I am there I shall call on you, and show you my loot!" As he spoke he lent towards her, his eyes exultant, his breath heavy with champagne. Sophy instinctively recoiled and said:

"Pray do not trouble."

Bernhard gave a loud, boisterous laugh.

"It will be 'Missy can't see.' By the way, talking of loot, do you know that Herr Krauss is dead?"

"Dead!" she repeated. "No; I heard he had gone to Java."

"He has gone to his grave. Last night I was told that his body was found floating near the landing-stage at Moulmein; there were no marks on it, no signs of a violent end; and yet he was the last man in the world to commit suicide."

"Yes," assented Sophy; "he had so many plans and schemes for the future."

"They say a little bunch of coarse black hair was found in his clutch; however, at the inquest they brought in a verdict of 'Found Drowned.' It saved trouble. I wonder who will get his money. He was enormously rich."

"With ill-gotten gains."

"Well, he must have some German kin to claim his fortune, and I'll make it my business to find out all I can when I return here."

"So you are coming back?"

"Why, of course—possibly in six months. I leave my house and belongings all standing. Business is but temporarily closed. Burma, as old Krauss used to say, is 'the land of opportunity.' When next I see the Golden Pagoda, the whole of this rich and fertile country will belong to us."

"You are sanguine!"

"Sanguine! I am certain; and why not? Look at our wonderful trade!
And the Burmese themselves like us a million times better than you
English."

"Simply because you bribe them with money and presents."

"But look at the crowds," waving his hand towards the masses, "who have come to say 'Auf Wiedersehen'; thousands and thousands." Then he turned his bold arrogant eyes on Sophy and said: "Your country has no chance against us, Miss Leigh; we shall crush you like pulp—your money, treasures and trade will all be ours. Hullo!" he exclaimed, "what are these police doing? Mounted police, too! Any escaped convicts on board?"

As he stood and watched, the swaying masses were parted with authority and a large force ranged up on the quay. Officers and officials came on board, armed with an order from the Lieutenant-Governor. Among the first strode FitzGerald in full uniform, not the everyday genial Patrick, but a smart stern guardian of the law. Approaching the bragging Bernhard, he said, with frigid severity: "Be good enough to go ashore, Herr Bernhard."

"What!" stammered his prisoner, who had become livid. "What the devil are you talking about! How dare you interfere with me? Or give me an order?"

"Official order," rejoined FitzGerald, entirely unmoved. "All men of
German nationality to disembark immediately and be interned."

Sophy now made a forcible and frantic effort to effect her escape from this hateful situation, and struggling through the crowd eventually managed to join her own friends.

Disembark—to be interned! What a thunderbolt! All at once Bernhard's flushed countenance became livid, his eyes glared savagely, and there suddenly spread a choking, suffocating expression on his large handsome face. The noise and clamour of hoarse angry voices became almost stupefying, but in the end the Teutons were compelled to accept the inevitable, and gradually streamed ashore, carrying their hand baggage, parcels of delicatessen, and other comforts intended for the voyage. The heavy baggage was hastily landed, for the Blankshire had steam up and was bound to catch the tide.

A more than half-empty ship, she now slipped from her berth and turned her bows towards home. As she glided slowly by the wharf, Shafto and Sophy waved vigorous farewells to their numerous friends, Burmese and European. There was Roscoe, there were the Salters and Rosetta. Apart from all, a solitary little figure stood prominent on a heap of rice bags. It was Ma Chit, waving a pink silk handkerchief. For once she was not smiling, her piquant face was grave, and the eyes fixed upon Shafto conveyed an eloquent and heartbroken farewell; presently she cowered down and hid her face.

"That was a wonderfully smart coup!" said a ship's officer to Mrs. Gregory and Sophy. "Those German fellows that were trampling all over the ship as if she was their own property were neatly caught. They will be shipped off to India out of harm's way, and within a week or two, I fancy, will find themselves at Ahmednuggur."

The interned passengers had left ample space and a grateful sense of relief and freedom. As the Blankshire throbbed down past "the Hastings" Shafto and Sophy stood side by side, taking their last look at the Great Pagoda, which gave an impression of being swathed in a mantle of dazzling gold, and dominated all its surroundings.

"It seems only the other day we were coming up the river in this very old boat," he said; "a year and ten months ago, and how much has happened in that time! Well, we have had strange experiences, seen many places, and made many friends. Here is one of them now," indicating Mrs. Gregory; "I expect she feels a bit down, after parting with old George, although he does follow in three months; so do you try to cheer her, while I go below and hurry up the tea."