Of course I did not suppose Isaacs would go to bed.

He expected that the Westonhaughs would have returned by this time, and he would doubtless go to them as soon as he had breakfasted.

So we separated to dress and be shaved--my beard was a week old at least--and to make ourselves as comfortable as we deserved to be after our manifold exertions.

We had been three days and a half from Keitung to Simla.
At my door stood the faithful Kiramat Ali, salaaming and making a pretence of putting dust on his head according to his ideas of respectful greeting.

On the table lay letters; one of these, a note, lay in a prominent position.