r any
other circumstances. But, notwithstanding these drawbacks, she had a
wonderful endurance, and she was never startled or at a loss. Stella
often told herself that she would not have exchanged her for another
woman--even a white woman--out of the whole of India had the chance
offered. Hanani, grave, silent, capable, met every need.

CHAPTER VII

THE FIRST VICTIM

An ominous calm prevailed at Khanmulla during the week that followed the
conviction of Ermsted's murderer and the disappearance of the Rajah. All
Markestan seemed to be waiting with bated breath. But, save for the
departure of the women from Kurrumpore, no sign was given by the
Government of any expectation of a disturbance. The law was to take its
course, and no official note had been made of the absence of the Rajah.
He had always been sudden in his movements.

Everything went as usual at Kurrumpore, and no one's nerves seemed to
feel any strain. Even Tommy betrayed no hint of irritation. A new
manliness had come upon Tommy of late. He was keeping himself in hand
with a steadiness which even Bertie Oakes could not ruffle and which
Major Ralston openly approved. He had always known that Tommy had the
stuff for great things in him.

A species of bickering friendship had sprung up between them, founded
upon their tacit belief in the honour of a man who had failed. They
seldom mentioned his name, but the bond of sympathy remained, oddly
tenacious and unassailable. Tommy strongly suspected, moreover, that
Ralston knew Everard's whereabouts, and of this even Bernard was
ignorant at that time. Ralston never boasted his knowledge, but the
conviction had somehow taken hold of Tommy, and for this reason also he
sought the surgeon's company as he had certainly never sought it before.

Ralston on his part was kind to the boy partly because he liked him and
admired his staunchness, and partly because his wife's unwilling
departure had left him lonely. He and Major Burton for some reason were
not so friendly as of yore, and they no longer spent their evenings in
strict seclusion with the chess-board. He took to walking back from the
Mess with Tommy, and encouraged the latter to drop in at his bungalow
for a smoke whenever he felt inclined. It was but a short distance from
The Green Bungalow, and, as he was wont to remark, it was one degree
more cheerful for which consideration Tommy was profoundly grateful.
Notwithstanding Bernard's kind and wholesome pr