e reptile, in
a confusedly vicious series of attacks and close in a deadly conflict,
and, when, at last, the snake charmer walked disgustedly away, the
little ferret's sharp teeth were transfixed in the throat of its dead
enemy.

A handful of silver to the snake catcher and his boy sent them away
delighted, while the wounded mongoose, having greedily sucked the blood
of the dead cobra, wandered away in triumph, creeping on its belly into
the rank grass in search of the life-saving herb which it alone can
find, to cure the venom-inflamed wounds of the deadly "naja." The
silent duel was over, and the bodies of the dreadful vipers were hastily
buried.

"I shall call this afternoon, at five, to ask Miss Johnstone if she
has entirely recovered," gravely said Captain Hardwicke to Mademoiselle
Justine Delande, when the still excited Swiss woman poured forth her
congratulations to the young hero of this morning's episode. Hardwicke
was standing with his gloved hand grasping the mettlesome "Garibaldi's"
bridle. Justine Delande threw her arms around the neck of the noble
horse and kissed his sleek brown cheek. Then she whispered a few words
to Captain Hardwicke, which made that young warrior's heart leap up in a
wild joy.

He laughed lightly as he said: "Keep this quiet. Pray do not allow Miss
Johnstone to walk any more in the dewy grass. These deadly reptiles
affect moisture, and, strange to say, they love the vicinity of human
habitations. As for 'Garibaldi,' good old fellow, I'll bring him this
afternoon, but I'll not take him again over the gate. It was a pretty
stiff jump for the old boy." When Simpson escorted the happy Captain to
the opened carriage gate, he threw up his wrinkled hand in salute.

"You're your father's own son, Captain, and God bless you and good luck
to you and the young mistress."

There was no answer as Harry spurred the charger down the road, but
Simpson pocketed a sovereign, with the sage prophecy that things were at
last, going the right way.

The watchful Hugh Johnstone was already in waiting, on this very
morning, at the East Indian station in Calcutta, with a sumptuous
carriage; for a telegram had warned him that the woman whom he dreaded,
and had secretly doomed, was fast approaching. His heart was resolutely
set upon the master stroke of his life, for a private audience with the
Viceroy of India had been graciously granted him at two o'clock. "I am
saved--if nothing goes wrong," he murmur