himself. With a smothered curse he thrust the letter in
his pocket. "Both of them are trying to keep me in the dark, I'll let
Madame Berthe Louison run her own head into the trap. Then, when she
pays, I will talk, but not till then." The careful lines stated that for
a week the writer would be greatly engrossed with private matters, and
at home to no one. "I will send for you as soon as I am able to see you,
upon some new business matters."

The last clause was significant enough. "He prepared this to give me
a social knockout!" coolly said the renegade. "All right! But wait!
By Gad! I fancy I'll take a cool revenge in joining Ram Lal and Berthe
Louison. Suppose that the old duffer were put out of the way? Could I
then count on Justine, and my wary employer? There is a storm brewing,
and breakers ahead. I must soon get my 'retaining fee' from the lady of
the Silver Bungalow or I may lose it forever! And I will let her uncover
the empty bird's nest herself! She must not suspect me!" And yet the
curt letter of the old civilian wounded him to the quick. "What does
this jugglery mean? He ought to fear me, by this time, just a little! He
intends to crush Berthe Louison by some foul blow, and then will he
dare to begin on me? I will double forces with Ram Lal. That's my only
alliance!" The Major's soul was up in arms.

When the splendid reception at General Willoughby's was over, Hugh
Johnstone cautiously approached Major Hardwicke. "I am just told that
General Abercromby will remain and dine 'en famille' with his old
brother in arms. Will you drive with me to my house? I have something of
a private nature to say to you. I can give you a seat in my carriage."
Major Hardwicke bowed and, obtaining his conge, sat in expectant waiting
until the two men were comfortably seated in Johnstone's snuggery in the
deserted mansion. They talked indifferently over Abercromby's arrival
till Simpson announced dinner.

"I would like you to dine with me, Major Hardwicke," said the old
Commissioner, "for I have something now to say to you." He rang a silver
bell, and, whispering to Simpson, faced his young visitor, who had bowed
in acceptance. The butler returned in a few moments with a superb Indian
saber, sheathed in gold, and shimmering with splendid jewels. He stood,
mute, as Johnstone gravely said: "I learned from Simpson, on my return
from Calcutta, of your prompt gallantry in aiding my daughter in her
hour of peril." He continued, "Si