ck-browed Frenchman, holding open the door, hissed
"ALLEZ!" as Hugh Johnstone saw for the last time the marble face of the
woman who had doomed him to shame.

"Go and send Ram Lal to me at once!" sternly said Berthe Louison. "Then
to Major Hawke. Tell him that I want him to dine with me, and I shall
need him all the evening. Order my carriage for five o'clock!"

Alan Hawke had played his best trump card, and played it well, for the
woman who had doubted him, gloried in his courage and hardihood. "I
can trust him now!" she murmured when she drove to the Delhi agency
of Grindlays and, two hours later, astounded the local manager by the
executive rapidity of her varied business actions.

"What's in the wind?" murmured the bank manager. "A sudden flitting!"
He had been ordered to detail two of his best men to accompany Madame
Louison to Calcutta, in a special car leaving at midnight. "Telegraph
to your head office in Calcutta of my arrival. Major Alan Hawke will
represent me here, under written orders to be left with your Calcutta
manager. Send this on in cipher." She handed him a long dispatch to his
chief.

Madame Berthe Louison was seen in Delhi, in public, for the last time,
as she gazed steadily at the brilliant throng on the lawns of the marble
house. A fete Champetre had brought "all of Delhi" together, and the
conspicuous absence of "the French Countess" was the reigning sensation.
The tall, bent form of Hugh Fraser Johnstone was prominent reigning as
host, under a great marquee. Neither of the great generals were there,
however, for Simpson had drawn Major Hardwicke aside to whisper: "A
captain's guard came here to-day and took an enormous treasure in
precious stones up to Willoughby's Headquarters!" and the two commanders
were even then busied in listing the recovered loot, with a dozen
yellow-faced Hindus and several confidential staff officers. "It's the
last act, Captain darlin'," said Simpson. "Old Hugh has given me secret
orders to get ready to go on to London. He only takes his personal
articles. Young Douglas Fraser will come here and manage the Indian
estates."

"Who's he?" eagerly cried Hardwicke.

"The fellow who carried the women away--the old man's only nephew."

"Ah! now I see!" heavily breathed Hardwicke. "I will take the previous
boat, and wait for the old man at Brindisi! Post me! I'll keep mum!"

"Depend on me for my life itself," said Simpson; "but be prudent! I
don't want to lose my lif