gh?" His dreams of an army reinstatement came back to worry him. "I
might go to Abercromby and warn him about Johnstone. Damn it! I've
no proof as yet! Berthe Louison will fire the great gun herself." The
renegade fell asleep, torturing himself about the needless breach with
Johnstone. "All violence is a mistake!" he muttered, half asleep. "The
angry old man will keep me away from the girl forever, and the old brute
is going to Europe. I have spoiled one game in taking one trick too
roughly."

Another "late party" was at Major Hardwicke's quarters, where the loyal
Simpson related to the lover all the gossip of Johnstone and General
Abercromby, over their brandy pawnee and cheroots. Simpson was the eager
servitor of the young engineer, whom he loved.

General Willoughby had a little fit of "work" which seized upon him, and
so he toiled till late at night, sending some cipher dispatches to the
Viceroy. "I may make a point in this, perhaps a C. B.," said the old
veteran, who was sharper when drunk than sober. "I'll put a pin in
Johnstone's game, and get ahead of Abercromby." This last old warrior
had secretly vowed to force Hugh Fraser Johnstone to present him to the
"little party in the Silver Bungalow." The Calcutta general was a Knight
of Venus, as well as a Son of Mars, and had guarded memories of
some wild episodes of his own there in the halcyon days of the great
chieftain who had builded it. A gay young staff officer whispered:

"Alan Hawke is the only one who really has the 'open sesame.' He knows
that 'little party.' Didn't you see Johnstone hurry her away? The old
nabob, too, is sly."

"Ah!" mused the General. "I'll make Johnstone have Hawke here to
breakfast. Devilish clever fellow--and he'll take me there!" Alas! for
these rosy anticipations. The "little party" was already at Allahabad
before the gouty general awoke from his love dream.

And, last of all the "late parties" on this eventful night was Hugh
Fraser Johnstone's little solitary council of war. He had, with a
prescience of coming trouble, detailed two of his own keenest personal
servants to watch the Silver Bungalow, from daylight, relieving each
other, and never losing sight a moment of the hidden tiger's den. "I'll
find out who goes and comes there! By God! I will!" he raged. After a
long cogitation, he evolved a "way out" of his quarrel with Hawke. "Damn
the fellow! I must not drive him over into the enemy's camp. I'll have
him here--to breakf