ast, to-morrow. The jewels are safely out of the
way now. For a few pounds he will watch this she-devil, and that yellow
thief, Ram Lal, for me. My only danger is in their coming together.
I'll get a note to him early." Seizing his chit-book, he dashed off in
a frankly apologetic way a few lines. "There! That'll do! Not too much!"
He read his lines with a final approval.

"Dear Hawke: I've been worried to death with a lot of people thrust on
me. Mere figure-heads. You must excuse an old friend--an old man--and
Madame Louison is like all women--only a bundle of nerves. Come over to
the house to-day at noon and breakfast with Abercromby and myself alone.
I'll send you back to Calcutta with him on a little run. I appreciate
your manliness in keeping out of my little misunderstanding with the
Madame. By the way, a few words from Abercromby to the Viceroy would
put you back on the Army Staff, where you rightly belong. Let bygones be
bygones, and you can make your play on the General, It's the one chance
of a life. Come and see me. J."

"There! He will never show that!" mused Hugh Johnstone. "It touches his
one little raw spot!" And calling a boy the old Commissioner dispatched
the note, carefully sealed, to the Club. The last one to seek his rest
in the marble house, old Johnstone was strangely shaken by the events of
the day.

Berthe Louison's threats, Ram Lal's stubborn refusal, and the useless
quarrel with Hawke had unmanned him. He drank a strong glass of grog and
then sought his room. "All things settle themselves at last! This thing
will blow over! I wish to God that she was out of the way! I could then
handle the rest!" For in his heart he feared the defiant woman.

There were two men equally surprised when gunfire brought the "day's
doings" on again in lazy, luxurious Delhi. Over his morning coffee,
Major Alan Hawke thankfully cried: "I am a very devil for luck! This old
skinflint is opening his bosom and handing me a knife. By God! I'll have
my pound of flesh!" He leaped from his couch as blithe as a midshipman
receiving his first love letter from a fullgrown dame. There was great
joy in the house of Hawke.

But when Simpson entered his master's room he was followed by a
wild-eyed returning emissary, who waited till the old soldier had left
the room. Hugh Johnstone suddenly lost all interest in the breakfast
tray, the letters and his morning toilet, when the Hindu fearfully said:
"They are all gone--the Mem-Sah