evils who robbed the
captured Princes of Oude.

"Once in England, I am safe. I'll not leave till I get the Baronetcy,
and the jewels will not be delivered up until I get it. I am closely
watched here."

Hawke's eyes burned fiercely. "And if I was to take the train and tell
the Viceroy this?" he boldly said.

"Then I would say that you had lied--that is all."

"What do I get?" coolly demanded Hawke.

"Five thousand pounds the day that I get my Baronetcy," quietly replied
Johnstone.

"I'll not do it," hotly cried Hawke. "You might say I lied," he sneered.
"I want it now!"

The two men glared at each other in a mutual distrust. Hugh Johnstone
pondered a moment, and said deliberately:

"I'll give you five accepted drafts for a thousand pounds each, when
I return from Calcutta, on Glyn, Carr & Glyn, my London bankers, dated
thirty days apart. That will make you sure of your money, and me, sure
of my Baronetcy. Will you act?" Hawke knocked the ash off his Havana
lightly.

"Yes, if you give me a thousand pounds cash bonus now! I am deliberately
misleading Anstruther to help you. And I risk my own place to do it."

"All right," said Johnstone as he left the room, and in a few moments
returned with a check-book. "There's your thousand pounds. Now listen.
Not a word to old General Willoughby. He is a meddlesome old sot. I
shall slip away quietly. To deceive the Delhi scandal-mongers you must
call here every day in my absence. Mademoiselle Delande will receive
you. My daughter, of course, sees no one in my absence. And you can
inform Delhi secretly, guardedly, that Madame Berthe Louison is an art
enthusiast, a Frenchwoman of rank and fortune, and one who, in her short
stay, only studies the wonders of old Oude. I don't want this damned
pack of local lady-killers--the lobster-backs--to get after her. Do you
understand? I'll have further use for you. I may retire to Europe. You
can trust the Swiss woman. I will give her my orders."

"All right! I will go and telegraph as soon as I can make my adieux.
When do you start for Calcutta?" Hawke asked warily.

"The moment you get Anstruther's reply," decisively replied Johnstone.
"I'll be away for a couple of weeks in all!" Hawke turned paler than
his wont, but he mused in silence and cheerfully finished his coffee
and cognac. In half an hour, he left an aching void in Justine Delande's
bosom, but some subtle magnetism had so drawn Berthe Louison and the
heart-stirred Justi