CHAPTER X.A CAPTIVATED VICEROY.
There were several "late parties" in sumptuous Delhi, on the evening when Madame Berthe Louison drove quietly to the railway station at two o'clock.

A little knot of tired officials were still on duty, and when some forerunner had given a private signal, a single car, drawn by a powerful locomotive, glided out of the darkness.
In a few moments a dozen trunks and a score of bags and bundles were tossed aboard the baggage van.

Five persons stepped nimbly aboard, and then with no warning signal, the Lady of the Silver Bungalow was borne out into the darkness, racing on toward Calcutta with the swiftness of the wind.
Jules Victor, vigorous and alert, after several cups of cafe noir, well dashed with cognac, disposed his two Lefacheux revolvers in readiness, and then betook himself to a nap.

His bright-eyed wife was in the compartment with her beautiful mistress, and ready to sound a shrill Gallic alarm at any moment.

She gravely eyed the two escorting officials of the bank.