I leave the property with Willoughby here.

I'll go down in the morning, if you'll fix me up." And then, Johnstone signing to Major Alan Hawke, who had been the cynosure of all eyes, as he gracefully led Madame la Generate Willoughby through a lanciers, took the favorite of fortune aside.
"Make your adieux! Get out of here! Settle all your little affairs! Send all your traps over to my house! General Abercromby wants to slip away quietly in the morning! No one is to know! And you go with him, at his urgent request." And that very evening at Calcutta, Alixe Delavigne would have laughed in triumph to know of Hugh Johnstone's strange eagerness to dispatch his amorous guest.

For the lady--in the safe haven of the great banker's home--had just returned from a captivated Viceroy, who had instantly recalled Abercrornby by a dispatch to be "obeyed forthwith." "You, Madame, have laid me under an obligation which I can never forget," said the graceful statesman.

The list of Ram Lal was in his hands now! And so Hugh Johnstone was highly pleased, and Madame Berthe Louison, still in her masquerade, was happy, and the watchful Commanding-General Willoughby was more than pleased; and the now doubly hopeful Major Alan Hawke rejoiced, while General Abercromby knew that the "little party" was waiting him in Calcutta.

But most of all pleased was Ram Lal Singh, clutching in his dreams at the dagger of Mirzah Shah, lying there by his bedside.