With dreaming eyes Hawke mused: "It would never do to tell any part of that story.

What business had I there ?" And, without a tremor, he stood by the General's side as they gazed on the dead millionaire's body still lying on the floor.
"I will now send for the civil authorities, and you, Major Hawke, will represent me in the investigation.

Your military future hangs on this.
Remember, now, that the Viceroy looks to you alone! I will return here after tiffin.

I will have some personal instructions for you." And Alan Hawke now saw the farther shore of his voyage of life gleaming out as General Willoughby left him to confer with the arriving magistrates and civil police.

"I shall marry you, my veiled Rose of Delhi, and be master here yet, in this Marble House, and, by God, I'll die a general, too!" he swore, with which pleasing prophecy Major Alan Hawke calmly took up the varied secret duties which joined a Viceroy's secret orders to the will of the General commanding.
"I am a devil for luck!" he mused as he gazed down on the old man's shrunken and withered dead face.