Miss Genie was at his side, pouting, petulant, provokingly pretty and duly agnostic as to the Polish prince.
A week later, Alan Hawke stood on the deck of the Sepoy, as that reliable vessel steamed out of Brindisi harbor for Bombay.

He was watching a lace handkerchief, waved by a graceful woman, standing alone upon the pier.

The adventurer drew a silver rupee from his pocket, and then gayly tossed it into the waves, crying, "Here's for luck!" as he watched the slender, distant, womanly figure move up the pier.

There lay the Empress of India with steam now curling from her stacks, ready to follow on to Calcutta.

"I have not broken her lines yet," murmured Major Hawke as he paced the deck, "but I have her pretty well surrounded, cunning as she is!" and so he complacently ordered his first bottle of pale ale..