She seems not to wish me to come down.
I will be at the bungalow, then, on your arrival! I will give you
a letter for her," said Hawke. Ram Lal's eyes gleamed in anticipation
of the fat pickings of the Mem-Sahib. He pondered a moment over
the case.
"Then, I will go down myself," complacently said Ram Lal, with an
eye to future business. "You can tell her to trust to me in all
things. She shall travel like a queen!"
"That is better, and so I will telegraph to her, at Allahabad,
this afternoon, that I have sent you to meet her! Have a covered
carriage awaiting her here, and no one must be allowed to follow
her to her hidden nest. It is the making of your fortune with her!"
cried Hawke, as he lit a cheroot.
"Trust to me, Sahib!" answered the wily jewel merchant, relapsing
into an expectant silence. He already connected the arrival of the
beautiful foreigner with the destiny of the opulent man whom he
had revengefully watched for twenty years. Hugh Fraser Johnstone
had heaped up a fortune, but it was not yet successfully deported
to England.
"And the Swiss woman, when may I see her; this morning?" demanded
the adventurer, as he dropped into a cool, Japanese chair.
"My man will bring you the news of her coming!" answerd the oily
old miscreant. "I told him to watch her, and run on to warn me!"
Ram Lal was a wily old Figaro of much experience.
"Good! Then go outside and wait for her," coolly commanded the young
man.
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