And the honest fellow became
even as wax in her hands; while the gloomy Hardwicke, in far-away
Delhi, eyed the parchment-faced Hugh Johnstone in mute wonder,
at the long official reception in the Marble House. "Will he not
vouchsafe to me even one word of thanks?" thought the young man,
in an increasing wonder.
But, Ram Lal Singh, when Major Alan Hawke drew him into the sanctum
behind the shop, showed a dark face, seamed with lines of care.
"There will be some terrible happening!" muttered the smooth old
Mohammedan.
He had good gift of the world's gear, and now preferred the role of
fox to lion. "She knows nothing as yet. I waited till I could see
you. I dared not to tell her. She only fancies that this official
visit of the General-Sahib from Calcutta will, of course, take up
all their time at the marble house. But she begs me to watch them
all, and she has given me some little presents--money presents."
Hawke winced, but in silence. His employer trusted him not. Here
was proof positive.
"How in the devil's name did they get away without you knowing of
it?" demanded Hawke. "If you are lying to me, Ram Lal, we may lose
both our pickings from this fat pagoda tree. You see old Johnstone
may slip away after the girl. He may leave here with Abercromby."
The jewel merchant's eyes gleamed with a smoldering fire. "Johnstone
Sahib will not leave Delhi. It is in the stars! He has too much here
to leave.
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