"This may be my one anchor of safety!" gasped the wondering Johnstone,
as Alan Hawke came dashing into the grounds. In half an hour, the
broken entente cordiale was restored, and Johnstone had slipped
away and questioned the wary Ram Lal.
"All I know is that the lady hired the house temporarily from me,
I am agent for Runjeet Hoy, who owns it now. She went without a
word, and gave me three hundred pounds yesternight, for her rent
and supplies. I asked the Mem-Sahib no questions. She went away
all by herself, in the middle of the night."
"Ah! You know nothing more?" sharply queried Johnstone.
"Of course not! I thought you, or Hawke Sahib, or General Wilhoughby,
was a secret friend." Slyly said Ram Lal.
"She owes you nothing? You do not expect her to return?" the nabob
cried.
"I think she has gone to Calcutta! She came from there."
"Come to-night, privately, Ram Lal. I'll show you how to get
in. Just tap at my bedroom window three times. Come secretly, at
eleven o'clock, and find out all you can. Wait in the garden till
the house is dark. I'll pay you well," continued Johnstone, leading
the old jeweler to his bedroom. "I will leave this one window
unfastened. So you can come in! The room will be dark!"
"The Sahib shall be obeyed!" said Ram Lal, salaaming to the
ground, and he was happy at heart as he glided out of the garden.
A ferocious smile of coming triumph gleamed in his dark face.
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