"Wear
this always, and think of me, Justine," he said. "You are the only
woman who ever loved me, and, if I succeed, I swear you shall share
my better fortunes--if not, then--" he crushed her to his breast
and ran out of the room, before she could drag him back. "Go
in, Francois, quickly to Miss Justine," cried Hawke, thrusting a
hundred-franc note in the butler's open hand. The rattle of departing
wheels was heard as Francois supported the half-fainting woman to
her carriage.
"Now for London," growled Major Hawke as the train dashed down the
Rhone valley. "I've got a clear alibi here. All my letters sent
to Justine will be forwarded to the Delhi Club. One day in London,
then to Granville, and Jack Blunt. They will only get Justine's
story if they shadow me, and if I can only hit it off right, at
Calcutta. Yes! there is the king luck of all. To give the whole
thing away to the baffled Viceroy. Then denounce Ram Lal to him as
the early confederate and later assassin of Hugh Fraser Johnstone!
These jewels that I have 'innocently received' will connect old
Ram Lal with Hugh Fraser's betrayed trust. I will hold the murder
business back at first.
"Ram Lal or his estate will be finally forced to cash my drafts. It
is clear that Johnstone and Ram Lal have either divided or hidden
the jewels. Yes! By God! I have it. If I can wring them out of the
old professor, or find them, I will then hide them away and secretly
report the whole affair to the Viceroy, in my chosen colors as a
friend of the Crown, and they'll give me a huge reward; my permanent
army rank will soon follow.
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