"The day after to-morrow, at the same time," said Alan Hawke, his
heart leaping up in a secret victory, "but no living soul must ever
know of it. I will be here in the pagoda, waiting for you. Ram Lal
will wait for you himself and admit you. Do you promise?" he said,
with a glance which set her pallid cheeks aflame.

"I promise! I promise! Let me go, now!" gasped the excited woman.
With stately courtesy, the Major then led her back into the jewel
merchant's luxurious lounging-room.

"Wait here for a single moment!" he whispered as he quickly poured
out a glass of cordial. And, then, returning in a few moments, he
clasped upon the woman's wrist a bracelet of old Indian gold, whose
flexible links glittered with the fire of a row of old Indian mine
stones. Justine Delande sat mute, as if dreaming.

"Our little secret is now all our own!" he pleasantly murmured.
"Remember! Should we meet at the marble house, you do not know me!
Can you trust yourself? You must--for my sake! This will help you
to remember our first meeting."

"You may depend upon me, whenever you may wish to call upon me,"
she whispered. "I will come!" and then she fled away, with soft,
gliding steps, to regain the safety of her own room before the
trying hour of tiffin.

Major Alan Hawke closed the door, and laughed softly as he threw
himself into a chair. "They are all the same!" he mused. "Not a
bad morning's work! For she will never tell our little secret! And
she will surely come again! She may be my salvation here! Madame