"My traveling bag, Jules," said the lady, in a careless tone.

There was a silence punctuated only by Alan Hawke's heavy breathing, until the silent servitor returned, bowing and departing without a word, as he placed the bag at Madame Louison's side.

With a businesslike air, the lady handed Alan Hawke a sealed letter, addressed simply: HUGH FRASER JOHNSTONE, ESQ., DELHI.
Near at hand, in the opened bag, the watchful Major saw the revolver and dagger once more which he had noted, at Lausanne.
"Let Ram Lal deliver that personally to the would-be Baronet, to-morrow morning at eight o'clock.

He is to say nothing.

There will be no reply," measuredly remarked the strange woman whose life as Alixe Delavigne had brought to her the legacy of an undying hatred for the man whom she was about to face.