Within an hour of Thresk’s return from the solicitor’s office an Inspector of Police waited on him at his hotel and was instantly shown up.

“We did not know until to-day,” he said, “that you were still in Bombay, Mr. Thresk.  We believed you to be on the Madras, which reached Marseilles early this morning.”

“I missed it,” replied Thresk.  “Had you wanted me you could have inquired at Port Said five days ago.”

“Five days ago we had no information.”

The native servants of Ballantyne had from the first shrouded themselves in ignorance.  They would answer what questions were put to them; they would not go one inch beyond.  The crime was an affair of the Sahibs and the less they had to do with it the better, until at all events they were sure which way the wind was setting from Government House.  Of their own initiative they knew nothing.  It was thus only by the discovery of Thresk’s letter to Captain Ballantyne, which was found crumpled up in a waste-paper basket, that his presence that night in the tent was suspected.

“It is strange,” the Inspector grumbled, “that you did not come to us of your own accord when you had missed your boat and tell us what you knew.”

“I don’t think it is strange at all,” answered Thresk, “for I am a witness for the defence.  I shall give my evidence when the case for the defence opens.”

The Inspector was disconcerted and went away.  Thresk’s policy had so far succeeded.  But he had taken a great risk and now that it was past he realised with an intense relief how serious the risk had been.  If the Inspector had called upon him before he had made known his presence to Mrs. Ballantyne’s solicitor and offered his evidence, his position would have been difficult.  He would have had to discover some other good reason why he had lain quietly at his hotel during these last days.  But fortune had favoured him.  He had to thank, above all, the secrecy of the native servants.

CHAPTER XII

THRESK GIVES EVIDENCE

Thresk’s fears were justified.  Sympathy for Stella Ballantyne had already begun to wane.  The fact that Ballantyne had been found outside the door of the tent was already assuming a sinister importance.  Mrs. Ballantyne’s counsel slid discreetly over that awkward incident.  Very fortunately, as it was now to prove, he did not cross-examine the doctor from Ajmere at all.  But there are always the few who oppose the general opinion—­the men and women who are in the minority because it is the minority; those whom the hysterical glorification made of Stella Ballantyne had offended; the austere, the pedantic, the just, the jealous, all were quick to seize upon this disconcerting fact:  Stella Ballantyne had dragged her dying husband from the tent.  It was either sheer callousness or blind fury—­you might take your choice.  In either case it dulled the glow of martyrdom which for a week or two had been so radiant upon Stella Ballantyne’s forehead; and the few who argued thus attracted adherents daily.  And with the sympathy for Stella Ballantyne interest in the case began to wane too.