There was no ink in the bedroom; Dick took her into the place he called his study, and locked the door, glad of the excuse.  He was minded to know more of the intrigue before letting his wife go off again that night on any wild adventure, second thoughts having stirred his caution.  He began by offering to lend her money, suspecting that a fugitive princess would need that more than anything.  But she replied by drawing out from her bosom a packet containing thousands of rupees in Bank of India notes, and gave him money instead—­not much, but she forced it on him.

“For the three beggars.  Ten rupees each.  Pay it them in silver in the morning.  They have been very useful often, and may be so again.”

He watched her write the letter and seal the envelope.  Then: 

“Say,” he said, “don’t you think you’d be doing right by telling me more of this?  I’ll say nothing to a soul, but that little girl you’re wanting to run off with is my wife, and I’ll admit I’m kind o’ concerned on her account.”

Yasmini met his iron-gray eyes, judged him and found him good.

“I never trusted man yet, not even the husband I shall marry, with all I shall tell you,” she answered.  “Will you give me silence in return for it?”

“Mum as the grave,” he answered.  And Dick Blaine kept his word, not even hinting to Tess on the long drive afterward that there had been as much as a question asked or confidence exchanged.  And Tess respected the silence, not deceived for a minute by it.  He and Yasmini had been longer in that room together than any one-page letter needed, and she was sure there was only one subject they discussed.

Dick brought Yasmini’s horse to the gate, not to the door, and she mounted outside in the road for additional precaution.  Instantly, then, without a word of farewell she was off like the wind down-hill.

“It’ll be all over town tomorrow that I’m dead or dying, if anybody sees her!” Dick told his wife.  “They’ll swear that was you, Tess, riding full pelt for the doctor!”

Soon after that Tom Tripe came, and made Chamu hold a light for him while he searched the cellar.

“Hold the candle and your tongue too, confound you!” he told the grumbling butler, indignant at being brought from bed.

Dick had already put the silver tube in place.  Tom Tripe raised the stone and saw it—­uttered a tremendous oath—­and dropped the heavy stone back over the hole.

“What are you doing?” Dick demanded from the ladder-head, appearing with a lantern from behind the raised trap.

“Looking for rum!” Tom answered.  Then he turned on Chamu.  “Did you see what I saw?  Speak a word of it, you devil, and I’ll tear your throat out!  Silence, d’you understand?”

“Come out of there!” Dick ordered angrily.  “I’ll have to lock this cellar door!  I can’t have people prospecting down there!  I’ve got reasons of my own for keeping that cellar undisturbed!  I’m surprised at you, Tom Tripe, taking advantage of me when my back’s turned!”