In the night train, speeding back to Geneva, Major Hawke remembered some old desperate associates of an enforced “social eclipse” at Granville-sur-Mer. “With a half a dozen resolute fellows I might hang around Jersey and, perhaps, force my way into the stronghold. It depends on where the mansion is located. If the jewels are there, I will either have them or else bend the old man to my will by threatened disclosures. But I must first fool Anstruther and my pretty employer. If Justine had only remained at Jersey I might have easily won my way to the girl’s side. And yet she will be under a long three years guardianship.” Some busy devil at his side whispered: “She would be helpless if she were carried off.” And as the enraged schemer finished the last of a dozen cigars and took a pull at his pocket flask, he disposed himself to sleep, grumbling. “They have upset all the chessmen. Old Fraser and the Louison, too, are playing at cross purposes--evidently. They have, however, spoiled my little game. I will spoil theirs!” He grinned as he decided “I will do a bit of the Romeo act with Justine, and come back by Granville to Boulogne. If the old gang is to be found there, I may get one of them to spy the whole thing out. All these Jersey people are half French in their birth and ways. I can sneak some fellow in from Granville. There might be a chance. I’ll get to the old fellow, or the girl, or the jewels--by God! I will! For I hold the trump cards.” And yet his flattering hopes of gaining a permanent rank returned to affright him in planning such a bold deed. “Ah! I must get some trusty fellow--perhaps, in London,” he muttered as his head dropped, and the train bore him on to the halls of learning, where poor Justine was now weeping on her sister’s bosom, and unveiling all the secrets of a hungry heart to the sympathetic Euphrosyne. But, saddest of all the coterie who had trodden the tessellated floors of the marble house at Delhi, was a lonely girl sobbing herself to sleep, that very night, in a gray castellated mansion house perched upon a sunny cliff of Jersey. The fair gardens and splendid halls of the luxurious home seemed but the limits of a cheerless prison to the broken-hearted girl who had been astounded when her one friend, Douglas Fraser, the companion of a thirty-five days’ journey, left her without a word. Nadine Johnstone had opened her heart, shyly, to her manly young kinsman, Douglas Fraser. And yet she guarded, as only a maiden’s heart can, the secret of the blossoming love for Hardwicke--the man who had saved her life. She asked her hungry heart if he would follow on her way, led by the appeal of her shining eyes.