Lola, who had been lying on Angel's bed reading a novel, appeared yawning, with somewhat dishevelled hair and sleepy eyes. "So the great affair has fizzled out," she remarked, "and the mist is so dense nothing can be seen. How boring!" The general appeared a little later. He had dropped a rupee in his tent, and could not find it. He was singularly fond of money—if it had been a copper coin he would have kept the company waiting all the same. The dinner had commenced—indeed, it was half over—when there was a shout outside, the usual stentorian cry of the telegraph boy, "Tal agiar, tal agiar!" and a long message was handed to Gascoigne. He read it, and with a hasty apology hurried out; but he returned in a moment to say: "The lake will escape in an hour. I'm going up to the dam now." "But I thought it was _we_ who were to escape—not the lake," sneered Lola, reaching for the salt. She paused, saltspoon in hand, and gave a sharp exclamation. "My luck is gone—oh, I've lost my luck!" and the face she turned to Angel was as white as a sheet. "Why, what do you mean? What is it?" "A little charm I always wear on my bangle. I would not lose it for anything in the whole world. Oh, I shall never be happy until I find it." "Perhaps it is in my hut," suggested Angel. "When did you last see it?" "This morning, when I was turning out of that other cabin—which now seems to have been so unnecessary. Oh, I would not lose my lucky charm for a thousand pounds." "I daresay we shall find it. I'll help you as soon as you have finished. We will get a big hurricane lantern, and search everywhere. Is it very valuable—and what is it like?" "It has brought me no end of fortune," said Lola, rising as she spoke. "I must, and will find it—though it is only a little diamond skull." CHAPTER XXXIX TO DIE WITH YOU THE search in Angel's hut proved fruitless, although the dhurries were taken up, and the ayah passed her slim nervous hand over every inch of the floor, whilst her mistress held aloft the lantern, and Mrs. Waldershare—otherwise passive—poured forth passionate lamentations. "I'm certain I lost it in the lower hut," she announced, with a catch in her breath. "Give me the light, and I will go and look for it myself—I can never rest until it is found." "But the lake," objected Angel. "There may be great risk. Philip says it will come down in an hour." "Bah! I am not afraid," rejoined Lola, with profound scorn. "Those huts are well above water-mark, and it is only eight o'clock. I shall not be more than a few minutes; but I don't know the path in the dark. Ayah, you come, and I will give you five rupees." In reply to this appeal and bribe, the ayah shook her head, and said: "No, no, mem sahib—that not good—plenty water soon—soon coming." "Then I'll have to go alone—for go I will," she announced excitedly.