"Ay," assented Abdul Buk, "and you must have laks by now." He paused and looked at her reflectively; then he said: "Why do you not spend it instead of hoarding? Why not enjoy the money before"--he paused, then he added--"you are found out." "Cha-a-h! I will never be found out!" she answered shrilly. "I love handling money; it is in my blood. I get it from Lopez, my father. He left me no fortune, with all his once great riches." "Of a truth his riches did _him_ no good; he died a ruined man." "But he left me a legacy," rejoined Mrs. Chandos; "his books, his accounts, the names of his clients and his methods. I found them all in an old box, when my mother came to live with me. They have been of value." "Take my advice and wind up now," urged Abdul Buk. "I feel a presentiment of evil. Lo! I see a little cloud, like a man's hand, as it says in your book which I have read. I fear Salwey--some day he will discover all; he is working, working, working. You will have your veil torn off, and be known through the province as the accursed Saloo, whilst I may be cast into prison. Anyway, I lose my honour." "Abdul Buk, you are a coward; you ought to be the old woman, I, the man." "So you say," he exclaimed with sullen scorn. "What of Hirzat Sing?" "He wails and weeps and prays to be suffered to die in his ancestral home." "He is a tiresome old fool and can no longer till the ground to good profit. All I made last year on that acre and a half of cane was one hundred rupees--he must go." "It will kill him!" "Even so!" was the callous reply; "it were time he were dead! And now what of the money belonging to my daughter, Verona? Have you put it out to a good charge?" "Yes; four thousand rupees," he replied, "to build an oil mill; twenty-five per cent. They cannot pay, so the interest will be compound." "And the jewels, Abdul. Are there no tidings?" "No, though Salwey seeks them everywhere." "True; he wanted to search here, but I said no. He might have found other matters. Yet it is past belief that there is no trace of them. What sayest thou, Abdul?" Abdul nodded his head three times, but made no other reply. "I put them in the bag myself. It was not locked, but I locked the press, and the door of the dufta, and some one came in and broke the press at the back and took the necklace, the watch, a gold bangle and rings. Think of it!" "Truly this district has an evil name for thieves and budmashes. The robber has carried the jewels to the city, and they are doubtless ere now broken up and sent to Delhi." "You think, Abdul, there is no chance of ever getting them back or of finding the things?" enquired his employer as she settled her elbows on the table and stared at him fixedly. "None; truly 'tis but a loss of time!" "How lucky that I kept out the beautiful diamond and emerald pendant. It is worth all the rest. Such stones!"