"Listen--he is one they call the 'Honourable.' At night he often came out here to meet Dom--they thought no one knew. Cha-a-ah!" snapping her fingers; "it was the talk of the bazaar. It came not to the knowledge of the station folk--save of Salwey--who knows all things." "But about to-day, Nani?" "Oh, yes, Dom goes to-day, and she is packing now," she added tranquilly. "It must be stopped," said Verona, suddenly rising to her feet. "Think of the shame and disgrace! your own grandchild!" "Nay, you are my grandchild, also Pussy--and my best of all is gone. Aré, Hai! Hai! But Dom is naught. I know her, and keep my own counsel. I have two ears--but one tongue. I meddle not with Dom. No! 'Let everyone sweep before his own door'!" "Oh, Nani, tell me what you know--and how you know it?" "How I know I will keep to myself, but _what_ I know--is this. There is the gate, half a mile beyond the factory, where by signal the train stops for sugar and passengers. At night, when one would travel that way, old Jaggerie shows a lamp--he will show it at ten o'clock, when the mail for the north goes by. The plan is this. Dom, with her luggage carried by a syce, will be there and meet the train. Her lover is in it--they go together to Cashmere." "But he is in the Terai shooting," interrupted her listener. "He is not there now. Dom's letters have recalled him to her. You go into her room and see if I do not speak truly. Then come back." Verona entered her sister's apartment, immediately after her knock, and found her busily engaged in rolling up clothes into the smallest space, and stuffing them into a leather bag, over which she threw a cloak instantly--an instant too late. She looked hot and flushed. "What is it?" she asked, peevishly; "what do you want? A paper? Goody me! what paper?" "_Truth._" "Then it is not here, so now," with a stamp of her foot, "you go; go, go, go. I am busy." "Well?" enquired Mrs. Lopez, when Verona had returned. "Yes, you are right. We must think of something?" "You suppose you can stop her--the Red Cat--no, better let her go." "Oh, Nani, no. Think of father, and do help me!" "If you have a stout heart--it can be done. Verona, see, you take Zorah, my woman, you wear a dark frock, and lie in wait near Jaggerie's hut. When he hears the train coming, about one mile away or less, he raises the lamp and shows light. He is old and very fat; but you are young. You throw a cloth over light, and run away and blow it out. No light, no train, you see--and so--Dom will be left." "It is a splendid idea. I think I can manage to carry it out, Nani, unless there is some other plan. Would you tell mother?" "No; does she ever gainsay Dom?" "Then Pussy?" "She would but laugh and cry and let them go. No, you are the only one, and Zorah may be trusted. You snatch the light--she will hide it."