"A Mrs. Rayner reigns—and her not me! So this is your little game? Why, it's the same joke they used to make to me when you came sweethearting—'Mrs. Rayner would reign!' You false snake! But I'll be even with you yet or my name's not Leila Baltus! You can go back to your lovelee English bride, but my word, you're not done with her you fooled," she hissed as she made a step forward, holding out her thin fingers as if to return the rupee note, but on second thoughts she crushed it in her palm again. "No, we shan't be ten rupees poorer anyhow because of the woman who has supplanted me! I'll just hand it on to my poor mother to pay for the prawn curries she wasted on an ungrateful toad!" she muttered, turning her back swiftly on the young man and hurrying away.
Alfred Rayner stood for a moment watching the slender swaying figure disappearing down the leafy road, then he turned homeward, muttering: "Don't fancy I've scotched her. That horrid vixen will give me trouble yet! What a pity I gave her that money when I can ill spare it with all my heavy expenses. Depend upon it, she'll be upon me for another note before long! I've a good mind to make a clean breast of it to Hester. She's no fool, she'll understand when I give her my side of the story that I'm simply being persecuted and blackmailed by a half-caste liar!"
Having decided on this course he walked briskly towards the house, taking the stable-entrance which happened to be nearest the part of the road where he he had been talking with his old acquaintance.
CHAPTER VIII.
Hester, having bandaged Rosie's tortured fingers, tried to return to her letters for the English mail, but she could not put her heart into them, for she felt dispirited and ill at ease. Evil seemed triumphing, trouble falling on the innocent and helpless, and the loving God, to Whom she had tried to point Rosie in their quiet hours, appeared to be taking no notice. Mrs. Harbottle's bitter taunts still rang in her ears, and these poor mutilated fingers which she had just been binding up—were they not sufficient evidence of the malignant fate which had descended on the child's innocent head?
As she was a prey to these disquieting thoughts she heard footsteps on the gravel-sweep below. Hoping that it was her husband and friend returning, she looked out, for she was eager to consult them as to what should be done to prove Rosie's innocence, of which she was completely convinced. Great was her surprise when she saw coming up the broad white steps, not her husband, but the "elusive Mr. Morpeth," as she had dubbed him to Mrs. Fellowes. She decided that he must have called to see Mark, but presently the butler came bringing her a card on his tray and saying: "One old Dorai want to speak to Missus."
So the visit was for her after all! She hurried downstairs to find her visitor in the verandah with a bright smile on his face. No, he would not come in, he just wanted to bring her some good news. He went on to explain that he had heard the lamentation of her little maid behind the hedge as he passed the compound, and had also overheard Mrs. Harbottle stormily charging the child with the theft of her ring.
"I passed on," said Mr. Morpeth, "feeling very sorry for the child whose voice seemed to ring true when she assured me, 'I never done take that ring.' I got into my carriage again and presently I saw two kites having a duel almost above my head, then something bright fell through the air. I called my syce to stop, and keeping my eye on the spot where the kite had dropped its booty, I picked up this."
Mr. Morpeth held out the recovered ring.