Finally the letter ends. He folds it carefully, looking at the dashing signature with some pride. He takes up a red seal, strikes a light, and drops a huge round of burning wax upon the envelope.
"The deed is done," thinks trembling Quamina; "the devil has been written to. He will scan those hasty words in his unholy abode, and bargain with the Sahib, till an arrangement shall be made."
Her suspicions increase as Quinton, listening once more at the door, snatches up a hat with a guilty air, creeping out into the broiling sun.
Quamina by this time is wild with curiosity, and as Carol hastens down the hill, the letter in his hand, she follows stealthily at a discreet distance.
"Perhaps he will give it himself to the devil. Ah, the poor Sahib!" she mutters.
Quinton never pauses till he is out of sight of the bungalow; then turning to his right he places the sealed envelope in a crevice of a rock, hidden from sight.
Quamina watches wonderingly the post-box of the devil.
She marks the spot in her mind's eye, and fearing detection hurries back unobserved.
For the rest of the day she thinks of nothing but the Sahib's letter, and its strange hiding place. She pictures the "Nâts" surrounding the spot, and bearing it in triumph to their chief.
She watches her master curiously, but by no sign does he reveal that anything unusual has occurred, save that he laughs more frequently, and seems as light-hearted and high spirited as a boy.