“Quite so,” said Mr. Travers; and the attention of the court was now directed to that despatch-box and the portrait of Bahadur Salak which it contained.  The history of the photograph, its importance at this moment when Salak’s trial impended, and Ballantyne’s conviction of the extreme danger which its possessor ran—­a conviction established by the bold attempt to steal it made under their very eyes—­was laid before the stipendiary.  He sent the case to trial as he was bound to do, but the verdict in most people’s eyes was a foregone conclusion.  Thresk had supplied a story which accounted for the crime, and cross-examination could not shake him.  It was easy to believe that at the very moment when Thresk was saying goodbye to Captain Ballantyne by the fire on the edge of the camp the thief slipped into the marquee, and when discovered by Ballantyne either on his return or later shot him with Mrs. Ballantyne’s rifle.  It was clear that no conviction could be obtained while this story held the field and in due course Mrs. Ballantyne was acquitted.  Of Thresk’s return to the tent just before leaving the camp nothing was said.  Thresk himself did not mention it and the counsel for the Crown had no hint which could help him to elicit it.

Thus the case ended.  The popular heroine of a criminal trial loses, as all observers will have noticed, her crown of romance the moment she is set free; and that good fortune awaited Stella Ballantyne.  Thresk called the next day upon Jane Repton and was coldly told that Stella had already gone from Bombay.  He betook himself to her solicitor, who was cordial but uncommunicative.  The Reptons, it appeared, were responsible to him for the conduct of the case.  He had not any knowledge of Stella Ballantyne’s destination, and he pointed to a stack of telegrams and letters as confirmation of his words.

“They will all go up to Khamballa Hill,” he said.  “I have no other address.”

The next day, however, a little note of gratitude came to Thresk through the post.  It was unsigned and without any address.  But it was in Stella Ballantyne’s handwriting and the post-mark was Kurrachee.  That she did not wish to see him he could quite understand; Kurrachee was a port from which ships sailed to many destinations; he could hardly set out in a blind search for her across the world.  So here, it seemed, was that chapter closed.  He took the next steamer westwards from Bombay, landed at Brindisi and went back to his work in the Law Courts and in Parliament.

CHAPTER XIII

LITTLE BEEDING AGAIN

But though she disappeared Stella Ballantyne was not in flight from men and women.  She avoided them because they did not for the moment count in her thoughts, except as possible hindrances.  She was not so much running away as running to the place of her desires.  She yielded to an impulse with which they had nothing whatever to do, an impulse so overmastering that even to the Reptons her precipitancy wore a look of ingratitude.  She drove home with Jane Repton as soon as she was released, to the house on Khamballa Hill, and while she was still in the carriage she said: