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Page 18
"Mr. Cavanagh?" he asked, speaking in faultless English.
"I am he."
"I learn that the services of a Moslem workman are required."
"Quite correct, sir; but you should apply at the offices of Messrs.
Rawson & Rawson, Chancery Lane."
The old man bowed, smiling.
"Many thanks; I understood so much. But, my position being a
peculiar one, I wished to speak with you--as a friend of the late
Professor."
I hesitated. The old man looked harmless enough, but there was an
air of mystery about the matter which put me on my guard.
"You will pardon me," I said, "but the work is scarcely of a kind--"
He raised his thin hand.
"I am not undertaking it myself. I wished to explain to you the
conditions under which I could arrange to furnish suitable porters."
His patient explanation disposed me to believe that he was merely
some kind of small contractor, and in any event I had nothing to
fear from this frail old man.
"Step in, sir," I said, repenting of my brusquerie--and stood
aside for him.
He entered, with that Oriental meekness in which there is
something majestic. I placed a chair for him in the study, and
reseated myself at the table. The old man, who from the first had
kept his eyes lowered deferentially, turned to me with a gentle
gesture, as if to apologize for opening the conversation.
"From the papers, Mr. Cavanagh," he began, "I have learned of the
circumstances attending the death of Professor Deeping. Your
papers"--he smiled, and I thought I had never seen a smile of
such sweetness--"your papers know all! Now I understand why a
Moslem is required, and I understand what is required of him. But
remembering that the object of his labours would be to place a
holy relic on exhibition for the amusement of unbelievers, can you
reasonably expect to obtain the services of one?"
His point of view was fair enough.
"Perhaps not," I replied. "For my own part I should wish to see
the slipper back in Mecca, or wherever it came from. But Professor
Deeping--"
"Professor Deeping was a thorn in the flesh of the Faithful!"
My visitor's voice was gravely reproachful.
"Nevertheless his wishes must be considered," I said, "and the
methods adopted by those who seek to recover the relic are such
as to alienate all sympathy."
"You speak of the Hashishin?" asked the old man. "Mr. Cavanagh, in
your own faith you have had those who spilled the blood of infidels
as freely!"
"My good sir, the existence of such an organization cannot be
tolerated today! This survival of the dark ages must be stamped
out. However just a cause may be, secret murder is not permissible,
as you, a man of culture, a Believer, and"--I glanced at his
unusual turban--"a descendant of the Prophet, must admit."
"I can admit nothing against the Guardian of the Tradition, Mr.
Cavanagh! The Prophet taught that we should smite the Infidel. I
ask you-have you the courage of your convictions?"
"Perhaps; I trust so."
"Then assist me to rid England of what you have called a survival
of the dark ages. I will furnish porters to remove and carry the
safe, if you will deliver to me the key!"
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