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Page 53
"There is one about to visit you," he said, "whom you know, whom I
think you expect. For it is written that she shall come and such
events cast a shadow before them. I, too, shall be present at your
meeting!"
His eagle eyes opened widely; they burned with fanaticism.
"Already she is here!" he resumed suddenly, and bent as one
listening. "She comes under the archway; she crossed the courtyard
--and is upon the stair! Admit her, effendim; I shall be close
behind you!"
The door-bell rang.
With the consciousness that the black tube was directed toward the
back of my head, I went and opened the door. My mind was at work
again, and busy with plans to terminate this impossible situation.
On the landing stood a girl wearing a simple white frock which
fitted her graceful figure perfectly. A white straw hat, of the New
York tourist type, with a long veil draped from the back suited her
delicate beauty very well. The red mouth drooped a little at the
corners, but the big violet eyes, like lamps of the soul, seemed
afire with mystic light.
"Mr. Cavanagh," she said, very calmly and deliberately, "there is
only one way now to end all this trouble. I come from the man who
can return the slipper to where it belongs; but he wants his price!"
Her quiet speech served completely to restore my mental balance, and
I noted with admiration that her words were so chosen as to commit
her in no way. She knew quite well that thus far she might appear
in the matter with impunity, and she clearly was determined to say
nothing that could imperil her.
"Will you please come in?" I said quietly--and stood aside to
admit her.
Exhibiting wonderful composure, she entered--and there, in the
badly lighted hallway came face to face with my other visitor!
It was a situation so dramatic as to seem unreal.
Away from that tall figure retreated the girl with the violet eyes
--and away--until she stood with her back to the wall. Even in
the gloom I could see that her composure was deserting her; her
beautiful face was pallid.
"Oh, God!" she whispered, all but inaudible--"You!"
Hassan, grasping the black rod in his hand, signed to her to enter
the study. She stood quite near to me, with her eyes fixed upon
him. I bent closer to her.
"My revolver--in left-hand table drawer," I breathed in her ear.
"Get it. He is watching me!"
I could not tell if my words had been understood, for, never taking
her gaze from the Sheikh of the Assassins, she sidled into the study.
I followed her; and Hassan came last of all. Just within the
doorway he stood, confronting us.
"You have come," he said, addressing the girl and speaking in
perfect English but with a marked accent, "to open your impudent
negotiations through Mr. Cavanagh for the return of the thrice holy
relic to the Museum! Your companion, the man, who is inspired by
the Evil One, has even dared to demand ransom for the slipper from
me!"
Hassan was majestic in his wrath; but his eyes were black with
venomous hatred.
"He has suffered the penalty which the Koran lays down; he has lost
his right hand. But the lord of all evil protects him, else ere
this he had lost his life! Move no closer to that table!"
I started. Either Hassan of Aleppo was omniscient or he had
overheard my whispered words!
"Easily I could slay you where you stand!" he continued. "But to
do so would profit me nothing. This meeting has been revealed to
me. Last night I witnessed it as I slept. Also it has been
revealed to me by Erroohanee, in the mirror of ink, that the slipper
of the Prophet, Salla-'llahu 'ale yhi wasellem! Shall indeed return
to that place accursed, that infidel eyes may look upon it! It is
the will of Allah, whose name be exalted, that I hold my hand, but
it is also His will that I be here, at whatever danger to my
worthless body."
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