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Page 8
"But you must explain the meaning of your note!"
"I cannot! I cannot! Please do not ask me!"
She was breathless from her flight and seemed to be trembling.
From behind the cloud her eyes shone brilliantly, mysteriously.
I was sorely puzzled. The whole incident was bizarre--indeed, it
had in it something of the uncanny. Yet I could not detain the girl
against her will. That she went in apprehension of something, of
someone, was evident.
Past the head of the passage surged the noisy realities of Fleet
Street. There were men there in quest of news; men who would
have given much for such a story as this in which I was becoming
entangled. Yet a story more tantalizingly incomplete could not
well be imagined.
I knew that I stood upon the margin of an arena wherein strange
adversaries warred to a strange end. But a mist was over all.
Here, beside me, was one who could disperse the mist--and would
not. Her one anxiety seemed to be to escape.
Suddenly she raised her veil; and I looked fully into the only
really violet eyes I had ever beheld. Mentally, I started. For
the face framed in the snowy fur was the most bewitchingly lovely
imaginable. One rebellious lock of wonderful hair swept across
the white brow. It was brown hair, with an incomprehensible
sheen in the high lights that suggested the heart of a blood-red
rose.
"Oh," she cried, "promise me that you will never breathe a word
to any one about my visit!"
"I promise willingly," I said; "but can you give me no hint?"
"Honestly, truly, I cannot, dare not, say more! Only promise that
you will do as I ask!"
Since I could perceive no alternative--
"I will do so," I replied.
"Thank you--oh, thank you!" she said; and dropping her veil again
she walked rapidly away from me, whispering, "I rely upon you. Do
not fail me. Good-bye!"
Her conspicuous white figure joined the hurrying throngs upon the
pavement beyond. My curiosity brooked no restraint. I hurried to
the end of the courtway. She was crossing the road. From the
shadows where he had lurked, a man came forward to meet her. A
vehicle obstructed the view ere I could confirm my impression; and
when it had passed, neither my lovely visitor nor her companion
were anywhere in sight.
But, unless some accident of light and shade had deceived me, the
man who had waited was Ahmad Ahmadeen!
It seemed that some astral sluice-gate was raised; a dreadful sense
of foreboding for the first time flooded my mind. Whilst the girl
had stood before me it had been different--the mysterious charm of
her personality had swamped all else. But now, the messenger gone,
it was the purport of her message which assumed supreme significance.
Written in odd, square handwriting upon the pale amethyst paper,
this was the message--
Prevail upon Professor Deeping to place what he has in the brown
case in the porch of his house to-night. If he fails to do so,
no power on earth can save him from the Scimitar of Hassan.
A FRIEND.
CHAPTER III
"HASSAN OF ALEPPO"
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