Abû Tabâh!

I sat up.

“Be good enough, my friend,” I said, “to turn on the center lamp. The switch, as you have probably noted, is immediately to the left of the door.”

Abû Tabâh, straightening his figure and withdrawing his hand from beneath my pillow, inclined his picturesque head in grave salute and moved stately in the direction indicated. The room was flooded with yellow light. Its disorder was appalling; apparently no item of my gear had escaped attention.

“Pray take a seat,” I said; “this one close beside me.”

Abû Tabâh gravely accepted the invitation.

“This is the second occasion,” I continued, “upon which you have unwarrantably submitted me to a peculiar form of outrage——”

“Not unwarrantably,” replied Abû Tabâh, his speech suave and gentle; “but I fear I am too late!”

His words came as a beam of enlightenment. At last I had the game in my hands did I but play my cards with moderate cunning.

“You must pursue your inquiries in the harêm of the Bey,” I said.

Abû Tabâh shrugged his shoulders.

“The house of Yûssuf Bey has been watched,” he replied; “therefore my agents have failed me and must be punished.”

13

“They are guiltless. It was humanly impossible to perceive my entrance to the house,” I declared truthfully.

Abû Tabâh smiled into my face.

“So it was you who carried the sacred burko of the Seyyîdeh Nefîseh,” he said; “and to-night Ali Mohammed brought you the reward for your perilous journey.”

“Your reasoning is sound,” I replied, “and the accuracy of your information remarkable.”

I had scored the first point in the game; for I had learned that the wonderful silken yashmak, pearl embroidered, which I had found in the sandalwood box, was no less a curiosity than the face-veil of the Seyyîdeh Nefîseh and must therefore be of truly astounding antiquity and 

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