"He is in his own room destroying papers," she said.

"Who told you this?"

"Ali, the _bowwab_, who is faithful to me--and who hates Fatimah."

"Is the trap rebolted?"

"I know not."

"Remain here until I return," I said, seating her upon one of the boxes. "Where are my keys?"

"I hid them upon the ledge of the window, beside the door yonder."

Taking them from this simple "hiding-place," I locked the door to give Mizmna courage, and, taking the lamp with me, began to mount the stairs, first a.s.suring myself of the presence in my pocket of my Colt automatic, which Ab Tabah had restored to me.

The ray of my lamp shining out ahead, I came to the crazy ladder giving access to the trap. I climbed up, raising the trap, and gazed upon the jeweled dome of midnight Egypt. Dire necessity spurred me, and I walked across to the adjoining trap, carefully inserted two fingers in the iron ring and pulled.

It was not fastened below! Inch by inch I raised it, and, finding the room beneath it to be in darkness, opened the trap fully and descended the ladder.

I flashed the light quickly about the place; then stood staring at what it revealed. My heart began to beat rapidly, for in that dirty attic I had found salvation ... and a further clue to the mystery of all my misfortunes.

It was a _hashish_ warehouse!

Taking off my shoes, I thrust one into either pocket of my jacket, and, perceiving that the house was constructed on a plan identical with that adjoining it, I crept downstairs to the apartment of the _mushrabiyeh_ window. A heavy curtain was draped in the doorway, but I could see that the room within was illuminated.

I drew the curtains slowly aside and peeped in. I saw an apartment that had evidently been furnished very luxuriantly, but which now was partially dismantled. In the recess formed by the window a low table was placed, bearing a shaded lamp. The table was littered with papers, account books and ledgers; and, seated thereat, his back towards the door, was a man who figured feverishly. I stepped into the room.

"Good evening, Yssuf of Rosetta," I said; "you do well to set your affairs in order."

V

Swiftly as though a serpent had touched him, the man in the recess leaped to his feet and twisted about to confront me.

I found myself looking into a hideous, swarthy face--blanched now to the lips, so that the cunning black eyes glared out as from a mask--into the hideous swarthy face of _Joseph Malaglou_!

The store of _hashish_ in the upper room had somewhat prepared me for this discovery; yet, momentarily, the consummate villainy of the Greek had me bereft of speech. As I stood there glaring at him, he began furtively to grope with one hand along the edge of the _diwan_ behind him. Then, suddenly, he became aware of the pistol which I carried--and abandoned the quest of whatever weapon he had sought, swallowing audibly.

"So, my good Malaglou," I said, "you sought to make me responsible for your sins, my friend? I perceive now how the Fates have played with me. My very first conversation with your charming protegee----"

He bit savagely at his black moustache, advanced upon me; then, his gaze set upon the Colt, he stood still again.

"... was reported to you by the traitorous Fatimah," I continued evenly; "and, when, on the morrow, I advised you of my new address, the ident.i.ty of the hitherto unknown Romeo who had raised his eyes to your Juliet became apparent. You doubtless had designed to unpack my boxes for me as you have been in the habit of doing; but green-eyed jealousy suggested how, by the sacrifice of only one consignment of _hashish_, you might wreak my ruin. I disapprove of your morals, Malaglou. My own code may be peculiar, but it does not embrace _hashish_ dealing; therefore, Malaglou, you are about to take a sheet of note-paper--bearing your office heading--and write from my dictation...."

"And suppose I refuse? You dare not shoot me!"

"You little know my true character, Malaglou. But I should not shoot you, as you say; I should introduce you to a gentleman who is very anxious to make your acquaintance--the venerable Sheikh Ismail."

The effect of this remark greatly exceeded my most sanguine expectations. I think I have never seen a man so pitiably frightened.

"The Sheikh ... Ismail!" gasped Joseph Malaglou. "He is in Cairo?"

"He has generously offered me five thousand pounds for your name and address."

"Ah, my G.o.d!" whispered Malaglou. "Kernaby, you will not betray me to that fiend? You are an Englishman and you will not soil your hands with such a deed!"

To my dismay--for it was a disgusting sight--Malaglou fell trembling upon his knees before me. The threat of shooting had had no such effect as the mere name of the Sheikh Ismail. My respect for that really remarkable old ruffian rose by leaps and bounds.

"Get up," I said harshly, "and, if you can, write."

He obeyed me; the man was almost hysterical. And, very shakily, this is what he wrote:

"I, Joseph Malaglou, also known as _Ahmed Ben Tawwab_, confess that I am a dealer in _hashish_ and spurious antiques, which I have been in the habit of storing at my warehouse in Cairo, and also in my private residence in the Darb el Ahmar. Finding it desirable to enlarge the facilities of the latter, I induced the Hon. Neville Kernaby, who is ignorant of my real business, to lease for me a house which adjoins my own, as I did not desire it to be known that I was the lessee. Subsequently, learning that the suspicions of the authorities had been aroused, I anonymously denounced Kernaby, thus hoping to avert suspicion from myself and cause his arrest as the consignee of the cases which had been delivered at the new premises."

"Very good," I said, when this precious doc.u.ment had been completed.

"You understand that you will now accompany me to the central police station in the Place Bab el-Khalk and sign this confession in the presence of suitable witnesses? You will doubtless be detained; therefore in the interests of your safety, we must arrange that Mizmna be hidden securely until the case is settled. Oh! set your evil mind at rest! I shall not betray you to the Sheikh; unless--"

I looked him squarely in the eyes--"any whisper of my name appears in this matter!"

"But where is she?" he said hoa.r.s.ely.

"She is hiding in the adjoining house."

"I have a small place at Shubra where I can conceal her."

"Very well. I will bring her here and permit you to make suitable arrangements, but let them be complete; for if Ismail should find the girl and thus discover your ident.i.ty, nothing could save you--and you will be unable to leave Cairo (I shall see to that) until the case is settled."

VI

It was on the following evening, as I sat smoking upon the terrace of the hotel and reflecting upon the execrably bad luck which pursued me, that I observed Ab Tabah mounting the carpeted steps with slow and stately carriage. He saluted me gravely and accepted the seat which I offered him.

My plan had run smoothly; Malaglou had given himself up to the authorities, but had been released upon payment of a substantial bail.

Mizmna was concealed at Shubra, and I was flogging my brain in a vain endeavor to conjure up a plan whereby, without betraying the villainous Greek and thus causing him to betray _me_, I might secure the Sheikh's reward--or, at least, the lapis armlet.

"Alas," said Ab Tabah, "that the wicked should prosper."

"To whose prosperity," I inquired, "do you more especially refer?"

He regarded me with his fine melancholy eyes.

"You have an English adage," he continued, "which says, 'set a thief to catch a thief.'"

"Quite so. But might I inquire what bearing this crystallized wisdom has upon our present conversation?"

"The man, Joseph Malaglou," he replied, "learning of the hue-and-cry after a certain missing damsel----"

I remember I was about to light a cigar as he uttered those words, but a dawning perception of the iniquitous truth crept poisonously into my mind, and I threw both cigar and matches over the rail into the Shara Kamel and clutched fiercely at the little table between us.

"And of the reward offered for her recovery," pursued the _imam_, "denounced to us, one Yssuf of Rosetta, a man owning a small house at Shubra. Yssuf had fled, and the only occupant of the place was the missing damsel Mizmna. Alas that fortune should so favor the sinful.