Evening star., 1917-05-27

dered. For the gust of ice-cold air was
now striking me in the back. There
from the outside. The scented night
air was warm and absolutely quiet, and
the window curtains of sleazy Grape
hung limp and motionless.
/ looked about me, slowly, cautiously.
Every door was closed. 7 fastened the
outside shutters, then the windows
themselves. and drew down the blinds.
l examined the floor and the ceiling:
studied the wall inch by inch. But
there was no place where even the
weakest, gentleSt breath of air could
blow through.
Even as 1 walked about the room the
gust of wind seemed to follow me
about, striking me in the face; and
again, as 1 turned. striking me in the
back And suddenly had the sensa-
tion that the shaft Of cold air--for 1t
was a shaft-was swinging clear
around and sweeping ahead of me with
a whistling, sucking noise, as If point
ing the way-as if ordering me to fol-
low,
And I did follow
1t led me through my bedroom.
through my dressing room, across the
width of the little private dining room
straight up against the door of Mas
casenhas' bedroom.
Then, as startingly sudden as it had
come. the cold air disappeared Once
more the night was still and warm.
1 open it? Should walk in and see
sood heavens! What did I expect to
see?
The half-caste had been faithful serv-
ant, a loyal and fearless ally in the
past. In my fight with Hussain Khan
his help had been absolutely invaluable
And here I was, suspecting his loyalty
because of some wild notion that a
gust Of wind had led me up to the door
of his bedroom.
TN
sayed a laugh: But it was a miserable
fiasco. Again I looked at the door
Again my hand closed instinctively
around the metal knob. Should I go in?
On the other side of the door was
Mascasenhas-a white man. yes. but
only half white. For he was from Goa
Hindu and Persian and gulf Arab had
mixed their blood with the strain of
those old piratical conquistadores who
had sailed out of Lisbon to help them
selves to the world at large.
Once or twice during the past few
months 1 had caught a suspicion OF ar
rogance and defiance In his manner to-
ward me. Again had thought could
see gleam Of fanatical, ghoulish hat
red in his deep-burning. gold-fecked
eyes. And on three distinct occasions
had imagined that I could see a scar
let smudge on his forehead: a scarlet
smudge which, in it's hazy outlines. re-
sembled the cast-mark of those who do
worship at the feet of Doorgha, the
black-faced goddess of destruction.
But what of it? These things were
only hallucinations, only strange incl
dents out OF life's grab-bag. I could not
let them tangle the skein of hard, sensi-
BILE facts. And the fact remained that
I needed him in my search for the One
Man. He knew Asia He could and
would help me as long as he remained
loyal. And so 1t was up to me TO keep
him loyal In spite OF all my foolish. fam
cied imaginings.
His was the curse of the half breed.
On the edge of nascent danger the
moral heritage of his white ancestors
would shrink into instantaneous abey-
ance, and the strain of timid Hindu
blood would come to the surface with a
pop.
Hindu blood. And so l knew his mad
notion that the soul of the dead Hus-
sain Khan had found an asylum in his
body-had become part of his own soul.
/ had only to consider that his mad
ness was just passing temporary
phase. and that, cleared from the mist
begotten paralysis of inherited super
stitions and fear, the mans soul shone
out strong and sweet and sane and
loyal
So turned away from the door. With
firm steps 1 walked in the direction of
my apartment. At last / would rest.
AT last ] would sleep.
But as j crossed the threshold of the
suddenness the cold gust of air piped
up again from nowhere and struck me
squarely between the eyes.
This time i did not wait to reason
or 10 think. I did not allow my COM
mon sense to parley and compromise
with my imagination. I acted.
Whirling on my heels L rushed back
to Mascasenhas' bedroom and opened
the door.
The room was in darkness.
For several slow-dragging seconds L
peered into it through half-closed eye
lids. Finally. l made out the contour
of the bed. 1t was smooth, tight and
undisturbed. The Goanese had not silent
in it that night.
In the far corner of the room 1 could
make out the dim silhouette of a figure
bending over a trunk, busily lingering
the contents of the top layer with
quick. agile, nervous movements
turning over things. dropping them
negligently on the f1oor-but still fin
gering, as II searching for something
II WAS Mascasenhas
But what was he doing there in The
dark? What could he be doing there
in the dark?
! gathered my wits and my voice and
called to him:
''Masca senhas. Hey, there Masca s.
enhas. What are You doing ther@"
The man did sot answer by word or
gesture. He did not turn. II was evil
dent that he had not heard me; that
he had no; even noticed Inc fretsr,
shaft of yellow light which Uttered in