The Washington times., 1919-05-02

when a ray from a deck light fell
across his shadowy path-unusually
small eyes set little too close to-
gether to inspire confidence. Nor
had the mans slight accent escaped
him-not a Teutonic accent, he
though, but something fuller and
softer-something that originated
east of Scutari, suggesting the Eu-
rasian, perhaps.
But Neeland's sobernesa was Of
volatile quality; before he arrived
at his stateroom he had recovered
his gayety OF spirit He glanced
ironically at the closed door Of
Golden Beard as he fitted his key
into his own door.
"a lively lot" he thought to him
self, what with Scheherazade,
Golden Beard, and now Ali Baba-
by jinx!-he certainly did have an
Oriental Yoice!-and he looked the
part, too, with a beak for q nose
and a black mustache a Ia Enver
Pashar'
Much diverted by his own waxing
imagination, he turned on the light
in his stateroom, filed the cigarette
case, turned to go out, and saw on
the carpet just inside his door a
bit OF white paper folded cooked hat
fashion and addressed to him
Finds Letter Waiting Hin.
Picking it up and unfolding it, he
read:
May I see you this evening" at
II? Ny stateroom Is 623. II there
is anybody in the corridor. knock;
II not, come in without knocking.
'I mean no harm to you I give
my word OF honor. Please accept Il
for as much as your personal cour-
age makes it worth to you-its
face value, or nothing.
knowing you, may say without
hattery that expect you. II am
disappointed, L still must bear wit
ness to your courage and to a gen
erosity not characteristic Of your
sex.
"You have had both power and
provocation to make my voyage on
this ship embarrassing. You have
not done so. And seIf-restraint in a
man is a very deadly weapon to
use on a woman.
"I hope you will come. I desire
to be generous on my part. Ask
yourself whether you are able. to
believe this. You don't know wom-
en-, Mr.. Neeland. Your conclusion
probably VIII be a wrong one.
But I think you'll come, all the
same. And you will be right In
coming, whatever you believe.
else DUMONT."
It was q foregone conclusion that
he would go. He knew It before
he had read half the note. And
when he finished it he was certain
Amused. his curiosity excited,
grateful that the adventure had not
yet entirely ended, he lighted a Gig
arctic and looked impatiently at his
watch.
1t lacked half an hour Of the ap-
pointed time and his exhilaration
was steadily increasing.
He stuck the note into the frame
OF his mirror over the washstand with
a vague idea that,tf anything hap
pened to him this would furnish a
clue to his whereabouts.
Then he thought of the steward,
but, although he had no reason to
believe the girl who had written
him, something within him made
him ashamed to notify the steward
as to where he was going. He
ought to have done it; common
prudence born Of experience with
Ilse Dumont suggested it. And yet
he could not bring himself to do 1t;
and exactly why, he did not under
stand.
Preparations For EVentuaIItIes.
One thing. however. he could do:
and he did. He wrote a note to
Captain West giving the Paris ad-
dress OF the Princess Mistchenka,
and asked that the olivewood box
be delivered to her in case any acci-
dent befell him. This note he drop
ped into the mailbox at the end Of
the main corridor as he went out. A
few minutes later he stood in an
empty passagewsy outside a door
No. 623. He had a loaded automatic
in his breast pocket, a cigarette be-
tween his fingers, and, on his
agreeable features. a smile Of an
ticipation-a smile in which amuse-
ment, incredulity, reckless humor,
and a spice of malice were blended
the smile born of the drop OF
Irish sparkling like champagne in
his singing veins.
And he turned the knob Of door
No. 623 and went in.
She was reading. curled up on her
sofa under the electric bulb. a Gig
arctic in one hand, a box OF bonn
bons beside her.
She looked up leisurely as he en-
tered, gave him a friendly nod, and.
when ne held out his hand, placed
her own in it, With delighted
gravity he bent and saluted her
finger tips with lips that twitched
to control a smile.
"Will you be seated. please?' she
said gently.
The softness OF her agreeable
voice struck him as he looked
around for a seat, then directly at
her; and saw that she meant him
to find a seat on the lounge beside
her
Now. indeed you are Schehera-
zade Of the Thousand and One
Nights" he said gaily. with your
cigarette and your bonbons, and
cross-legged on your divans-"
"Did Scheherazade smoke ciga-
rettes, Mr.. Neeland?"
NO" he admitted; that is an
anachronism, 1 suppose. Tell me,
how are you, dear LADY,"
Thank you, quite we'll"
"And-busy?" His lips struggled
again to maintain their gravity.
"Yes, / have been busy"
Cooking something up?-I mean
soup, of course" he added.
Schehernznde Abashed.
She forced a smile. but Redeemed
as though it were difficult for her