Evening star., 1919-11-30


the possessor of a pair Of excellent
opera glasses2 May I suggest that
you return to Shepherds and pro.
cure them"
The platform Of the mlnaret seem.
ed very cold to the touch of my
stockinged feet. for had left my
shoes at the entrance of the mosque
below, In accordance with custom:
and now. from the wooden balcony, I
overlooked the neighborlng roofs Of
Cairo, and Abu Tabah, beside me,
pointed to where a vague patch of
light broke the darkness beneath us
to the left.
'The window of NJ. Felix Breton's
studio" he said.
Raising the glasses to his eyes, he
gazed in that direction. while I also
peered thither and succeeded in maxi
ing out the well of the courtyard and
the roofs of the buildings to the right
and left of 1t. 1t was not evident to
me for what Abu Tabab was looking.
and when presently he lowered the
glasses and turned to me 1 expressed
my doubts in words.
1T Is surely evident" I said, speak.
Ing, as I now almost invariably did
to the imam, in English. of which he
had perfect mastery, that we have
little chance of discovering anything
from here, since nothing was visible
from the studio window. Further.
more. whe save Yasmina could have
spoken in the manner which I have
related and in broken French?
IAN eavesdropper." he replied,
might have proflted by the lessons
which Yasmina received from NJ,
Breton: and all vocal characteristics
are lost in a whisper. In the second
place. Yasmina is not dead"
What" cried.
"She has been kept a prisoner dur
ing the past week in q house belong
Ing to one of the Black Darwishes,"
continued Abu Tabah; but my agents
succeeded in tracing her this morning.
BY my orders, however, she has not
been allowed to return to her home"
And what was the object of those
orders?"
That I might learn for what pur-
pose she had been made to disappear"
replied Abu Tabah, land 1 have learn
ed it tonight"
Then, you think that the whispers
Ing mummy"
He suddenly clutched my arm.
Quick! raise your glasses! he said,
softly "On the roof of the house to
the left of the light. There is the
whispering mummy"
Strung up to high pitch of excite
nent, l gazed through the glasses in
the direction indicated by my COM
panion. without difficulty I discerned
him---a man wearing a black turban--
who crept like some ungainly cat
along the fiat roof, carrying in his
hand what looked like one OF those
sugar canes which pass for q delicacy
among the natives. but which to Eu-
ropean eyes appear more suitable
for curtain-poles than sweetmeats.
Springing perilously across a yawn.
Ing gulf, the wearer Of the black tur-
ban gained the roof OF the studio.
crept along for some little distance
further, and then. lying prone, began
slowly to lower the bamboo rod in
the direction of the lighted window
1T Is n speaking-tubew I cried. II
cannot see the end Of 1t, but no doubt
1t Is curved so as to protrude through
the side Of the lattice window. Do
you look, Abu Tabah; propose to
act"
Thrusting the glasses into the
imam's hand, took my Colt repeater
from my pocket. and, having peered
for some seconds steadily in the direc.
tion Of the dimly visible Darwfsh, I
opened fire! I had fired five shots in
the heat Of my anger at that sinister.
crouching figure, ere Abu Tabah
seized my wrist.
stop" he cried; do you forget
where you stand?'
Truly I had forgotten in my indig.
nation, or / should not have outraged
his feelings by firing from the min.
aret Of q mosque. But sufficient Of my
wrath remained to occasion me q
thrill Of satisfaction. when. peering
through the dusk. saw the Darwish
throw UP his arms and disappear s.em
view.