Part 21 (1/2)

Blacker grew the fierce eyes--and blacker. I gave myself up for lost; I awaited death--death by some awful, unique means--with what courage I could muster.

From the court below came the sound of voices, the voices of pa.s.sers-by who so little suspected what was happening near to them that had someone told them they certainly had refused to credit it.

The noise of busy Fleet Street came drumming under the archway, too.

Then, above all, another sound became audible. To this day I find myself unable to define it; but it resembled the note of a silver bell.

Clearly it was a signal; for, hearing it, Ha.s.san dropped the tube and glanced toward the open window.

In that instant I sprang upon him!

That I had to deal with a fanatic, a dangerous madman, I knew; that it was his life or mine, I was fully convinced. I struck out then and caught him fairly over the heart. He reeled back, and I made a wild clutch for the d.a.m.nable tube, horrid, unreasoning fear of which thus far had held me inert.

I heard the girl scream affrightedly, and I knew, and felt my heart chill to know, that the tube had been wrenched from my hand! Ha.s.san of Aleppo, old man that he appeared, had the strength of a tiger. He recovered himself and hurled me from him so that I came to the floor cras.h.i.+ngly half under my writing-table!

Something he cried back at me, furiously--and like an enraged animal, his teeth gleaming out from his beard, he darted from the room. The front door banged loudly.

Shaken and quivering, I got upon my feet. On the threshold, in a state of pitiable hesitancy, stood the pale, beautiful accomplice of Earl Dexter. One quick glance she flashed at me, then turned and ran!

Again the door slammed. I ran to the window, looking out into the court. The girl came hurrying down the steps, and with never a backward glance ran on and was lost to view in one of the pa.s.sages opening riverward.

Out under the arch, statelily pa.s.sed a tall figure--and Inspector Bristol was entering! I saw the detective glance aside as the two all but met. He stood still, and looked back!

”Bristol!” I cried, and waved my arms frantically.

”Stop him! Stop him! It's Ha.s.san of Aleppo!”

Bristol was not the only one to hear my wild cry--not the only one to dash back under the arch and out into Fleet Street.

But Ha.s.san of Aleppo was gone!

CHAPTER XXII

THE LIGHT OF EL-MEDINEH

Bristol and I walked slowly in the direction of the entrance of the British Antiquarian Museum. It was the day following upon the sensational scene in my chambers.

”There's very little doubt,” said Bristol, ”that Earl Dexter has the slipper and that Ha.s.san of Aleppo knows where Dexter is in hiding. I don't know which of the two is more elusive. Ha.s.san apparently melted into thin air yesterday; and although The Stetson Man has never within my experience employed disguises, no one has set eyes upon him since the night that he vanished from his lodgings off the Waterloo Road. It's always possible for a man to baffle the police by remaining closely within doors, but during all the time that has elapsed Dexter must have taken a little exercise occasionally, and the missing hand should have betrayed him.”

”The wonder to me is,” I replied, ”that he has escaped death at the hands of the Has.h.i.+s.h.i.+n. He is a supremely daring man, for I should think that he must be carrying the slipper of the Prophet about with him!”

”I would rather he did it than I!” commented Bristol. ”For sheer audacity commend me to The Stetson Man! His idea no doubt was to use you as intermediary in his negotiations with the Museum authorities, but that plan failing, he has written them direct, thoughtfully omitting his address, of course!”

We were, in fact, at that moment bound for the Museum to inspect this latest piece of evidence.

”The crowning example of the man's audacity and cleverness,” added my companion, ”is his having actually approached Ha.s.san of Aleppo with a similar proposition! How did he get in touch with him? All Scotland Yard has failed to find any trace of that weird character!”

”Birds of a feather--” I suggested.