CHAPTER IV

  THE CALIPH'S DAUGHTER

  It was half-past ten on a wet September night when SuperintendentNarkom's limousine pulled up in front of Cleek's house in ClargesStreet, and the superintendent himself, disguised, as he always was whenpaying visits to his famous ally, stepped out and with infinite careassisted a companion to alight.

  The figure of this second person, however, was so hidden by the folds ofa long, thickly wadded cloak, the hem of which reached to within an inchor so of the pavement, that it would have been impossible for apasser-by to have decided whether it was that of a man or a woman; butthe manner in which it bent, added to a shuffling uncertainty of gait--asort of "feeling the way" movement of the feet--as Mr. Narkom guided itacross the pavement to the door, suggested either great age or a stateof total blindness: an affliction, by the way, of such recent date thatthe sufferer had not yet acquired that air of confidence and thatfreedom of step which is Time's kind gift to the sightless.

  In a very few moments, however, all doubt as to the sex and thecondition of the muffled figure was set at rest, for, upon thesuperintendent and his companion being admitted by Dollops to thedimly-lit hall of the house, the bent figure straightened, and it waseasy to see that it was not only that of a man but of a man heavilyblindfolded.

  "You may take off the bandage now, Major," said Narkom, as the doorclosed behind them and Dollops busied himself with readjusting thefastenings. "We shall find your master in his sitting-room, I suppose,my embryo Vidocq?"

  "Speaking to me, sir? Lor! You ain't never went and forgot my name afterall these months, have you, Mr. Narkom?" said Dollops, not understandingthe allusion. "Yes, sir; you'll find him there, sir, and frisky as aspring lamb without the peas, bless his heart! Been to the weddin' ofLady Chepstow and that there Captain Hawksley this afternoon, sir, andmust have enjoyed hisself, the way he's been a-whistling and a-singingever since he come home. What a feed they must of had with all theirmoney! It seems almost a crime to 'a' missed it. Sent wot was left tothe 'orspittles, I hear, and me as flat as an autumn leaf after sixmonths' pressin' in the family Bible."

  "What! Hungry still, Dollops?"

  "Hungry, sir? Lor, Mr. Narkom, a flute's a fool to me for hollowness.I'm that empty my blessed ribs is a-shaking hands with each other; andten minutes ago, when I et a pint of winkles, the noise as they madea-gettin' by 'em, sir, you'd a thought it was somebody a-tumblingdownstairs. But they say as every dog has his day, so I'm alwaysa-livin' in hopes, sir."

  "Hopes? Hopes of what?"

  "That _some_ time you'll come for the guv'ner to investigate a crimewot's been committed in a cookshop, sir--and _then_, wot ho! But," headded lugubriously, "they never comes to no violent end, themfood-selling jossers; they always dies in their beds like a parcel ofheathen!"

  Narkom made no reply. By this time the man he had addressed as "major"had removed the bandage from his eyes; and, beckoning him to follow, thesuperintendent led the way upstairs, leaving Dollops to mourn alone.

  Cleek, who was sitting by a carefully shaded lamp jotting somethingdown in his diary, closed the book and rose as the two men entered. Lateas the hour was he had not yet changed the garments he had worn at LadyChepstow's wedding in the afternoon.

  "You are promptness itself, Mr. Narkom," he said gaily, as he glanced athis watch. "I am afraid that I myself overlooked the passage of time inattending to--well, other things. You will, perhaps, be interested tolearn, Mr. Narkom, that Miss Lorne has decided to remain in England."

  "Indeed, my dear fellow, I never heard that she contemplated going outof it again. Did she?"

  "Oh, yes; I thought you knew. Captain Hawksley has been ordered to Indiawith his regiment. Of course, that means that, after their honeymoon,his wife and little Lord Chepstow will accompany him. They wished MissLorne to continue as the boy's governess and to go with them. At thelast moment, however, she decided to remain in England and to seek a newpost here. But, pardon me, we are neglecting your companion, Mr. Narkom.The aftermath of previous cases cannot, I fear, be of interest to him."

  "Yes, my dear chap," agreed Narkom. "Let me introduce MajorBurnham-Seaforth, my dear Cleek. Major, you are at last in the presenceof the one man you desire to put upon the case; if there is anything init, be sure that he will get it out."

  For just half a moment after he spoke the major's name, Narkom fanciedthat it seemed to have a disturbing influence upon Cleek; that there wasa shadow, just a shadow of agitation suggested. But before he could puthis finger upon the particular point which made this suspicioncolourable, it was gone and had left no trace behind.

  The major--who, by the way, was a decidedly military-looking man longpast middle life--had been studying Cleek's face with a curious sort ofintentness ever since he entered the room. Now he put forth his hand inacknowledgment of the introduction.

  "I am delighted to have the opportunity of meeting you, Mr. Cleek," hesaid. "At first I thought Mr. Narkom's insistence upon my making thejourney here blindfolded singularly melodramatic and absurd. I can nowrealize, since you are so little similar to one's preconceived idea of apolice detective, that you may well wish to keep everything connectedwith your residence and your official capacity an inviolable secret. Onedoes not have to be told that you are a man of birth and breeding, Mr.Cleek. Pardon me if I ask an impertinent question. Have we by any chancemet before--in society or elsewhere? There is something oddly familiarin your countenance. I can't quite seem to locate it, however."

  "Then I shouldn't waste my time in endeavouring to do so, Major, if Iwere you," responded Cleek with the utmost _sang-froid_. "It is bound toend in nothing. Points of resemblance between persons who are in no wayconnected are of common occurrence. I have no position in society, noposition of any sort but _this_. I am simply Cleek, the detective. Ihave a good memory, however, and if I had ever met you before I shouldnot have forgotten it."

  And with this non-committal response he dismissed the subject airily,waved the major to a seat, and the business of the interview began.

  "My dear Cleek," Narkom began, opening fire without further parley, "themajor has come to ask your aid in a case of singular and mystifyinginterest. You may or may not have heard of a music-hall artiste--a sortof conjuror and impersonator--called 'Zyco the Magician,' who wasassisted in his illusions by a veiled but reputedly beautiful Turkishlady who was billed on the programmes and posters as 'Zuilika, theCaliph's Daughter.'"

  "I remember the pair very well indeed. They toured the music-halls foryears, and I saw their performance frequently. They were the first, Ibelieve, to produce that afterward universal trick known as 'TheVanishing Lady.' As I have not heard anything of them nor seen theirnames billed for the past couple of years, I fancy they have eitherretired from the profession or gone to some other part of the world. Theman was not only a very clever magician, but a master of mimicry. Ialways believed, however, that in spite of his name he was of Englishbirth. The woman's face I never saw, of course, as she was always veiledto the eyes after the manner of Turkish ladies. But although a good manypersons suspected that her birthplace was no nearer Bagdad than Peckham,I somehow felt that she was, after all, a genuine, native-born Turk."

  "You are quite right in both suspicions, Mr. Cleek," put in the majoragitatedly. "The man _was_ an Englishman; the lady _is_ a Turk."

  "May I ask, Major, why you speak of the lady in the present tense and ofthe man in the past? Is he dead?"

  "I hope so," responded the major fervently. "God knows I do, Mr. Cleek.My very hope in life depends upon that."

  "May I ask why?"

  "I am desirous of marrying his widow!"

  "My dear Major, you cannot possibly be serious! A woman of that class?"

  "Pardon me, sir, but you have, for all your cleverness, fallen a victimto the prevailing error. The lady is in every way my social equal, inher own country my superior. She _is_ a caliph's daughter. The titlewhich the playgoing public imagined was of the usual bombastic,just-on-the-programme sort, is hers b
y right. Her late father, Caliph AlHamid Sulaiman, was one of the richest and most powerful Mohammedans inexistence. He died five months ago, leaving an immense fortune to beconveyed to England to his exiled but forgiven child."

  "Ah, I see. Then, naturally, of course----"

  "The suggestion is unworthy of you, Mr. Narkom, and anything butcomplimentary to me. The inheritance of this money has had nothingwhatever to do with my feeling for the lady. That began two years ago,when, by accident, I was permitted to look upon her face for the first,last, and only time. I should still wish to marry her if she were anabsolute pauper. I know what you are saying to yourself, sir: 'There isno fool like an old fool.' Well, perhaps there isn't. But"--he turned toCleek--"I may as well begin at the beginning and confess that even if Idid not desire to marry the lady I should still have a deep interest inher husband's death, Mr. Cleek. He is--or was, if dead--the only son ofmy cousin, the Earl of Wynraven, who is now over ninety years of age. Iam in the direct line, and if this Lord Norman Ulchester, whom you andthe public know only as 'Zyco the Magician,' were in his grave therewould only be that one feeble old man between me and the title."

  "Ah, I see!" said Cleek in reply; then, seating himself at the table, hearranged the shade of the lamp so that the light fell full upon themajor's face while leaving his own in the shadow. "Then your interest inthe affair, Major, may be said to be a double one."

  "More, sir, a triple one. I have a rival in the shape of my own son. He,too, wishes to marry Zuilika, is madly enamoured of her; in fact, sowildly that I have always hesitated to confess my own desires to him forfear of the consequences. He is almost a madman in his outbursts oftemper; and where Zuilika is concerned---- Perhaps you will understand,Mr. Cleek, when I tell you that once when he thought her husband hadill-used her he came within an ace of killing the man. There was badblood between them always, even as boys, and, as men, it was bittererthan ever because of _her_."

  "Suppose you begin at the beginning and tell me the whole story, Major,"suggested Cleek, studying the man's face narrowly. "How did the Earl ofWynraven's son come to meet this singularly fascinating lady, andwhere?"

  "In Turkey or Arabia, I forget which. He was doing his theatricalnonsense in the East with some barn-storming show or other, having beenobliged to get out of England to escape arrest for some shadytransaction a year before. He was always a bad egg; always a disgrace tohis name and connections. That's why his father turned him off and neverwould have any more to do with him. As a boy he was rather clever atconjuring tricks and impersonations of all sorts; he could mimicanything or anybody he ever saw, from the German Emperor down to aGaiety chorus girl, and do it to absolute perfection. When his fatherkicked him out he turned these natural gifts to account, and, havingfallen in with some professional dancing woman, joined her for a timeand went on the stage with her.

  "It was after he had parted from this dancer and was knocking aboutLondon and leading a disgraceful life generally that he did the thingwhich caused him to hurry off to the East and throw in his lot with thetravelling company I have alluded to. He was always a handsome fellowand had a way with him that was wonderfully taking with women, so Isuppose that that accounts as much as anything for Zuilika's infatuationand her doing the mad thing she did. I don't know when nor where nor howthey first met; but the foolish girl simply went off her head over him,and he appears to have been as completely infatuated by her. Of course,in that land, the idea of a woman of her sect, of her standing, havinganything to do with a Frank was looked upon as something appalling,something akin to sacrilege; and when they found that her father had gotwind of it and that the fellow's life would not be safe if he remainedwithin reach another day, they flew to the coast together, shipped forEngland, and were married immediately after their arrival."

  "A highly satisfactory termination for the lady," commented Cleek. "Onecould hardly have expected that from a man so hopelessly unprincipled asyou represent him to have always been. But there's a bit of good in eventhe devil, we are told."

  "Oh, be sure that he didn't marry her from any principle of honour, mydear sir," replied the major. "If it were merely a question of that,he'd have cut loose from her as soon as the vessel touched port.Consideration of self ruled him in that as in all other things. He knewthat the girl's father fairly idolized her; knew that, in time, hiswrath would give way to his love, and, sooner or later the old man--whohad been mad at the idea of any marriage--would be moved to settle alarge sum upon her so that she might never be in want. But let me get onwith my story. Having nothing when he returned to England, and beingobliged to cover up his identity by assuming another name, Ulchester,after vainly appealing to his father for help on the plea that he wasnow honourably married and settled down, turned again to the stage, and,repugnant though such a thing was to the delicately nurtured woman hehad married, compelled Zuilika to become his assistant and to go on theboards with him. That is how the afterward well-known music-hall 'team'of 'Zyco and the Caliph's Daughter' came into existence.

  "The novelty of their 'turn' caught on like wildfire, and they were asuccess from the first, not a little of that success being due to themystery surrounding the identity and appearance of Zuilika; for, trueto the traditions of her native land, she never appeared, either inpublic or in private, without being closely veiled. Only her 'lord' wasever permitted to look upon her uncovered face; all that the world atlarge might ever hope to behold of it was the low, broad forehead andthe two brilliant eyes that appeared above the close-drawn line of heryashmak. Of course she shrank from the life into which she was forced,but it had its reward, for it kept her in close contact with herhusband, whom she almost worshipped. So, for a time, she wasproportionately happy; although, as the years passed by and her fathershowed no inclination to bestow the coveted 'rich allowance' upon hisdaughter, Ulchester's ardour began to cool. He no longer treated herwith the same affectionate deference; he neglected her, in fact, and, inthe end, even began to ill-use her.

  "About two years ago matters assumed a worse aspect. He again met AnitaRosario, the Spanish dancer, under whose guidance he had first turned tothe halls for a livelihood, and once more took up with her. He seemed tohave lost all thought or care for the feelings of his wife, for, aftertorturing her with jealousy over his attentions to the dancer, he took ahouse adjoining my own--on the borders of the most unfrequented part ofthe common at Wimbledon--established himself and Zuilika there, andbrought the woman Anita home to live with them. From that period matterswent from bad to worse. Evidently having tired of the stage, bothUlchester and Anita abandoned it, and turned the house into a sort ofclub where gambling was carried on to a disgraceful extent. Brokenhearted over the treatment she was receiving, Zuilika appealed to me andto my son to help her in her distress, to devise some plan to break thespell of Ulchester's madness and to get that woman out of the house. Itwas then that I first beheld her face. In her excitement she managed,somehow, to snap or loosen the fastening which held her yashmak. Itfell, and let my son realize, as I realized, how wondrously beautiful itis possible for the human face to be!"

  "Steady, Major, steady! I can quite understand your feelings, canrealize better than most men!" said Cleek with a sort of sigh. "Youlooked into heaven, and--well, what then? Let's have the rest of thestory."

  "I think my son must have put it into her head to give Ulchester a tasteof his own medicine, to attempt to excite his jealousy by pretending tofind interests elsewhere. At any rate, she began to show him a greatdeal of attention, or, at least, so he says, although I never saw it.All I know is that she--she--well, sir, she deliberately led _me_ onuntil I was half insane over her, and--that's all!"

  "What do you mean by 'that's all'? The matter couldn't possibly haveended there, or else why this appeal to me?"

  "It ended for me, so far as her affectionate treatment of me wasconcerned; for in the midst of it the unexpected happened. Her fatherdied, forgiving her, as Ulchester had hoped, but doing more than hiswildest dreams could have given him cause to i
magine possible. In aword, sir, the caliph not only bestowed his entire earthly possessionsupon her, but had them conveyed to England by trusted allies and placedin her hands. There were coffers of gold pieces, jewels of fabulousvalue, sufficient, when converted into English money, as they werewithin the week, and deposited to her credit in the Bank of England, tomake her the sole possessor of nearly three million pounds."

  "Phew!" whistled Cleek. "When these Orientals do it they certainly do itproperly. That's what you might call 'giving with both hands,' Major,eh?"

  "The gift did not end with that, sir," the major replied with a gestureof repulsion. "There was a gruesome, ghastly, appalling addition in theshape of two mummy cases--one empty, the other filled. A parchmentaccompanying these stated that the caliph could not sleep elsewhere butin the land of his fathers, nor sleep _there_ until his beloved childrested beside him. They had been parted in life, but they should not beparted in death. An Egyptian had, therefore, been summoned to hisbedside, had been given orders to embalm him after death, to send themummy to Zuilika, and with it a case in which, when her own death shouldoccur, _her_ body should be deposited; and followers of the prophet hadtaken oath to see that both were carried to their native land andentombed side by side. Until death came to relieve her of the ghastlyduty, Zuilika was charged to be the guardian of the mummy and daily tomake the orisons of the faithful before it, keeping it always with itsface toward the East."

  "By George! it sounds like a page from the 'Arabian Nights,'" exclaimedCleek. "Well, what next? Did Ulchester take kindly to this housing ofthe mummy of his father-in-law and the eventual coffin of his wife? Orwas he willing to stand for anything so long as he got possession of thehuge fortune the old man left?"

  "He never did get it, Mr. Cleek. He never touched so much as onefarthing of it. Zuilika took nobody into her confidence until everythinghad been converted into English gold and deposited in the bank to hercredit. Then she went straight to him and to Anita, showed them proof ofthe deposit, reviled them for their treatment of her, and swore that notone farthing's benefit should accrue to Ulchester until Anita was turnedout of the house in the presence of their guests and the husband tookoath on his knees to join the wife in those daily prayers before thecaliph's mummy. Furthermore, Ulchester was to embrace the faith of theMohammedans that he might return with her at once to the land and thegods she had offended by marriage with a Frankish infidel."

  "Which, of course, he declined to do?"

  "Yes. He declined utterly. But it was a case of the crushed worm, withZuilika. Now was _her_ turn; and she would not abate one jot or tittle.There was a stormy scene, of course. It ended by Ulchester and the womanAnita leaving the house together. From that hour Zuilika never againheard his living voice, never again saw his living face! He seems tohave gone wild with wrath over what he had lost and to have plungedheadlong into the maddest sort of dissipation. It is known, positivelyknown, and can be sworn to by reputable witnesses, that for the nextthree days he did not draw one sober breath. On the fourth, a note fromhim--a note which he was _seen_ to write in a public house--was carriedto Zuilika. In that note he cursed her with every conceivable term; toldher that when she got it he would be at the bottom of the river, driventhere by her conduct, and that if it was possible for the dead to comeback and haunt people he'd do it. Two hours after he wrote that note hewas seen getting out of the train at Tilbury and going toward the docks;but from that moment to this every trace of him is lost."

  "Ah, I see!" said Cleek reflectively. "And you want to find out if hereally carried out that threat and did put an end to himself, I suppose?That's why you have come to me, eh? Frankly, I don't believe that hedid, Major. That sort of a man never commits suicide upon so slim apretext as that. If he commits it at all, it's because he is at the endof his tether, and our friend 'Zyco' seems to have been a long way fromthe end of his. How does the lady take it? Seriously?"

  "Oh, very, sir, very. Of course, to a woman of her temperament and withher Oriental ideas regarding the supernatural, etcetera, that threat tohaunt her was the worst he could have done to her. At first she wasabsolutely beside herself with grief and horror; swore that she hadkilled him by her cruelty; that there was nothing left her but to die,and all that sort of thing; and for three days she was little betterthan a mad woman. At the end of that time, after the fashion of herpeople, she retired to her own room, covered herself with sackcloth andashes, and remained hidden from all eyes for the space of a fortnight,weeping and wailing constantly and touching nothing but bread andwater."

  "Poor wretch! She suffers like that, then, over a rascally fellow notworth a single tear. It's marvellous, Major, what women do see in menthat they can go on loving them. Has she come out of her retirementyet?"

  "Yes, Mr. Cleek. She came out of it five days ago, to all appearances athoroughly heartbroken woman. Of course, as she was all alone in theworld, my son and I considered it our duty, during the time of herwildness and despair, to see that a thoroughly respectable female wascalled in to take charge of the house and to show respect for theproprieties, and for us to take up our abode there in order to preventher from doing herself an injury. We are still domiciled there, but itwill surprise you to learn that a most undesirable person is there also.In short, sir, that the woman Anita Rosario, the cause of all thetrouble, is again an inmate of the house; and, what is more remarkablestill, this time by Zuilika's own request."

  "What's that? My dear Major, you amaze me! What can possibly have causedthe good lady to do a thing like that?"

  "She hopes, she says, to appease the dead and to avert the threatened'haunting.' At all events, she sent for Anita some days ago. Indeed, Ibelieve it is her intention to take the Spaniard with her when shereturns to the East."

  "She intends doing that, then? She is so satisfied of her husband'sdeath that she deems no further question necessary? Intends to take nofurther step toward proving it?"

  "It has been proved to her satisfaction. His body was recovered the daybefore yesterday."

  "Oho! then he is dead, eh? Why didn't you say so in the beginning? Whendid you learn of it?"

  "This very evening. That is what sent me to Superintendent Narkom withthis request to be led to you. I learned from Zuilika that a bodyanswering the description of his had been fished from the water atTilbury and carried to the mortuary. It was horribly disfigured bycontact with the piers and passing vessels, but she and Anita--and--andmy son----"

  "Your son, Major? Your son?"

  "Yes!" replied the major in a sort of half whisper. "They--they took himwith them when they went, unknown to me. He has become rather friendlywith the Spanish woman of late. All three saw the body; all threeidentified it as being Ulchester's beyond a doubt."

  "And you? Surely when you see it you will be able to satisfy anymisgivings you may have?"

  "I shall never see it, Mr. Cleek. It was claimed when identified andburied within twelve hours," said the major, glancing up sharply asCleek, receiving this piece of information, blew out a soft, lowwhistle. "I was not told anything about it until this evening, and whatI have done--in coming to you, I mean--I have done with nobody'sknowledge. I--I am so horribly in the dark--I have such fearful thoughtsand--and I want to be sure. I must be sure or I shall go out of my mind.That's the 'case,' Mr. Cleek. Tell me what you think of it."

  "I can do that in a very few words, Major," he replied. "It is either agigantic swindle or it is a clear case of murder. If a swindle, thenUlchester himself is at the bottom of it and it will end in murder justthe same. Frankly, the swindle theory strikes me as being the moreprobable; in other words, that the whole thing is a put-up game betweenUlchester and the woman Anita; that they played upon Zuilika's fear ofthe supernatural for a purpose; that a body was procured and sunk inthat particular spot for the furtherance of that purpose; and if thewidow attempts to put into execution this plan--no doubt instilled intoher mind by Anita--of returning with her wealth to her native land, shewill simply be led into some safe place and then eff
ectually put out ofthe way forever. That is what I think of the case if it is to beregarded in the light of a swindle; but if Ulchester is really dead,murder, not suicide, is at the back of his taking off, and---- Oh, well,we won't say anything more about it just yet awhile. I shall want tolook over the ground before I jump to any conclusions. You are stillstopping in the house, you and your son, I think you remarked? If youcould contrive to put up an old army friend's son there for a night,Major, give me the address. I'll drop in on you there to-morrow and havea little look round."

  II

  When, next morning, Major Burnham-Seaforth announced the dilemma inwhich, through his own house being temporarily closed, he found himselfowing to the proposed visit of Lieutenant Rupert St. Aubyn, son of anold army friend, Zuilika was the first to suggest the very thing he wasfishing for.

  "Ah, let him come here, dear friend," she said in that sad, sweetlymodulated voice which so often wrung his susceptible old heart. "Thereis plenty of room, plenty, alas! now, and any friend of yours can onlybe a friend of mine. He will not annoy. Let him come here."

  "Yes, let him," supplemented young Burnham-Seaforth, speaking with hiseyes on Senorita Rosario, who seemed nervous and ill-pleased by the newsof the expected arrival. "He won't have to be entertained by us if heonly comes to see the pater; and we can easily crowd him aside if hetries to thrust himself upon us. A fellow with a name like 'Rupert St.Aubyn' is bound to be a silly ass." And when, in the late afternoon,"Lieutenant Rupert St. Aubyn," in the person of Cleek, arrived with hissnub-nosed man-servant, a kitbag, several rugs, and a bundle of golfsticks, young Burnham-Seaforth saw no reason to alter that assertion.For, a "silly ass"--albeit an unusually handsome one with his fair,curling hair and his big blonde moustache--he certainly was: a lisping,"ha-ha-ing" "don't-cher-know-ing" silly ass, whom the presence of ladiesseemed to cover with confusion and drive into a very panic of shyembarrassment.

  "_Dios!_ but he is handsome, this big, fair lieutenant!" whispered theSpaniard to young Burnham-Seaforth. "A great, handsome fool--all beautyand no brains, like a doll of wax!" Then she bent over and murmuredsmilingly to Zuilika: "I shall make a bigger nincompoop of this big,fair sap-head than Heaven already has done before he leaves here, justfor the sake of seeing him stammer and blush!"

  Only the sad expression of Zuilika's eyes told that she so much asheard, as she rose to greet the visitor. Garbed from head to foot in thedeep, violet-coloured stuff which is the mourning of Turkish women, herlittle pointed slippers showing beneath the hem of her frock, and onlyher dark, mournful eyes visible between the top of the shrouding yashmakand the edge of her sequined snood, she made a pathetic picture as shestood there waiting to greet the unknown visitor.

  "Sir, you are welcome," she said in a voice whose modulations were notlost upon Cleek's ears as he put forth his hand and received the tips ofher little, henna-stained fingers upon his palm. "Peace be with you, whoare of his people--he that I loved and mourn!" Then, as if overcome withgrief at the recollection of her widowhood, she plucked away her hand,covered her eyes, and moved staggeringly out of the room. And Cleek sawno more of her that day; but he knew when she performed her orisonsbefore the mummy case--as she did each morning and evening--by thestrong, pungent odour of incense drifting through the house and fillingit with a sickly scent.

  Her absence seemed to make but little impression upon him, however, for,following up a well-defined plan of action, he devoted himself wholly tothe Spanish woman, and both amazed her and gratified her vanity byallowing her to learn that a man may be the silliest ass imaginable andyet quite understand how to flirt and to make love to a woman. And so itfell out that instead of "Lieutenant Rupert St. Aubyn" being elbowed outby young Burnham-Seaforth, it was "Lieutenant St. Aubyn" who elbowed_him_ out. Without being in the least aware of it, the flattered Anita,like an adroitly hooked trout, was being "played" in and out and roundabout the eddies and the deeps until the angler had her quite ready forthe final dip of the net at the landing point.

  All this was to accomplish exactly what it _did_ accomplish, namely, theill temper, the wrath, the angry resentment of young Burnham-Seaforth.And when the evening had passed and bedtime arrived, Cleek took hiscandle and retired in the direction of the rooms set apart for him, withthe certainty of knowing that he had done that which would this verynight prove beyond all question the guilt or innocence of one person atleast who was enmeshed in this mysterious tangle. He was not surprised,therefore, at what followed his next step.

  Reaching the upper landing he blew out the light of his candle, slammedthe door to his own room, noisily turned the key, and shot the bolt ofanother, then tiptoed his way back to the staircase and looked down thewell-hole into the lower hall.

  Zuilika had retired to her room, the major had retired to his, and nowAnita was taking up her candle to retire to hers. She had barely touchedit, however, when there came a sound of swift footsteps and youngBurnham-Seaforth lurched out of the drawing-room door and joined her. Hewas in a state of great excitement and was breathing hard.

  "Anita, Miss Rosario!" he began, plucking her by the sleeve anduplifting a pale, boyish face--he was not yet twenty-two--to hers with alook of abject misery. "I want to speak to you. I simply must speak toyou. I've been waiting for the chance, and now that it's come--Lookhere! You're not going back on me, are you?"

  "Going back on you?" repeated Anita, showing her pretty white teeth inan amused smile. "What shall you mean by that 'going back on you', eh?You are a stupid little donkey, to be sure. But then I do not care toget on the back of one, so why?"

  "Oh, you know very well what I mean," he rapped out angrily. "It is notfair the way you have been treating me ever since that yellow-headedbounder came. I've had a night of misery, Zuilika never showing herself;you doing nothing, absolutely nothing, although you promised--you _know_you did!--and I heard you, I absolutely heard you persuade that St.Aubyn fool to stop at least another night."

  "Yes, of course you did. But what of it? He is good company. He talkswell, he sings well, he is very handsome and--well, what difference canit make to you? You are not interested in _me_, _amigo_."

  "No, no; of course I'm not. You are nothing to me at all--you--oh, I begyour pardon; I didn't quite mean that. I--I mean you are nothing to mein that way. But you--you're not keeping to your word. You promised, youknow, that you'd use your influence with Zuilika; that you'd get her tobe more kind to me--to see me alone and--and all that sort of thing. Andyou've not made a single attempt. You've just sat round and flirted withthat tow-headed brute and done nothing at all to help me on; and--andit's jolly unkind of you, that's what!"

  Cleek heard Anita's soft rippling laughter; but he waited to hear nomore. Moving swiftly away from the well-hole of the staircase he passedon tiptoe down the hall to the major's rooms, and opening the door, wentin. The old soldier was standing, with arms folded, at the windowlooking silently out into the darkness of the night. He turned at thesound of the door's opening and moved toward Cleek with a white,agonized face and a pair of shaking, outstretched hands.

  "Well?" he said with a sort of gasp.

  "My dear Major," said Cleek quietly. "The wisest of men are sometimesmistaken. That is my excuse for my own shortsightedness. I said in thebeginning that this was either a case of swindling or a case of murder,did I not? Well, I now amend my verdict. It is a case of swindling _and_murder; and your son has had nothing to do with either!"

  "Oh, thank God! thank God!" the old man said; then sat down suddenly anddropped his face between his hands and was still for a long time. Whenhe looked up again his eyes were red, but his lips were smiling.

  "If you only knew what a relief it is," he said. "If you only knew howmuch I have suffered, Mr. Cleek. His friendship with that Spanish woman;his going with her to identify the body--even assisting in its hurriedburial! These things all seemed so frightfully black, so utterly withoutany explanation other than personal guilt."

  "Yet they all are easily explained, Major. His friendship for th
eSpanish woman is merely due to a promise to intercede for him withZuilika. She is his one aim and object, poor little donkey! As for hisidentification of the body--well, if the widow herself could find pointsof undisputed resemblance, why not he? A nervous, excitable, impetuousboy like that and anxious, too, that the lady of his heart should befreed from the one thing, the one man, whose existence made hereverlastingly unattainable, in the hands of a clever woman like AnitaRosario such a chap could be made to identify anything and to believe itas religiously as he believes. Now, go to bed and rest easy, Major. I'mgoing to call up Dollops and do a little night prowling. If it turns outas I hope, this little riddle will be solved to-morrow."

  "But how, Mr. Cleek? It seems to me that it is as dark as ever. You putmy poor old head in a whirl. You say there is swindling; you hint onemoment that the body was not that of Ulchester, and in the next thatmurder has been done. Do, pray, tell me what it all means, what you makeof this amazing case?"

  "I'll do that to-morrow, Major; not to-night. The answer to theriddle--the answer that's in my mind, I mean--is at once so simple andyet so appallingly awful that I'll hazard no guess until I'm sure. Lookhere"--he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a gold piece--"doyou know what that is, Major?"

  "It looks like a spade guinea, Mr. Cleek."

  "Right; it is a spade guinea, a pocket piece I've carried for years.You've heard, no doubt, of vital things turning upon the tossing of acoin. Well, if you see me toss this coin to-morrow, something of thatsort will occur. It will be tossed up in the midst of a riddle, Major;when it comes down it will be a riddle no longer."

  Then he opened the door, closed it after him, and, before the Majorcould utter a word, was gone.

  III

  The promise was so vague, so mystifying, indeed, so seemingly absurd,that the Major did not allow himself to dwell upon it. As a matter offact, it passed completely out of his mind; nor did it again findlodgment there until it was forced back upon his memory in a mostunusual manner.

  Whatsoever had been the result of what Cleek had called his "nightprowling," he took nobody into his confidence when he and the major andthe major's son and Senorita Rosario met at breakfast the next day(Zuilika, true to her training and the traditions of her people, neverbroke morning bread save in the seclusion of her own bedchamber, andthen on her knees with her face toward the East) nor did he allude to itat any period throughout the day.

  He seemed, indeed, purposely to avoid the major, and to devote himselfto the Spanish woman with an ardour that was positively heartless,considering that as they two sang and flirted and went in for severalsets of singles on the tennis courts, Zuilika, like a spirit of misery,kept walking, walking, walking through the halls and the rooms of thehouse, her woeful eyes fixed on the carpet, her henna-stained fingersconstantly locking and unlocking, and moans of desolation coming now andagain from behind her yashmak as her swaying body moved restlessly toand fro. For to-day was memorable. Five weeks ago this coming nightfallUlchester had flung himself out of this house in a fury of wrath, andthis time of bitter regret and ceaseless mourning had begun.

  "She will go out of her mind, poor creature, if something cannot be doneto keep her from dwelling on her misery like this," commented thehousekeeper, coming upon that restless figure pacing the darkened hall,moaning, moaning, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, doing nothing butwalk and sorrow, sorrow and walk, hour in and hour out. "It's enough totear a body's heart to hear her, poor dear. And that good-for-nothingSpanish piece racing and shrieking round the tennis court like a shetom-cat, the heartless hussy. Her and that simpering silly that'strotting round after her had ought to be put in a bag and shaken up,that they ought. It's downright scandalous to be carrying on like thatat such a time."

  And so both the major and his son thought, too, and tried their best tosolace the lonely mourner and to persuade her to sit down and rest.

  "Zuilika, you will wear yourself out, child, if you go on walking likethis," said the major solicitously. "Do rest and be at peace for alittle time at least."

  "I can never have peace in this land. I can never forget the day!" sheanswered drearily. "Oh, my beloved! Oh, my lord, it was I who sent theeto it--it was I, it was I! Give me my own country--give me the gods ofmy people; here there is only memory, and pain, and no rest, no restever!"

  She could not be persuaded to sit down and rest until Anita herself tookthe matter into her own hands and insisted that she should. That was attea-time. Anita, showing some little trace of feeling now that Cleek hadgone to wash his hands and was no longer there to occupy her thoughts,placed a deep, soft chair near the window, and would not yield until theviolet-clad figure of the mourner sank down into the depths of it andleaned back with its shrouded face drooping in silent melancholy.

  And it was while she was so sitting that Cleek came into the room anddid a most unusual, a most ungentlemanly thing, in the eyes of the majorand his son.

  Without hesitating, he walked to within a yard or two of where she wassitting, and then, in the silliest of his silly tones, blurted outsuddenly: "I say, don't you know, I've had a jolly rum experience. Youknow that blessed room at the angle just opposite the library, the onewith the locked door?"

  The drooping violet figure straightened abruptly, and the major felt forthe moment as if he could have kicked Cleek with pleasure. Of coursethey knew the room. It was there that the two mummy cases were kept,sacred from the profaning presence of any but this stricken woman. Nowonder that she bent forward, full of eagerness, full of the dreadfulfear that Frankish feet had crossed the threshold, Frankish eyes lookedwithin the sacred shrine.

  "Well, don't you know," went on Cleek, without taking the slightestnotice of anything, "just as I was going past that door I picked up amost remarkable thing. Wonder if it's yours, madam?" glancing atZuilika. "Just have a look at it, will you? Here, catch!" And not untilhe saw a piece of gold spin through the air and fall into Zuilika's lapdid the major remember that promise of last night.

  "Oh, come, I say, St. Aubyn, that's rather thick!" sang out youngBurnham-Seaforth indignantly, as Zuilika caught the coin in her lap."Blest if I know what you call manners, but to throw things at a lady isa new way of passing them in this part of the world, I can assure you."

  "Awfully sorry, old chap, no offence, I assure you," said Cleek, moreasinine than ever, as Zuilika, having picked up the piece and looked atit, disclaimed all knowledge of it, and laid it on the edge of the tablewithout any further interest in it or him. "Just to show, you know,that I--er--couldn't have meant anything disrespectful, why--er--you allknow, don't you know, how jolly much I respect Senorita Rosario, byJove! and so---- Here, senorita, you catch, too, and see if the blessedthing's yours." And, picking up the coin, tossed it into her lap just ashe had done with Zuilika.

  She, too, caught it and examined it, and laughingly shook her head.

  "No, not mine!" she said. "I have not seen him before. To the findershall be the keep. Come, sit here. Will you have the tea?"

  "Yes, thanks," said Cleek; then dropped down on the sofa beside her, andtook tea as serenely as though there were no such things in the world asmurder and swindling and puzzling police riddles to solve.

  And the major, staring at him, was as amazed as ever. He had said, lastnight, that when the coin fell the answer would be given, and yet it hadfallen, and nothing had happened, and he was laughing and flirting withSenorita Rosario as composedly and as persistently as ever. More thanthat; after he had finished his second cup of tea, and immediatelyfollowing the sound of some one just beyond the veranda rail whistlingthe lively, lilting measures of "There's a Girl Wanted There," "thesilly ass" seemed to become a thousand times sillier than ever. He setdown his cup, and, turning to Anita, said with an inane sort of giggle,"I say, you know, here's a lark. Let's have a game of 'Slap Hand,' youand I--what? Know it, don't you? You try to slap my hands, and I try toslap yours, and whichever succeeds in doing it first gets a prize. Awfulfun, don't you know. Come on--start her up."

>   And, Anita agreeing, they fell forthwith to slapping away at the backsof each other's hands with great gusto, until, all of a sudden, thewhistler outside gave one loud, shrill note, and--there was a great andmighty change.

  Those who were watching saw Anita's two hands suddenly caught, heard asharp, metallic "click," and saw them as suddenly dropped again to theaccompaniment of a shrill little scream from her ashen lips, and thenext moment Cleek had risen and jumped away from her side clear acrossto where Zuilika was; and those who were watching saw Anita jump up witha pair of steel handcuffs on her wrists, just as Dollops vaulted up overthe veranda rail and appeared at one window, whilst Petrie appeared atanother, Hammond poked his body through a third, and the opening doorgave entrance to Superintendent Narkom.

  "The police!" shrilled out Anita in a panic of fright. "_Madre de Dios_,the police!"

  The major and his son were on their feet like a shot. Zuilika, with afaint, startled cry, bounded bolt upright, like an imp shot through atrap-door; but before the little henna-stained hands could do more thansimply move, Cleek's arms went round her from behind, tight and fast asa steel clamp, there was another metallic "click," another shrill cry,and another pair of wrists were in gyves.

  "Come in, Mr. Narkom; come in, constables," said Cleek, with the utmostcomposure. "Here are your promised prisoners--nicely trussed, you see,so that they can't get at the little popguns they carry--and a worsepair of rogues never went into the hands of Jack Ketch!"

  "And Jack Ketch will get them, Cleek, if I know anything about it. Yourhazard was right, your guess correct. I've examined the caliph'smummy-case; the mummy itself has been removed--destroyed---- done awaywith utterly--and the poor creature's body is there!"

  And here the poor, dumbfounded, utterly bewildered major found voice tospeak at last.

  "Mummy-case! Body! Dear God in heaven, Mr. Cleek, what are you hintingat?" he gasped. "You--you don't mean that she--that Zuilika--killedhim?"

  "No, Major, I don't," he made reply. "I simply mean that he killed her!The body in the mummy-case is the body of Zuilika, the caliph'sdaughter! This is the creature you have been wasting your pity on--see!"

  With that he laid an intense grip on the concealing yashmak, tore itaway, and so revealed the closely shaven, ghastly hued countenance ofthe cornered criminal.

  "My God! Ulchester himself!" said the major in a voice of fright andsurprise.

  "Yes, Ulchester himself, Major. In a few more days he'd have withdrawnthe money, and got out of the country, body and all, if he hadn't beennabbed, the rascal. There'd have been no tracing the crime then, and heand the Senorita here would have been in clover for the rest of theirnatural lives. But there's always that bright little bit of BobbyBurns's to be reckoned with. You know: 'The best laid schemes of miceand men,' etcetera--that bit. But the Yard's got them, and they'll neverleave the country now. Take them, Mr. Narkom, they're yours!"

  * * * * *

  "How did I guess it?" said Cleek, replying to the major's query, as theysat late that night discussing the affair. "Well, I think the firstfaint inkling of it came when I arrived here yesterday, and smelt theoverpowering odour of the incenses. There was so much of it, and it wasused so frequently--twice a day--that it seemed to suggest an attempt tohide other odours of a less pleasant kind. When I left you last night,Dollops and I went down to the mummy chamber, and a skeleton key soonlet us in. The unpleasant odour was rather pronounced in there. But eventhat didn't give me the cue, until I happened to find in the fireplace aconsiderable heap of fine ashes, and in the midst of them small lumps ofa gummy substance, which I knew to result from the burning of myrrh. Isuspected from that and from the nature of the ashes that a mummy hadbeen burnt, and as there was only one mummy in the affair, the inferencewas obvious. I laid hands on the two cases and tilted them. One wasquite empty. The weight of the other told me that it contained somethinga little heavier than any mummy ought to be. I came to the conclusionthat there was a body in it, injected full of arsenic, no doubt, toprevent as much as possible the processes of decay, the odour of whichthe incense was concealing. I didn't attempt to open the thing; I leftthat until the arrival of the men from the Yard, for whom I sent Dollopsthis afternoon. I had a vague notion that it would not turn out to beUlchester's body, and I had also a distinct recollection of what yousaid about his being able to mimic a Gaiety chorus-girl and all thatsort of thing. The more I thought over it the more I realized what anexcellent thing to cover a bearded face a yashmak is. Still, it was allhazard. I wasn't sure--indeed, I never was sure--until tea-time, when Icaught this supposed 'Zuilika' sitting at last, and gave the spadeguinea its chance to decide it."

  "My dear Mr. Cleek, how could it have decided it? That's the thing thatamazes me the most of all. How could the tossing of that coin havesettled the sex of the wearer of those garments?"

  "My dear Major, it is an infallible test. Did you never notice that ifyou throw anything for a man to catch in his lap, he pulls his kneestogether to _make_ a lap, in order to catch it; whereas a woman--used towearing skirts, and thereby having a lap already prepared--simplybroadens that lap by the exactly opposite movement, knowing thatwhatever is thrown has no chance of slipping to the floor. That solvedit at once. And now it's bed-time, Major. Good-night."