CHAPTER XII

  Kara lay back on his down pillows with a sneer on his face and his brainvery busy. What started the train of thought he did not know, but atthat moment his mind was very far away. It carried him back a dozenyears to a dirty little peasant's cabin on the hillside outside Durazzo,to the livid face of a young Albanian chief, who had lost at Kara's whimall that life held for a man, to the hateful eyes of the girl's father,who stood with folded arms glaring down at the bound and manacled figureon the floor, to the smoke-stained rafters of this peasant cottage andthe dancing shadows on the roof, to that terrible hour of waiting whenhe sat bound to a post with a candle flickering and spluttering lowerand lower to the little heap of gunpowder that would start the trailtoward the clumsy infernal machine under his chair. He remembered theday well because it was Candlemas day, and this was the anniversary. Heremembered other things more pleasant. The beat of hoofs on the rockyroadway, the crash of the door falling in when the Turkish Gendarmeshad battered a way to his rescue. He remembered with a savage joy thespectacle of his would-be assassins twitching and struggling on thegallows at Pezara and--he heard the faint tinkle of the front door bell.

  Had T. X. returned! He slipped from the bed and went to the door, openedit slightly and listened. T. X. with a search warrant might be a sourceof panic especially if--he shrugged his shoulders. He had satisfied T.X. and allayed his suspicions. He would get Fisher out of the way thatnight and make sure.

  The voice from the hall below was loud and gruff. Who could it be! Thenhe heard Fisher's foot on the stairs and the valet entered.

  "Will you see Mr. Gathercole now!"

  "Mr. Gathercole!"

  Kara breathed a sigh of relief and his face was wreathed in smiles.

  "Why, of course. Tell him to come up. Ask him if he minds seeing me inmy room."

  "I told him you were in bed, sir, and he used shocking language," saidFisher.

  Kara laughed.

  "Send him up," he said, and then as Fisher was going out of the room hecalled him back.

  "By the way, Fisher, after Mr. Gathercole has gone, you may go out forthe night. You've got somewhere to go, I suppose, and you needn't comeback until the morning."

  "Yes, sir," said the servant.

  Such an instruction was remarkably pleasing to him. There was much thathe had to do and that night's freedom would assist him materially.

  "Perhaps" Kara hesitated, "perhaps you had better wait until eleveno'clock. Bring me up some sandwiches and a large glass of milk. Orbetter still, place them on a plate in the hall."

  "Very good, sir," said the man and withdrew.

  Down below, that grotesque figure with his shiny hat and his raggedbeard was walking up and down the tesselated hallway muttering tohimself and staring at the various objects in the hall with a certainamused antagonism.

  "Mr. Kara will see you, sir," said Fisher.

  "Oh!" said the other glaring at the unoffending Fisher, "that's verygood of him. Very good of this person to see a scholar and a gentlemanwho has been about his dirty business for three years. Grown grey in hisservice! Do you understand that, my man!"

  "Yes, sir," said Fisher.

  "Look here!"

  The man thrust out his face.

  "Do you see those grey hairs in my beard?"

  The embarrassed Fisher grinned.

  "Is it grey!" challenged the visitor, with a roar.

  "Yes, sir," said the valet hastily.

  "Is it real grey?" insisted the visitor. "Pull one out and see!"

  The startled Fisher drew back with an apologetic smile.

  "I couldn't think of doing a thing like that, sir."

  "Oh, you couldn't," sneered the visitor; "then lead on!"

  Fisher showed the way up the stairs. This time the traveller carriedno books. His left arm hung limply by his side and Fisher privatelygathered that the hand had got loose from the detaining pocketwithout its owner being aware of the fact. He pushed open the door andannounced, "Mr. Gathercole," and Kara came forward with a smile tomeet his agent, who, with top hat still on the top of his head, and hisovercoat dangling about his heels, must have made a remarkable picture.

  Fisher closed the door behind them and returned to his duties in thehall below. Ten minutes later he heard the door opened and the boomingvoice of the stranger came down to him. Fisher went up the stairs tomeet him and found him addressing the occupant of the room in his owneccentric fashion.

  "No more Patagonia!" he roared, "no more Tierra del Fuego!" he paused.

  "Certainly!" He replied to some question, "but not Patagonia," he pausedagain, and Fisher standing at the foot of the stairs wondered what hadoccurred to make the visitor so genial.

  "I suppose your cheque will be honoured all right?" asked the visitorsardonically, and then burst into a little chuckle of laughter as hecarefully closed the door.

  He came down the corridor talking to himself, and greeted Fisher.

  "Damn all Greeks," he said jovially, and Fisher could do no more thansmile reproachfully, the smile being his very own, the reproach being onbehalf of the master who paid him.

  The traveller touched the other on the chest with his right hand.

  "Never trust a Greek," he said, "always get your money in advance. Isthat clear to you?"

  "Yes, sir," said Fisher, "but I think you will always find that Mr. Karais always most generous about money."

  "Don't you believe it, don't you believe it, my poor man," said theother, "you--"

  At that moment there came from Kara's room a faint "clang."

  "What's that?" asked the visitor a little startled.

  "Mr. Kara's put down his steel latch," said Fisher with a smile, "whichmeans that he is not to be disturbed until--" he looked at his watch,"until eleven o'clock at any rate."

  "He's a funk!" snapped the other, "a beastly funk!"

  He stamped down the stairs as though testing the weight of every tread,opened the front door without assistance, slammed it behind him anddisappeared into the night.

  Fisher, his hands in his pockets, looked after the departing stranger,nodding his head in reprobation.

  "You're a queer old devil," he said, and looked at his watch again.

  It wanted five minutes to ten.