IV
OMAR OF ISPAHAN
I
"I hear that the Harem Suite is occupied," said Sir Bertram Collis,bustling up to me as I sat smoking in the gardens of a certain Cairohotel, which I shall not name because of the matters that befellthere. "Daphne is full of curiosity respecting the romantic occupant."
"Don't let Lady Collis be too sure," put in Chundermeyer, "that thereis anything romantic about the occupant."
"Your definition of romance, Chundermeyer," I interrupted, "wouldprobably be 'a diamond the size of a Spanish onion.'"
Chundermeyer smiled, but it was a smile in which his dark eyes,twinkling through the pebbles of horn-rimmed spectacles, played nopart. I must confess that the society of this unctuous partner in thewell-known Madras firm of Isaacs and Chundermeyer palled somewhat attimes. He, on the other hand, was eternally dropping into a chairbeside me, and proffering huge and costly cigars from a huge andcostly case. This sort of parvenu persecution is one of the penaltiesof being recognized by Debrett.
"As a matter of fact," I continued, "the occupant of the Harem Suiteis no less romantic a personage than the daughter of the Mudir(Governor) of the Fayum."
"Really!" said Chundermeyer, with that sudden interest which mentionof a title always aroused in him. "Surely it is most unusual for sohighly placed a Moslem lady to reside at an hotel?"
"Most unusual," I replied. "Of course such a thing would beinconceivable in India; but the management of this establishment, whocater almost exclusively to tourists, find, I am told, that a 'haremsuite' is quite a good advertisement. The reason of the presence ofthis lady in the hotel is a diplomatic one. She is visiting Cairo inorder to witness the procession of Ashura, peculiarly sacred toEgyptian women, and it appears that, having no blood relations here,she could not accept the hospitality of any one of the big familieswithout alienating the others."
"By Jove!" said Sir Bertram, "I must tell Daphne this yarn. She'll bedelighted! Come along, Kernaby; if we're to have tea at Mena House, itis high time we were off."
I left Chundermeyer to his opulent cigar without regret. That he wasan astute man of affairs and an expert lapidary I did not doubt, forhe had offered to buy my Hatshepsu scarab ring at a price exactly tenper cent below its trade value; but to my mind there is somethingalmost as unnatural about a Hindu-Hebrew as about a Graeco-Welshman ora griffin.
Of course, Daphne Collis was not ready; and, Sir Bertram going up totheir apartments to induce her to hurry, I strolled out again into thegardens for a quiet cigarette and a cocktail. As I approached asuitable seat in a sort of charming little arbor festooned with purpleblossom, a man who had been waiting there rose to greet me.
With a certain quickening of the pulse, I recognized Abu Tabah,arrayed, as was his custom, in black, only relieved by a small snowyturban, which served to enhance the ascetic beauty of his face and themystery of the wonderful, liquid eyes.
He inclined his head in that gesture of gentle dignity which I knew;and:
"I have been awaiting an opportunity of speech with you, KernabyPasha," he said, in his flawless, musical English, "upon a matter inwhich I hope you will consent to aid me."
Since this mysterious man, variously known as "the _imam_" and "theMagician," but whom I knew to be some kind of secret agent of theEgyptian Government, had recently saved me from assassination, todecline to aid him was out of the question. We seated ourselves in thearbor.
"I should welcome an opportunity of serving you, my friend," I assuredhim, "since your services to me can never be repaid."
His lips moved slightly in the curiously tender smile which a poorphysiognomist might have mistaken for evidence of effeminacy, bendingtowards me with a cautious glance about.
"You are staying at this hotel throughout the Christmas festivities?"he asked.
"Yes; I have temporarily deserted Shepheard's in order to accept thehospitality of Sir Bertram Collis, a very old friend. I shall probablyreturn on the Tuesday following Christmas Day."
"There is to be a carnival and masquerade ball here to-morrow. Youshall be present?"
"I hope so," I replied in surprise. "To what does all this tend?"
Abu Tabah bent yet closer.
"Many of your friends and acquaintances possess valuable jewels?"
"They do."
"Then warn them--individually, in order to occasion no generalalarm--to guard these with the utmost care."
My surprise increased. "You alarm me," I said. "Are there rogues inour midst?"
"No," answered the _imam_, fixing his melancholy gaze upon my face;"so far as my knowledge bears me, there is but one, yet that one isworse than a host of others."
"Do you mean that he is here--in the hotel?"
Abu Tabah shrugged his slim shoulders.
"If I knew his exact whereabouts," he replied, "there would be nooccasion to fear him. All that I know is that he is in Cairo; andsince many richly attired women of Europe and America will be hereto-morrow night, of a surety Omar Ali Khan will be here also!"
I shook my head in perplexity.
"Omar Ali Khan?"----I began.
"Ah," continued Abu Tabah, "to you that name conveys nothing, but tome it signifies Omar of Ispahan, 'the Father of Thieves.' Do youremember," fixing his strange eyes hypnotically upon me, "the theftof the sacred _burko_ of Nefiseh?"
"Quite well," I replied hastily; since the incident represented anunpleasant memory.
"It was Omar of Ispahan who stole it from the shrine. It was Omar ofIspahan who stole the blue diamond of the Rajah of Bagore from thetreasure-room at Jullapore, and Omar of Ispahan"--lowering his voicealmost to a whisper--"who stole the Holy Carpet ere it reached Mecca!"
"What!" I cried. "When did that happen? I never heard of such anepisode!"
Abu Tabah raised his long, slim hand warningly.
"Be cautious!" he whispered; "the flowers of the garden, the palms inthe grove, the very sands of the desert have ears! The lightest wordspoken in the _harem_ of the Khedive, or breathed from a minaret ofthe Citadel, is heard by Omar of Ispahan! The holy covering for theKaaba was restored, on payment of a ruinous ransom by the Sherif ofMecca, and none save the few ever knew of its loss."
For a time I was silent; words failed me; for the veil of the Kaaba,miscalled "the Carpet," is about the size of a bowling-green; then--
"In what manner does this affair concern you, Abu Tabah?" I asked.
"In this way: the daughter of the Mudir el-Fayum is here, in orderthat she may be present on the Night of Ashura in the Muski. For aMoslem lady to stay in such a place as this"--there was a faint noteof contempt in the speaker's voice--"is without precedent, but thecircumstances are peculiar. The _khan_ near the Mosque of Hosein isfull, and it is not seemly that the Mudir's daughter should live atany lesser establishment. Therefore, as she brings her two servants,it has been possible for her to remain here. But"--his voice sankagain--"her ornaments are famed throughout Islam."
I nodded comprehendingly.
"To me," Abu Tabah whispered, "has been entrusted the task of guardingthem; to you, I entrust that of guarding the possessions of the otherguests!"
I started.
"But, my friend," I said, "this is a dreadful responsibility which youimpose upon me."
"Other precautions are being taken," he replied calmly; "but you,observing great circumspection, can speak to the guests, and, beingforewarned of his presence, can even watch for the coming of Omar ofIspahan."
II
The effect of my news upon Lady Collis was truly dramatic.
"Oh," she cried, "my rope of pearls. Mr. Chundermeyer only told melast week that it was worth at least two hundred pound more than Igave for it."
Mr. Chundermeyer had made himself popular with many of the ladies inthe hotel by similar diplomatic means, but I think that if he had beencompelled to purchase at his own flattering valuations Messrs. Isaacsand Chundermeyer would have been ruined.
"You need not wear it, my dear," said her husband tactless
ly.
"Don't be so ridiculous!" she retorted. "You know I have brought myQueen of Sheba costume for to-morrow night."
That, of course, settled the matter, so that beyond making one prettywoman extremely nervous, my campaign against the dreaded Omar ofIspahan had opened--blankly. Later in the day I circulated my warningright and left, and everywhere sowed consternation without reaping anyappreciable result.
"One naturally expects thieves on these occasions," said a littleChicago millionairess, "and if I only wore my diamonds when no rogueswere about, I might as well have none. There are crooks in America I'dback against your Persian thief any day."
On the whole, I think, the best audience for my dramatic recitationwas provided by Mr. Chundermeyer, whom I found in the American bar,just before the dinner hour. His yellow skin perceptibly blanched atmy first mention of Omar Ali Khan, and one hand clutched at a bulgingbreast pocket of the dinner-jacket he wore.
"Good heavens, Mr. Kernaby," he said, "you alarm me--you alarm me,sir!"
"The reputation of Omar is not unknown to you?"
"By no means unknown to me," he responded in the thick, unctuous voicewhich betrayed the Semitic strain in his pedigree. "It was this manwho stole the pair of blue diamonds from the Rajah of Bagore."
"So I am told."
"But have you been told that it was my firm who bought those diamondsfor the Rajah?"
"No; that is news to me."
"It was my firm, Mr. Kernaby, who negotiated the sale of the bluediamonds to the Rajah; therefore the particulars of their loss, undermost extraordinary circumstances, are well known to me. You have mademe very nervous. Who is your informant?"
"A member of the native police with whom I am acquainted."
Mr. Chundermeyer shook his head lugubriously.
"I am conveying a parcel of rough stones to Amsterdam," he confessed,glancing warily about him over the rims of his spectacles, "and I feelvery much disposed to ask for more reliable protection than is offeredby your Egyptian friend."
"Why not lodge the stones in a bank, or in the manager's safe?"
He shook his head again, and proffered an enormous cigar.
"I distrust all safes but my own," he replied. "I prefer to carry suchvaluables upon my person, foolish though the plan may seem to you. Butdo you observe that squarely built, military looking person standingat the bar, in conversation with M. Balabas, the manager?"
"Yes; an officer, I should judge."
"Precisely; a _police_ officer. That is Chief Inspector Carlisle ofNew Scotland Yard."
"But he is a guest here."
"Certainly. The management sustained a severe loss last Christmasduring the progress of a ball at which all Cairo was present, and asthe inspector chanced to be on his way home from India, where officialbusiness had taken him, M. Balabas induced him to break his journeyand remain until after the carnival."
"Wait a moment," I said; "I will bring him over."
Crossing to the bar, I greeted Balabas, with whom I was acquainted,and--
"Mr. Chundermeyer and I have been discussing the notorious Omar ofIspahan, who is said to be in Cairo," I remarked.
Inspector Carlisle, being introduced, smiled broadly.
"Mr. Balabas is very nervous about this Omar man," he replied, witha slight Scottish accent; "but, considering that everybody has beenwarned, I don't see myself that he can do much damage."
"Perhaps you would be good enough to reassure Mr. Chundermeyer,"I suggested, "who is carrying valuables."
Chief Inspector Carlisle walked over to the table at whichChundermeyer was seated.
"I have met your partner, sir," he said, "and I gathered that youwere on your way to Amsterdam with a parcel of rough stones; in fact,I supposed that you had arrived there by now."
"I am fond of Cairo during the Christmas season," explained the other,"and I broke my journey. But now I sincerely wish I were elsewhere."
"Oh, I shouldn't worry!" said the detective cheerily. "There areenough of us on the look-out."
But Mr. Chundermeyer remained palpably uneasy.
III
The gardens of the hotel on the following night presented a fairy-likespectacle. Lights concealed among the flower-beds, the bloom-coveredarbors, and the feathery leafage of the acacias, suffused a sort ofweird glow, suggesting the presence of a million fire-flies. Upbeneath the crowns of the lofty palms little colored electric lampswere set, producing an illusion of supernatural fruit, whilst thefountain had been magically converted into a cascade of fire.
In the ball-room, where the orchestra played, and a hundred mosquelamps bathed the apartment in soft illumination, a cosmopolitan throngdanced around a giant Christmas tree, their costumes a clash of colorto have filled a theatrical producer with horror, outraging historyand linking the ages in startling fashion. Thus, St. Antony of theThebaeid danced with Salome, the luresome daughter of Herodias; Nero'sarm was about the waist of Good Queen Bess; Charles II canteredthrough a two-step with a red-haired Vestal Virgin; and the Queen ofSheba (Daphne Collis) had no less appropriate a partner than SherlockHolmes.
Doubtless it was all very amusing, but, personally, I stand by mycommonplace dress-suit, having, perhaps, rather a ridiculous senseof dignity. Inspector Carlisle also was soberly arrayed, and we hadseveral chats during the evening; he struck me as being a man ofconsiderable culture and great shrewdness.
For Abu Tabah I looked in vain. Following our conservation on theprevious afternoon, he had vanished like a figment of a dream. Iseveral times saw Chundermeyer, who had elected to disguise himselfas Al-Mokanna, the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan. He seemed to be anenthusiastic dancer, and there was no lack of partners.
But of these mandarins, pierrots, Dutch girls, monks, and court ladiesI speedily tired, and sought refuge in the gardens, whose enchantedaspect was completed by that wondrous inverted bowl, jewel-studded,which is the nightly glory of Egypt. In the floral, dim-lighted arborsmany romantic couples shrank from the peeping moon; but quiet and ahushful sense of peace ruled there beneath the stars more in harmonywith my mood.
One corner of the gardens, in particular, seemed to be quite deserted,and it was the most picturesque spot of all. For here a graceful palmupstood before an outjutting _mushrabiyeh_ window, dimly lighted, overwhich trailed a wealth of bougainvillea blossom, whilst beneath it laya floral carpet, sharply bisected by the shadow of the palm trunk. Itwas like some gorgeous illustration to a poem by Hafiz, only lackingthe figure at the window.
And as I stood, enchanted, before the picture, the central panels ofthe window were thrown open, and, as if conjured up by my imagination,a woman appeared, looking out into the gardens--an Oriental woman,robed in shimmering, moon-kissed white, and wearing a white _yashmak_.Her arms and fingers were laden with glittering jewels.
I almost held my breath, drawing back into the sheltering shadow, forI had not hitherto suspected myself of being a sorcerer. For perhapsa minute, or less, she stood looking out, then the window closed, andthe white phantom disappeared. I recovered myself, recognizing that Istood before the isolated wing of the hotel known as the Harem Suite,and that Fate had granted me a glimpse of the daughter of the Mudir ofthe Fayum.
Recollecting, in the nick of time, an engagement to dance with LadyCollis, I hurried back to the ball-room. On its very threshold Iencountered Chundermeyer. I could see his spectacles glitteringthrough the veil of his ridiculous costume, and even before he spokeI detected about him an aura of tragedy.
"Mr. Kernaby," he gasped, "for Heaven's sake help me to find InspectorCarlisle! I have been robbed!"
"What?"
"My diamonds!"
"You don't mean----"
"Find the inspector, and come to my rooms. I am nearly mad!"
Daphne Collis, who had seen me enter, joined us at this moment, and,overhearing the latter part of Chundermeyer's speech:
"Oh, whatever is the matter?" she whispered.
As for Chundermeyer the effect upon him of her sudden appearance waspo
sitively magical. He stared through his veil as though her charmingfigure had been that of some hideous phantom. Then slowly, as if hedreaded to find her intangible, he extended one hand and touched herrope of pearls.
"Ah, heavens!" he gasped. "I am really going mad, or is there amagician amongst us?"
Daphne Collis's blue eyes opened very widely, and the color slowlyfaded from her cheeks.
"Mr. Chundermeyer," she began. But--
"Let us go into this little recess, where there is a good light,"mumbled Chundermeyer shakily, "and I will make sure."
The three of us entered the palm-screened alcove, Chundermeyerleading. He stood immediately under a lamp suspended by brass chainsfrom the roof.
"Permit me to examine your pearls for one moment," he said.
Her hands trembling, Daphne Collis took off the costly ornament andplaced it in the hands of the greatly perturbed expert. Chundermeyerran the pearls through his fingers, then lifted the largest of the settowards the light and scrutinized it closely. Suddenly he dropped hisarms, and extended the necklace upon one open palm.
"Look for yourself," he said slowly. "It does not require the eyes ofan expert."
Daphne Collis snatched the pearls and stared at them dazedly. Herpretty face was now quite colorless.
"This is not my rope of pearls," she said, in a monotonous voice; "itis a very poor imitation!"
Ere I could frame any kind of speech--
"Look at this," groaned Chundermeyer, "as you talk of a poorimitation!"
He was holding out a leather-covered box, plush-lined, and bearingwithin the words, "Isaacs and Chundermeyer, Madras." Nestlinggrotesquely amid the blue velvet were six small pieces of coal!
Chundermeyer sank upon the cushions of the settee, tossing the casketupon a little coffee table.
"I am afraid I feel unwell," he said feebly. "Mr. Kernaby, I wonder ifyou would be so kind as to find Inspector Carlisle, and ask a waiterto bring me some cognac."
"Oh, what shall I do, what shall I do?" whispered poor Daphne Collis.
"Just remain here," I said soothingly, "with Mr. Chundermeyer." And Iinduced her to sit in a big cane rest-chair. "I will return in amoment with Bertram and the inspector."
Desiring to avoid a panic, I walked quietly into the ball-room andtook stock of the dancers, for a waltz was in progress. The inspectorI could not see, but Sir Bertram I observed at the further end of thefloor, dancing with Mrs. Van Heysten, the Chicago lady whom I hadwarned to keep a close watch upon her diamonds.
I managed to attract Collis's attention, and the pair, quitting thefloor, joined me where I stood. A few words sufficed in which toinform them of the catastrophe, and, pointing out the alcove whereinI had left Chundermeyer and Lady Collis, I set off in search ofInspector Carlisle.
Ten minutes later, having visited every likely spot, I came to theconclusion that he was not in the hotel, and with M. Balabas Ireturned to the alcove adjoining the ball-room. Dancing was in fullswing, and I thought as we passed along the edge of the floor howeasily I could have checked the festivities by announcing that Omarof Ispahan was present.
The first sight to greet me upon entering the little palm-shadedalcove was that of Mrs. Van Heysten in tears. She had discoveredherself to be wearing a very indifferent duplicate of her famousdiamond tiara.
I think it was my action of soothingly patting her upon the shoulderthat drew Chundermeyer's attention to my Hatshepsu scarab.
"Mr. Kernaby!" he cried--"Mr. Kernaby!" And pointed to my finger.
I had had the scarab set in a revolving bezel, and habitually wore itwith its beetle uppermost and the cartouche concealed. As I glanceddown at the ring, Chundermeyer stretched out his hand and detached itfrom my finger. Approaching the light, he turned the bezel.
The flat part of the scarab was quite blank, bearing no inscriptionwhatever. Like Lady Collis's rope of pearls, Mrs. Van Heysten's tiara,and Chundermeyer's diamonds, it was a worthless and very indifferentduplicate!
IV
Never can I forget the scene in that crowded little room--poor M.Balabas all anxiety respecting the reputation of his establishment,and vainly endeavoring to reason with the victims of the amazing OmarKhan. Finally--
"I will search for Inspector Carlisle myself," said Mr. Chundermeyer;"and if I cannot find him, I shall be compelled to communicate withthe local police authorities."
M. Balabas still volubly protesting, the unfortunate Veiled Prophetmade his way from the alcove. I cannot say if the inspiration came asthe result of a sort of auto-hypnosis induced by staring at the worthlessring in my hand--the stone was not even real lapis-lazuli--but a theoryregarding the manner in which these ingenious substitutions had beeneffected suddenly entered my mind.
Three minutes later I was knocking at the door of Chundermeyer's room.I received no invitation to enter, and the door was locked. I soughtM. Balabas; and, without confiding to him the theory upon which I wasacting, I urged the desirability of gaining access to the apartment.As a result, a master key was procured, and we entered.
At the first glance the room seemed to be empty, though it showedevidence of having recently been occupied, for it was in the utmostdisorder. Perhaps we should have quitted it unenlightened, if I hadnot detected the sound of a faint groan proceeding from the closedwardrobe. Stepping across the room, I opened the double doors, andout into my arms fell a limp figure, bound hand and foot, and havinga bath-towel secured tightly around the head to act as a gag. It wasMr. Chundermeyer!
I think, as I helped to unfasten him, I was the most surprised man inthe land of Egypt. He was arrayed only in a bath-robe and slippers,and his bare wrists and ankles were cruelly galled by the cords whichhad bound him. For some minutes he was unable to utter a word, andwhen at last he achieved speech, his first utterance constituted averbal thunderbolt.
"I have been robbed!" he cried huskily. "I was sand-bagged as I camefrom my bath, and look--everyone of my cases is gone!"
It was M. Balabas who answered him.
"As you returned from your _bath_, Mr. Chundermeyer?" he said. "Atwhat time was that?"
"About a quarter-past seven," was the amazing reply.
"But, good Heaven!" cried M. Balabas, "I was speaking to you less thanten minutes ago!"
"You are mad!" groaned Chundermeyer, rubbing his bruised wrists. "HaveI not been locked in the wardrobe all night!"
"Ah, merciful saints," cried M. Balabas, dramatically raising hisclenched fists to heaven, "I see it all! You understand, Mr. Kernaby.It is _not_ Mr. Chundermeyer with whom we have been conversing, inwhose hands you have been placing your valuables, it is that devilincarnate who three years ago impersonated the Emir al-Hadj, in orderto steal the Holy Carpet; who can impersonate anyone; who, it is said,can transform himself at will into an old woman, a camel, or a figtree; it is the conjuror, the wizard--Omar of Ispahan!"
My own ideas were almost equally chaotic; for although, as I nowrecalled, I had never throughout the evening obtained a thoroughlygood view of the features of the Veiled Prophet, I could have swornto the voice, to the carriage, to the manner of Mr. Chundermeyer.
The puzzling absence of Chief Inspector Carlisle now engagedeverybody's attention; and, acting upon the precedent afforded by thefinding of Mr. Chundermeyer, we paid a visit to the detective's room.
Inspector Carlisle, fully dressed, and still wearing a soft felt hat,as though he had but just come in, lay on the floor, unconscious, withthe greater part of a cigar, which examination showed to be drugged,close beside him.
* * * * *
As I entered my room that night and switched on the light, in throughthe open window from the balcony stepped Abu Tabah.
His frequent and mysterious appearances in my private apartments didnot surprise me in the least, and I had even ceased to wonder how heaccomplished them; but--
"You are too late, my friend," I said. "Omar of Ispahan has outwittedyou."
"Omar of Ispahan has outwitted men wiser than I," he r
eplied gravely;"but covetousness is a treacherous master, and I am not without hopethat we may yet circumvent the father of thieves."
"You are surely jesting," I replied. "In all probability he is now farfrom Cairo."
"I, on the contrary, have reason to believe," replied Abu Tabahcalmly, "that he is neither far from Cairo, far from the hotel,nor far from this very apartment."
His manner was strange and I discovered excitement to be growingwithin me.
"Accompany me on the balcony," he said; "but first extinguish thelight."
A moment later I stood looking down upon the moon-bathed gardens,and Abu Tabah, beside me, stretched out his hand.
"You see the projecting portion of the building yonder?"
"Yes," I replied; "the Harem Suite."
"Immediately before the window there is a palm tree."
"I have observed it."
"And upon the opposite side of the path there is an acacia."
"Yes; I see it."
"The moon is high, and whilst all the side of the hotel is in shadowthe acacia is in the moonlight. Its branches would afford concealment,however; and one watching there could see what would be hidden fromone on this balcony. I request you, Kernaby Pasha, to approach that_lebbekh_ tree from the further side of the fountain, in order toremain invisible from the hotel. Climb to one of the lower branches,and closely watch four windows."
I stared at him in the darkness.
"Which are the four windows that I am to watch?"
"They are--one, that immediately below your own; two, that to theright of it; three, the window above the Harem Suite; and, four,the extreme east window of this wing, on the first floor."
Now, my state of mystification grew even denser. For the windowsspecified were, in the order of mention, that of Inspector Carlisle,who had not yet recovered consciousness; of Mr. Chundermeyer; ofMajor Redpath, a retired Anglo-Indian who had been confined to hisroom for some time with an attack of malaria; and of M. Balabas,the manager.
"For what," I inquired, "am I to watch?"
"For a man to descend."
"And then?"
"You will hold your open watch case where it is clearly visible fromthis spot. Instant upon the man's appearance you will cover it up,and then uncover it, either once, twice, thrice, or four times."
"After which?"
"Remain scrupulously concealed. Have the collar of your dinner jacketturned up in order to betray as little whiteness as possible. Do notinterfere with the man who descends; but if he enters the Harem Suite,see that he does not come out again! There is no time for furtherexplanation, Kernaby Pasha; it is Omar of Ispahan with whom we haveto deal!"
V
Perched up amid the foliage of the acacia, I commenced that singularguard imposed upon me by Abu Tabah. Did he suspect one of these fourpersons of being the notorious Omar? Or had his mysteriousinstructions some other significance? The problem defied me; and,recognizing that I was hopelessly at sea, I abandoned uselessconjecture and merely watched.
Nor was my vigil a long one. I doubt if I had been at my post for tenminutes ere a vague figure appeared upon the shadow-veiled balcony ofone of the suspected windows--that of Major Redpath, above the HaremSuite!
Scarcely daring to credit my eyes, I saw the figure throw down on tothe projecting top of the _mushrabiyeh_ window below a slender ropeladder. I covered the gleaming gold of my watch-case with my hand, andgave the signal--_three_.
The spirit of phantasy embraced me; and, unmoved to further surprise,I watched the unknown swarm down the ladder with the agility of anape. He seemed to wear a robe, surely that of the _Veiled Prophet_!He silently manipulated one of the side-panels of the window, openedit, and vanished within the Harem Suite.
Raising my eyes, I beheld a second figure--that of AbuTabah--descending a similar ladder to the balcony of InspectorCarlisle's room. He gained the balcony and entered the room. Fourseconds elapsed; he reappeared, unfurled a greater length of ladder,and came down to the flower-beds. Lithely as a cat he came to theprojecting _mushrabiyeh_, swung himself aloft, and as I watchedbreathlessly, expecting him to enter in pursuit of the intruder,climbed to the top and began to mount the ladder descending fromMajor Redpath's room!
He had just reached the major's balcony, and was stepping throughthe open window, when a most alarming din arose in the Harem Suite;evidently a fierce struggle was proceeding in the apartments of theMudir's daughter!
I scrambled down from the acacia and ran to the spot immediately belowthe window, arriving at the very moment that the central lattice wasthrown open, and a white-veiled figure appeared there and prepared tospring down! Perceiving my approach:
"Oh, help me, in the name of Allah!" cried the woman, in a voiceshrill with fear. "Quick--catch me!"
Ere I could frame any reply, she clutched at the palm tree and droppeddown right into my extended arms, as a crashing of overturnedfurniture came from the room above.
"Help them!" she entreated. "You are armed, and my women are beingmurdered."
"Help, Kernaby Pasha!" now reached my ears, in the unmistakable voiceof Abu Tabah, from somewhere within. "See that he does not escape fromthe window!"
"Coming!" I cried.
And, by means of the palm trunk, I began to mount towards the openlattice.
Gaining my objective, I stumbled into a room which presented a sceneof the wildest disorder. It was a large apartment, well but sparselyfurnished in the Eastern manner, and lighted by three hanging lamps.Directly under one of these, beside an overturned cabinet of richlycarven wood inlaid with mother-o'-pearl, lay a Nubian, insensible,and arrayed only in shirt and trousers. There was no one else in theroom, and, not pausing to explore those which opened out of it, I ranand unbolted the heavy door upon which Abu Tabah was clamoring foradmittance.
The _imam_ leaped into the room, rebolted the door, and glanced tothe right and left; then he ran into the adjoining apartments, andfinally, observing the insensible Nubian upon the floor, he staredinto my face, and I read anger in the eyes that were wont to be sogentle.
"Did I not enjoin you to prevent his escape from the window?" hecried.
"No one escaped from the window, my friend," I retorted, "exceptthe lady who was occupying the suite."
Abu Tabah fixed his weird eyes upon me in a hypnotic stare of suchuncanny power that I was angrily conscious of much difficulty insustaining it; but gradually the quelling look grew less harsh, andfinally his whole expression softened, and that sweet smile, whichcould so transform his face, disturbed the severity of the set lips.
"No man is infallible," he said. "And wiser than you or I have shownthemselves the veriest fools in contest with Omar Ali Khan. But know,O Kernaby Pasha, that the lady who occupied this suite secretly leftit at sunset to-night, bearing her jewels with her, and he"--pointingto the insensible Nubian on the floor--"took her place and wore herraiment----"
"Then the Mudir's daughter----"
"Is my sister Ayesha!"
I looked at him reproachfully, but he met my gaze with calm pride.
"Subterfuge was permitted by the Prophet, (on whom be peace)," hecontinued; "but not lying! My sister _is_ the daughter of the Mudirel-Fayum."
It was a rebuke, perhaps a merited one; and I accepted it in silence.Although, from the moment that I had first set eyes on him, I hadnever doubted Abu Tabah to be a man of good family, this modest avowalwas something of a revelation.
"Her presence here, which was permitted by my father," he said, "was atrap; for it is well known throughout the Moslem world that she is thepossessor of costly ornaments. The trap succeeded. Omar of Ispahan, atgreat risk of discovery, remained to steal her jewels, although he hadalready amassed a choice collection."
Someone had begun to bang upon the bolted door, and there was anexcited crowd beneath the window.
"You supposed, no doubt," the _imam_ resumed calmly, "that I suspectedMajor Redpath and M. Balabas, as well as Mr. Chundermeyer and theEnglish detective? It was not so. But I regarded the
room of M.Balabas as excellently situated for Omar's purpose, and I knew that M.Balabas rarely retired earlier than one o'clock. Even more suitablewas that of Major Redpath, whose illness I believe to have been due tosome secret art of Omar's."
"But he is down with chronic malaria!"
"It may even be so; yet I believe the attack to have been induced byOmar of Ispahan."
"But why?"
"Because, as I learned to-night, Major Redpath is the only person inCairo who has ever met Mr. Chundermeyer! I will confess that untilless than an hour ago I did not know if Inspector Carlisle was_really_ an inspector! Oh, it is a seeming absurdity; but Omar ofIspahan is a wizard! Therefore I entered the inspector's room, andfound him to be still unconscious. Major Redpath was in deep slumber,and Omar had entered and quitted his room without disturbing him. Idid likewise, and visited Mr. Chundermeyer's--the door was ajar--onmy way downstairs."
"But, my friend," I said amazedly, "with my own eyes I beheld Mr.Chundermeyer gagged and bound in his wardrobe! I saw his bruisedwrists!"
"He gagged, bound, and bruised himself!" replied Abu Tabah calmly."With my own eyes I once beheld a blind mendicant hanging by the neckfrom a fig tree, a bloody froth upon his lips. I cut him down and lefthim for dead. Yet was he neither dead nor a blind mendicant; he wasOmar Ali Khan! Oblige me by opening the door, Kernaby Pasha."
I obeyed, and an excited throng burst in, headed by M. Balabas andInspector Carlisle, the latter looking very pale and haggard!
"Where is the man posing as Chundermeyer?" began the detectivehoarsely. "By sheer sleight-of-hand, and under ye're verynoses"--excitement rendered him weirdly Caledonian--"he has robbedye! I cabled Madras to-day, and the real Chundermeyer arrived atAmsterdam last Friday! As I returned with the reply cable in my pocketto-night I became so dizzy I was only just able to get to my room.He'd doctored every smoke in my case! Where is he?"
"I assisted him to escape, disguised as a woman, some ten minutesago," I replied feebly. "I should be sincerely indebted to you ifyou would kick me."
"Escaped!" roared Inspector Carlisle. "Then what are ye doing here?Pursue him, somebody! Are ye all mad?"
"We should be," said Abu Tabah, "to attempt pursuit. As well pursuethe shadow of a cloud, the first spear of sunrise, or the phantomheifer of Pepi-Ankh, as pursue Omar of Ispahan! He is gone--butempty-handed. Behold what I recovered from 'Mr. Chundermeyer's' room."
From beneath his black _gibbeh_ he took out a leather bag, opened it,and displayed to our startled eyes the tiara of Mrs. Van Heysten, therope of pearls, and--my Hatshepsu scarab!
Ere anyone could utter a word, Abu Tabah inclined his head indignified salutation, turned, and walked stately from the room.