The Quest of the Sacred Slipper Read online

  CHAPTER II

  THE GIRL WITH THE VIOLET EYES

  During the next day or two my mind constantly reverted to theincidents of the voyage home. I was perfectly convinced that thecurtain had been partially raised upon some fantasy in whichProfessor Deeping figured.

  But I had seen no more of Deeping nor had I heard from him, whenabruptly I found myself plunged again into the very vortex of histroubled affairs. I was half way through a long article, Iremember, upon the mystery of the outrage at the docks. The poorsteward whose hand had been severed lay in a precarious condition,but the police had utterly failed to trace the culprit.

  I had laid down my pen to relight my pipe (the hour was about tenat night) when a faint sound from the direction of the outsidedoor attracted my attention. Something had been thrust throughthe letter-box.

  "A circular," I thought, when the bell rang loudly, imperatively.

  I went to the door. A square envelope lay upon the mat--acurious envelope, pale amethyst in colour. Picking it up, I foundit to bear my name--written simply--

  "Mr. Cavanagh."

  Tearing it open I glanced at the contents. I threw open the door.No one was visible upon the landing, but when I leaned over thebanister a white-clad figure was crossing the hall, below.

  Without hesitation, hatless, I raced down the stairs. As I crossedthe dimly lighted hall and came out into the peaceful twilight ofthe court, my elusive visitor glided under the archway opposite.

  Just where the dark and narrow passage opened on to Fleet StreetI overtook her--a girl closely veiled and wrapped in a long coatof white ermine.

  "Madam," I said.

  She turned affrightedly.

  "Please do not detain me!" Her accent was puzzling, but pleasing.She glanced apprehensively about her.

  You have seen the moon through a mist?--and known it for what itwas in spite of its veiling? So, now, through the cloudy foldsof the veil, I saw the stranger's eyes, and knew them for the mostbeautiful eyes I had ever seen, had ever dreamt of.

  "But you must explain the meaning of your note!"

  "I cannot! I cannot! Please do not ask me!"

  She was breathless from her flight and seemed to be trembling.From behind the cloud her eyes shone brilliantly, mysteriously.

  I was sorely puzzled. The whole incident was bizarre--indeed, ithad in it something of the uncanny. Yet I could not detain the girlagainst her will. That she went in apprehension of something, ofsomeone, was evident.

  Past the head of the passage surged the noisy realities of FleetStreet. There were men there in quest of news; men who wouldhave given much for such a story as this in which I was becomingentangled. Yet a story more tantalizingly incomplete could notwell be imagined.

  I knew that I stood upon the margin of an arena wherein strangeadversaries warred to a strange end. But a mist was over all.Here, beside me, was one who could disperse the mist--and wouldnot. Her one anxiety seemed to be to escape.

  Suddenly she raised her veil; and I looked fully into the onlyreally violet eyes I had ever beheld. Mentally, I started. Forthe face framed in the snowy fur was the most bewitchingly lovelyimaginable. One rebellious lock of wonderful hair swept acrossthe white brow. It was brown hair, with an incomprehensiblesheen in the high lights that suggested the heart of a blood-redrose.

  "Oh," she cried, "promise me that you will never breathe a wordto any one about my visit!"

  "I promise willingly," I said; "but can you give me no hint?"

  "Honestly, truly, I cannot, dare not, say more! Only promise thatyou will do as I ask!"

  Since I could perceive no alternative--

  "I will do so," I replied.

  "Thank you--oh, thank you!" she said; and dropping her veil againshe walked rapidly away from me, whispering, "I rely upon you. Donot fail me. Good-bye!"

  Her conspicuous white figure joined the hurrying throngs upon thepavement beyond. My curiosity brooked no restraint. I hurried tothe end of the courtway. She was crossing the road. From theshadows where he had lurked, a man came forward to meet her. Avehicle obstructed the view ere I could confirm my impression; andwhen it had passed, neither my lovely visitor nor her companionwere anywhere in sight.

  But, unless some accident of light and shade had deceived me, theman who had waited was Ahmad Ahmadeen!

  It seemed that some astral sluice-gate was raised; a dreadful senseof foreboding for the first time flooded my mind. Whilst the girlhad stood before me it had been different--the mysterious charm ofher personality had swamped all else. But now, the messenger gone,it was the purport of her message which assumed supreme significance.

  Written in odd, square handwriting upon the pale amethyst paper,this was the message--

  Prevail upon Professor Deeping to place what he has in the brown case in the porch of his house to-night. If he fails to do so, no power on earth can save him from the Scimitar of Hassan.

  A FRIEND.