of that thought, the foul doing to death of the fearless
Frenchman, he gnashed his teeth savagely and strained at the gyves
until the pain in his ankles brought out beads of perspiration upon
his forehead.

He dropped his head into his hands and frenziedly clutched at his
hair with twitching fingers.

The faint sound occasioned by the opening of one of the sliding doors
brought him sharply upright.

Miska entered!

She looked so bewilderingly beautiful that terror and sorrow fled,
leaving Stuart filled only with passionate admiration. She wore an
Eastern dress of gauzy shimmering silk and high-heeled gilt Turkish
slippers upon her stockingless feet. About her left ankle was a gold
bangle, and there was barbaric jewellery upon her arms. She was a
figure unreal as all lose in that house of dreams, but a figure so
lovely that Stuart forgot the yellow flask ... forgot that less than
ten minutes of life remained to him.

"Miska!" he whispered--"Miska!"

She exhibited intense but repressed excitement and fear. Creeping to
the second door--that by which Fo-Hi had gone out--she pressed her
ear to the lacquered panel and listened intently. Then, coming swiftly
to the table, she took up a bunch of keys, approached Stuart and,
kneeling, unlocked the gyves. The scent of jasmine stole to his
nostrils.

"God bless you!" he said with stifled ardour.

She rose quickly to her feet, standing before him with head downcast.
Stuart rose with difficulty. His legs were cramped and aching. He
grasped Miska's hand and endeavoured to induce her to look up. One
swift glance she gave him and looked away again.

"You must go--this instant," she said. "I show you the way. There is
not a moment to lose...."

"Miska!"

She glanced at him again.

"You must come with me!"

"Ah!" she whispered--"that is impossible! Have I not told you so?"

"You have told me, but I cannot understand. Here, in England, you are
free. Why should you remain with that cowled monster?"

"Shall I tell you?" she asked, and he could feel how she trembled. "If
I tell you, will you promise to believe me--and to go?"

"Not without you!"

"Ah! no, no! If I tell you that my only chance of life--such a
little, little chance--is to stay, will you go?"

Stuart secured her other hand and drew her toward him, half resisting.

"Tell me," he said softly. "I will believe you--and if it can spare
you one moment of pain or sorrow, I will go as you ask me."

"Listen,