er seen a smile of
such sweetness--"your papers know all! Now I understand why a
Moslem is required, and I understand what is required of him. But
remembering that the object of his labours would be to place a
holy relic on exhibition for the amusement of unbelievers, can you
reasonably expect to obtain the services of one?"

His point of view was fair enough.

"Perhaps not," I replied. "For my own part I should wish to see
the slipper back in Mecca, or wherever it came from. But Professor
Deeping--"

"Professor Deeping was a thorn in the flesh of the Faithful!"

My visitor's voice was gravely reproachful.

"Nevertheless his wishes must be considered," I said, "and the
methods adopted by those who seek to recover the relic are such
as to alienate all sympathy."

"You speak of the Hashishin?" asked the old man. "Mr. Cavanagh, in
your own faith you have had those who spilled the blood of infidels
as freely!"

"My good sir, the existence of such an organization cannot be
tolerated today! This survival of the dark ages must be stamped
out. However just a cause may be, secret murder is not permissible,
as you, a man of culture, a Believer, and"--I glanced at his
unusual turban--"a descendant of the Prophet, must admit."

"I can admit nothing against the Guardian of the Tradition, Mr.
Cavanagh! The Prophet taught that we should smite the Infidel. I
ask you--have you the courage of your convictions?"

"Perhaps; I trust so."

"Then assist me to rid England of what you have called a survival
of the dark ages. I will furnish porters to remove and carry the
safe, if you will deliver to me the key!"

I sprang to my feet.

"That is madness!" I cried. "In the first place I should be
compromising with my conscience, and in the second place I should
be defenceless against those who might--"

"I have with me a written promise from one highly placed--one to
whose will Hassan of Aleppo bows!"

My mind greatly disturbed, I watched the venerable speaker. I had
determined now that he was some religious leader of Islam in
England, who had been deputed to approach me; and, let me add, I
was sorely tempted to accede to his proposal, for nothing would be
gained by any one if the slipper remained for ever at the museum,
whereas by conniving at its recovery by those who, after all, were
its rightful owners I should be ridding England of a weird and
undesirable visitant.

I think I should have agreed, when I rememb