e gave no sign of his existence. I
began to fear that with him, too, things had miscarried.

And yet I wasn't really depressed, only impatient. I could never again
get back to the beastly stagnation of that Constantinople week. The
guns kept me cheerful. There was the devil of a bombardment all day,
and the thought that our Allies were thundering there half a dozen
miles off gave me a perfectly groundless hope. If they burst through
the defence Hilda von Einem and her prophet and all our enemies would
be overwhelmed in the deluge. And that blessed chance depended very
much on old Peter, now brooding like a pigeon on the house-tops.

It was not till the late afternoon that Hussin appeared again. He took
no notice of Peter's absence, but lit a lantern and set it on the
table. Then he went to the door and waited. Presently a light step
fell on the stairs, and Hussin drew back to let someone enter. He
promptly departed and I heard the key turn in the lock behind him.

Sandy stood there, but a new Sandy who made Blenkiron and me jump to
our feet. The pelts and skin-cap had gone, and he wore instead a long
linen tunic clasped at the waist by a broad girdle. A strange green
turban adorned his head, and as he pushed it back I saw that his hair
had been shaved. He looked like some acolyte--a weary acolyte, for
there was no spring in his walk or nerve in his carriage. He dropped
numbly on the divan and laid his head in his hands. The lantern showed
his haggard eyes with dark lines beneath them.

'Good God, old man, have you been sick?' I cried.

'Not sick,' he said hoarsely. 'My body is right enough, but the last
few days I have been living in hell.'

Blenkiron nodded sympathetically. That was how he himself would have
described the company of the lady.

I marched across to him and gripped both his wrists.

'Look at me,' I said, 'straight in the eyes.'

His eyes were like a sleep-walker's, unwinking, unseeing. 'Great
heavens, man, you've been drugged!' I said.

'Drugged,' he cried, with a weary laugh. 'Yes, I have been drugged,
but not by any physic. No one has been doctoring my food. But you
can't go through hell without getting your eyes red-hot.'

I kept my grip on his wrists. 'Take your time, old chap, and tell us
about it. Blenkiron and I are here, and old Peter's on the roof not
far off. We'll look after you.'

'It does me good to hear your voice, Dick,' he said. 'It reminds me of
clea