ied away, and in the ensuing
silence I heard the rustle of draperies. The newcomer was a woman,
then. Fearful of making any noise I yet managed to get my eyes to the
level of the shutter.

A woman in an elegant, flame-colored opera cloak was crossing the floor
and coming in the direction of the spot where we were concealed. She
wore a soft silk scarf about her head, a fold partly draped across her
face. A momentary view I had of her--and wildly incongruous she looked
in that place--and she had disappeared from sight, having approached
someone invisible who sat upon the divan immediately beneath our point
of vantage.

From the way in which the company gazed towards her, I divined that she
was no habitue of the place, but that her presence there was as greatly
surprising to those in the room as it was to me.

Whom could she be, this elegant lady who visited such a haunt--who, it
would seem, was so anxious to disguise her identity, but who was
dressed for a society function rather than for a midnight expedition of
so unusual a character?

I began a whispered question, but Smith tugged at my arm to silence me.
His excitement was intense. Had his keener powers enabled him to
recognize the unknown?

A faint but most peculiar perfume stole to my nostrils, a perfume which
seemed to contain the very soul of Eastern mystery. Only one woman
known to me used that perfume--Karamaneh.

Then it was she!

At last my friend's vigilance had been rewarded. Eagerly I bent
forward. Smith literally quivered in anticipation of a discovery.
Again the strange perfume was wafted to our hiding-place; and, glancing
neither to right nor left, I saw Karamaneh--for that it was she I no
longer doubted--recross the room and disappear.

"The man she spoke to," hissed Smith. "We must see him! We must have
him!"

He pulled the mat aside and stepped out into the anteroom. It was
empty. Down the passage he led, and we were almost come to the door of
the big room when it was thrown open and a man came rapidly out, opened
the street door before Smith could reach him, and was gone, slamming it
fast.

I can swear that we were not four seconds behind him, but when we
gained the street it was empty. Our quarry had disappeared as if by
magic. A big car was just turning the corner towards Leicester Square.

"That is the girl," rapped Smith; "but where in Heaven's name is the
man to whom she brought the message? I would give a hundred p