and I would find myself contemplating some sheer well of blackness,
with nausea threatening me because it had to be negotiated.

None of these gaps were more than a long stride from side to side; but
the sense of depth conveyed in the muffled voices and dimmed footsteps
from the pavements far below was almost overpowering. Indeed, I am
convinced that for my part I should never have essayed that nightmare
journey were it not that the musical voice of Karamaneh seemed to be
calling to me, her little white hands to be seeking mine, blindly, in
the darkness.

That we were close to a haunt of the dreadful Chinamen I was
persuaded; therefore my hatred and my love cooperated to lend me a
coolness and address which otherwise I must have lacked.

"Hullo!" cried Smith, who was leading--"what now?"

We had crept along the crown of a sloping roof and were confronted by
the blank wall of a building which rose a story higher than that
adjoining it. It was crowned by an iron railing, showing blackly
against the sky. I paused, breathing heavily, and seated astride that
dizzy perch. Weymouth was immediately behind me, and--

"It's the Cafe de l'Egypte, Mr. Smith!" he said, "If you'll look up,
you'll see the reflection of the lights shining through the glass roof."

Vaguely I discerned Nayland Smith rising to his feet.

"Be careful!" I said. "For God's sake don't slip!"

"Take my hand," he snapped energetically.

I stretched forward and grasped his hand. As I did so, he slid down
the slope on the right, away from the street, and hung perilously for
a moment over the very cul de sac upon which the secret door opened.

"Good!" he muttered "There is, as I had hoped, a window lighting the
top of the staircase. Ssh!--ssh!"

His grip upon my hand tightened; and there aloft, above the teemful
streets of Soho, I sat listening ... whilst very faint and muffled
footsteps sounded upon an uncarpeted stair, a door banged, and all
was silent again, save for the ceaseless turmoil far below.

"Sit tight, and catch!" rapped Smith.

Into my extended hands he swung his boots, fastened together by the
laces! Then, ere I could frame any protest, he disengaged his hand
from mine, and pressing his body close against the angle of the
building, worked his way around to the staircase window, which was
invisible from where I crouched.

"Heavens!" muttered Weymouth, close to my ear, "I can never travel
that road!"

"Nor I!" was my scarcely audib