ly. "They might prove useful, some
day."

A bell rang; and from Ferrara's attitude it occurred to Cairn that he
was expecting a visitor.

"I must be off," he said accordingly.

And indeed he was conscious of a craving for the cool and
comparatively clean air of Piccadilly. He knew something of the great
evil which dwelt within this man whom he was compelled, by singular
circumstances, to tolerate. But the duty began to irk.

"If you must," was the reply. "Of course, your press work no doubt is
very exacting."

The note of badinage was discernible again, but Cairn passed out into
the _mandarah_ without replying, where the fountain plashed coolly and
the silver _mibkharah_ sent up its pencils of vapour. The outer door
was opened by the Oriental servant, and Ferrara stood and bowed to his
departing visitor. He did not proffer his hand.

"Until our next meeting. Cairn, _es-selam aleykum_!" (peace be with
you) he murmured, "as the Moslems say. But indeed I shall be with you
in spirit, dear Cairn."

There was something in the tone wherein he spoke those last words that
brought Cairn up short. He turned, but the doors closed silently. A
faint breath of ambergris was borne to his nostrils.

CHAPTER V

THE RUSTLING SHADOWS

Cairn stepped out of the lift, crossed the hall, and was about to walk
out on to Piccadilly, when he stopped, staring hard at a taxi-cab
which had slowed down upon the opposite side whilst the driver awaited
a suitable opportunity to pull across.

The occupant of the cab was invisible now, but a moment before Cairn
had had a glimpse of her as she glanced out, apparently towards the
very doorway in which he stood. Perhaps his imagination was playing
him tricks. He stood and waited, until at last the cab drew up within
a few yards of him.

Myra Duquesne got out.

Having paid the cabman, she crossed the pavement and entered the
hall-way. Cairn stepped forward so that she almost ran into his arms.

"Mr. Cairn!" she cried. "Why! have you been to see Antony?"

"I have," he replied, and paused, at a loss for words.

It had suddenly occurred to him that Antony Ferrara and Myra Duquesne
had known one another from childhood; that the girl probably regarded
Ferrara in the light of a brother.

"There are so many things I want to talk to him about," she said. "He
seems to know everything, and I am afraid I know very little."

Cairn noted with dismay the shadows under her eyes--the grey eyes