eft hand would have enlightened me.

It was a _strangling-cord_!

I smiled grimly. Respecting the identity of my would-be assassin there
was little room for doubt; he was the black servant of Dr. Damar
Greefe. Now, as he passed the bright patch of roadway and began to
glide silently nearer through the shadows, I marked time with a
lighter step, the more deeply to confuse him. Of the strange Nubian
dialect I knew nothing, but taking it for granted that the man was
familiar with Arabic, I raised my voice in a mournful cry, and (in the
Arab tongue):

"Cassim! Cassim!" I wailed--"Satan is calling for you!"

I think I have never witnessed such an exhibition of panic fright as I
now beheld. Cassim was less than ten yards away--and I could hear his
teeth chattering!

"Cassim!" I cried again--"Fly! fly! Satan is here!"

A horrible tongueless babbling answered the cry. There came a
scuffling--and I saw the Nubian's gleaming body leap out into the
lighted roadway as he fled.

"Faster! faster! Cassim!" I wailed. "He is behind you! Ah! he is _in
front_!"

Cassim staggered, turned and then stood still, looking this way and
that in a perfect delirium of fear. Finally he whirled around to the
right, shrieking wildly (I think some nocturnal insect had brushed
against him), plunged babbling up the bank to the hedge and heedless
of the fact that it contained many thorns which must have cruelly
lacerated his bare body, scrambled half through it and half over it
into the plowed field beyond!

Against such an enemy there is no more potent weapon than
superstition. Nevertheless I kept my hand upon the pistol in my pocket
and proceeded at an increased pace during the latter half of my
journey; nor am I ashamed to admit that the lights of the Abbey Inn
were a welcome sight, and it was with a feeling of relief that,
leaving the highroad behind me, I found myself again in the village
street of Upper Crossleys.

What to expect next, I knew not. The other party had made a false
move, for I now had definite evidence of the antagonism of Dr. Damar
Greefe and of his intent to cause my murder through the agency of his
Nubian servant.

My plan of nocturnal operations, already sufficiently dangerous, now
promised to lead me into extreme peril. I would have given much for
the company of Gatton, but, if I must act alone--alone I would set
out. If I am slow in planning, at least I can state with truth that I
am tenacious in execution. But h