of
the night. I stifled a cry of surprise, not unmingled with gladness.

It was Aziz--the brother of Karamaneh!

Never could the entrance of a figure upon the stage of a drama have been
more dramatic than the coming of Aziz upon this night of all nights.
I seized the outstretched hand and drew him forward, then reclosed the
door and stood before him a moment in doubt.

A vaguely troubled look momentarily crossed the handsome face; with
the Oriental's unerring instinct, he had detected the reserve of my
greeting. Yet, when I thought of the treachery of Karamaneh, when I
remember how she, whom we had befriended, whom we had rescued from the
house of Fu-Manchu, now had turned like the beautiful viper that she was
to strike at the hand that caressed her; when I thought how to-night we
were set upon raiding the place where the evil Chinese doctor lurked in
hiding, were set upon the arrest of that malignant genius and of all his
creatures, Karamaneh amongst them, is it strange that I hesitated? Yet,
again, when I thought of my last meeting with her, and of how, twice,
she had risked her life to save me...

So, avoiding the gaze of the lad, I took his arm, and in silence we two
ascended the stairs and entered my study... where Nayland Smith stood
bolt upright beside the table, his steely eyes fixed upon the face of
the new arrival.

No look of recognition crossed the bronzed features, and Aziz who had
started forward with outstretched hands, fell back a step and looked
pathetically from me to Nayland Smith, and from the grim commissioner
back again to me. The appeal in the velvet eyes was more than I could
tolerate, unmoved.

"Smith," I said shortly, "you remember Aziz?"

Not a muscle visibly moved in Smith's face, as he snapped back:

"I remember him perfectly."

"He has come, I think, to seek our assistance."

"Yes, yes!" cried Aziz laying his hand upon my arm with a gesture
painfully reminiscent of Karamaneh--"I came only to-night to London. Oh,
my gentlemen! I have searched, and searched, and searched, until I
am weary. Often I have wished to die. And then at last I come to
Rangoon..."

"To Rangoon!" snapped Smith, still with the gray eyes fixed almost
fiercely upon the lad's face.

"To Rangoon--yes; and there I heard news at last. I hear that you have
seen her--have seen Karamaneh--that you are back in London." He was not
entirely at home with his English. "I know then that she must be here,
too. I ask th