w, before you go," said the Turk, "I will give you a hint. The
slightest scratch will suffice, as you see."

"Yes."

"Dip two ordinary pins in the poison, and send them by letter to your
enemy. Place them so that in opening the envelope, he will probably
scratch his finger."

The Englishman's eyes sparkled viciously.

"I will, I will."

"Let me know the result, and should you want my aid, you will note well
the house on leaving so as to know where to return."

"Yes. What is your name?" demanded the Englishman.

"Hadji Nasir Ali," was the reply; "and yours?"

The other hesitated.

"Don't give it unless you feel it is safe," said the Turk.

"There's no harm in your knowing it," returned the Englishman. "My name
is Harkaway."

"Hark-a-way?"

"In one word."

"I see. Farewell, then."

"Farewell."

And the interview was concluded.

* * * *

"That letter is a splendid dodge. Look out, Master Jack Harkaway, look
out, for I mean to cry quits now, or my name is not Herbert Murray,"
muttered the Englishman, as he walked away.

But how Herbert Murray had got to Turkey requires some explanation.

It will be within our readers' recollection that after his unsuccessful
attempt on Chivey's life, and the adventure of the groom with the old
Spaniard, Murray found himself on board the same ship as his groom.

He resolved to make the best of this circumstance, as it could not now
be altered.

A few days after leaving the Spanish coast they put into one of the
Mediterranean ports, and there heard that young Jack and his friends
had gone on to Turkey.

"I'll follow them!" exclaimed Murray. "I can do as I like now the
governor's gone and I've plenty of tin, so look out for yourself, Jack
Harkaway."

Murray's ship was delayed by adverse weather, but at length reached
port, and Herbert had scarcely put foot on shore, when he beheld young
Jack, the object of his deadly hate, walking coolly down the street
smoking a cigar.

This so enraged Murray that he hastened to disguise himself in Oriental
attire, and then made the attempt on Jack's life which we have related.

* * * *

That same night a man was found dead on the threshold of the house in
which Jack Harkaway and his friends resided.

How he had died no one could imagine, for he had not a scratch on his
body.

Yet, stay.

There was a scratch.

Just that and no m