several disappearances of insignificant individuals since I have
been here. No pains were spared to find them, but no one ever obtained
the smallest trace of their fate. They were probably murdered for the
small sums of money they carried. Of course there is possibility, but I
think there is very little hope."

"But I cannot bear to think that poor Alexander should have come to
such an end," cried Paul. "I could not go away feeling that I had left
anything untried in searching for him. I never loved him, God forgive
me! But he was my brother, and my mother's favorite son. He was with me,
and by my carelessness he lost himself. Who is to tell her that? No, I
cannot go until I know what has become of him."

"My friend," said old Ananoff gently, "you have all my sympathy, and you
shall have all my help. I will myself write to your mother, if Alexander
does not return in a week. But if in a month he is not heard of, there
will be no hope at all. Then you must go away, and I will shut the
mouths of the gossips. Now go and rest, for you are exhausted. Be quite
sure that between the measures you have taken yourself and those which I
shall take, everything possible will be done."

Paul rose unsteadily to his feet, and took the count's hand. Then,
without a word, he went to his pavilion, and gave himself up to his own
agonizing thoughts.

The ambassador lost no time, for he felt how serious the case was. In
spite of the heat, he proceeded to Stamboul at once, visited Santa
Sophia, and explored every foot of the gallery whence Alexander had
disappeared, but without discovering any trace. He asked questions of
the warden of the church, the scowling Turk who had admitted the
brothers on the previous night; but the man only answered that Allah was
great, and that he knew nothing of the circumstances, having left the
two gentlemen in charge of their kavass. Then the count went to the
house of the Persian ambassador, and obtained his promise to aid in the
search by means of his army of donkey-drivers. He went in person to the
Ottoman Bank, to the chief of police, to every office through which he
could hope for any information. Returning to Buyukdere, he sent notes to
all his colleagues, informing them of what had occurred, and requesting
their assistance in searching for the lost man. At last he felt that he
had done everything in his power, and he desisted from his labors. But,
as he had said, he had small expectation of ever hear