spoke to him. When I have talked the matter over with him I will tell
you what I think about it. Let us go to dinner."

I felt that I had overcome the first great difficulty in persuading
Balsamides to take some interest in my errand. He is one of those men
who are very hard to move, but who, when once they are disposed to act
at all, are ready to do their best. Moreover, the existence of the
second staircase, leading from the gallery to the street, at once
explained how Alexander might have left the church unobserved by the
coachman. I wondered why no one had thought of this. It had probably not
suggested itself to any one, because strangers are never admitted from
that side, and because the door is almost always closed.

Gregorios did not refer to the subject again that evening, but amused
himself by asking me all manner of questions about the state of England.
We fell to talking about European politics, and the hours passed very
pleasantly until midnight.

On the next day I went to see Paul, and told him the result of my first
step. He appeared very grateful.

"It seems hard that my life should be ruined by this thing," he said
wearily. "Any prospect of news is delightful, however small. I am under
a sort of curse,--as much as though I had really had something to do
with poor Alexander's death. It comes up in all sorts of ways. Unless we
can solve the mystery, I shall never be really free."

"We will solve it," I said, in order to reassure him. "Nothing shall be
left undone, and I hope that in a few weeks you may feel relieved from
all this anxiety."

"It is more than anxiety; it is pain," he answered. I supposed that he
was thinking of Hermione, and was silent. Presently he proposed to go
out. It was a fine day in February, though the snow was on the ground
and filled the ruts in the pavement of the Grande Rue de Pera. Every one
was wrapped in furs and every one wore overshoes, without which it is
impossible to go out in winter in Constantinople. The streets were
crowded with that strange multitude seen nowhere else in the world; the
shops were full of people of all sorts, from the ladies of the embassies
to the veiled Turkish ladies, who have small respect for the regulation
forbidding them to buy in Frank establishments. At Galata Serai the huge
Kurdish hamals loitered in the sun, waiting for a job, their ropes and
the heavy pillows on which they carry their burdens lying at their feet.
The lean dogs sat up