s, even in times
of great excitement; and when he returned to Constantinople, his chief
had expressed the hope that Paul would not shut himself up, but would go
everywhere, as he had formerly done.

"This thing is beginning to interest me, Griggs," said Gregorios,
arching his eyebrows, and looking at me with a peculiar expression. "You
are doing more than I am, and I will not bear it," he added, with a
laugh. "What is my little bit of evidence about the staircase in Santa
Sophia compared to your discovery of the watch? I believe that in the
end Marchetto will be the _deus ex machina_ who will pull us out of all
our difficulties. I believe, too, that the best thing to do is to
confide the matter to him. I will go and see him to-morrow."

"He will never break his oath to the Lala," I answered.

"Perhaps not. But he has only sworn that he will not tell his name. He
has not sworn that he will not let me see him. So the fellow goes to
Yeni Koej on Thursday. Then he probably lives there, and chooses that day
to come to Stamboul. You have seen him going home. If he goes to
Stamboul, he most likely visits the bazaar early in the morning. If so,
I will catch him to-morrow, and to-morrow night I will tell you whether
he is the man or not. I will come upon Marchetto by accident, and he
will of course want to show me the Rhodes tapestry; then I will spend
the whole morning over the bargain, and I shall not miss the Lala if he
comes."

Balsamides was evidently fully roused, and as we smoked a last cigarette
in his rooms that night he talked enthusiastically of what he hoped to
accomplish on the next day. He kept his word, and very early in the
morning I heard him go out. From the sound of his walk I could tell that
he had no spurs, and was therefore in civilian's dress. He told me
afterwards what occurred.

At half past eight o'clock he was drinking a cup of coffee in
Marchetto's shop in the bazaar, and the Jew was displaying his tapestry,
and swearing that it was birindji, first quality. Balsamides wanted to
produce the impression that he intended to make a bargain.

"Kaldyr! Take it away!" he exclaimed. "It is rubbish."

Marchetto held the stuff up over his customer's head so that the light
from the little dome could fall upon it.

"There is not a hole in the whole length of it," he cried
enthusiastically. "It is perfect; not a thread loose. Examine it; is
there a patch? By my head, if you can find such another piece I wi