ttered a low exclamation of surprise. Paul turned
his head to repeat his question, and saw that Alexander was no longer in
the place where he had been standing. He was nowhere to be seen.

"He is gone round the gallery alone," said Paul to the kavass, and
leading the way he went to the end of the balcony, and turning in the
shadow looked down the long gallery which runs parallel with the nave.
Alexander was not in sight, and Paul, supposing him to be hidden behind
one of the heavy pillars which divided the balustrade into equal
portions, walked rapidly to the end. But his brother was not there.

"Bah!" Paul exclaimed to the kavass, "he is on the other side." He
looked attentively at the opposite balconies, across the brilliantly
lighted church, but saw no one. He and the soldier retraced their steps,
and explored every corner of the galleries, without success. The kavass
was pale to the lips.

"He is gone down alone," he muttered, hastening to the head of the
winding stair in the northwest corner of the dim gallery. He had left
his lantern by the door, but it was not there. Alexander must have taken
it with him. The Turk with the keys and the taper had long since gone
down, in expectation of some other Frank visitors, but as yet none had
appeared. Paul breathed hard, for he knew that a stranger could not with
safety descend alone, on such a night, to the vestibule of the mosque,
filled as it was with turbaned Mussulmans who had not found room in the
interior, and who were pursuing their devotions before the great open
doors. On the other hand, if Alexander had not entered the vestibule, he
must have gone out into the street, where he would not be much safer,
for his hat proclaimed him a Frank to every party of strolling Turks he
chanced to meet.

Paul lit a wax taper from his case, and, holding others in readiness,
began to follow the rugged descent, the kavass close at his elbow. It
seemed interminable. At every deep embrasure Paul paused, searching the
recess by the flickering glare of the match, and then, finding nothing,
both men went on. At last they reached the bottom, and the heavy door
creaked as the kavass pressed it back.

"You must stay here," he said, in his broken jargon. "Or, better still,
you should go outside with me and get into the carriage. I will come
back and search."

"No," said Paul. "I will go with you. I am not afraid of them."

"You cannot," answered the kavass firmly. "I cannot protect