, and Hugh----

The bell of the cathedral tolled, and fearfully she counted its strokes.
It was twelve o'clock.

CHAPTER XVII

THE MAN IN ARMOR

Renwick waited in his place of concealment near the blue door, listening
and watching eagerly. Something was happening in the house with the
_meshrebiya_ windows, for it was after midnight, and all Islam was
asleep. There were sounds of whispering again, but when he peered out
there was no one in sight. Then he thought he heard footsteps; but
whether they came from the direction of the house of the lighted window,
or whether from up the street he could not yet decide. Now he was sure
of them. Someone was approaching over the rough cobbles--from the alley
behind him! He crouched into a place of concealment behind a broken
lattice, flattening himself against the door, and waited--breathless. He
did not dare to look out, for the figure was almost upon him, but the
footsteps now silent, now moving rapidly forward, indicated the stealth
of a man who evades pursuit or fears detection. Presently a shadow
loomed beside him as a man paused for a moment beside the doorway where
Renwick stood, so close that the Englishman could hear his breathing,
and then moved on to the corner of the wider street a few feet away.
Even yet, Renwick feared to move, but at last, as the man went on toward
the wall of the blue door, Renwick risked detection, and peered out.

The figure glanced at the blue door, and then turning quickly, went with
long strides down the street toward the house with the _meshrebiya_
windows. Renwick's glance had been but a momentary one, but in it he had
marked a huge figure, in a squarish hat and ill-fitting clothes. Gustav
Linke! In his hand, clutched like a weapon, he still carried his
atrocious umbrella. A grotesque outlandish figure, an ink-blot on the
velvet night! What was he doing here near the house of the lighted
windows? Renwick sprang from his place of concealment, whispering
Linke's name; but when he reached the corner of the alley the man was
twenty paces away, and so bent upon his mission that he heard nothing.
Renwick halted instinctively, and in the moment of hesitation, his
opportunity was lost. As wisdom had urged caution while Renwick had
waited, so doubly it urged it now. Linke moved like a man with a
mission, and Renwick peered forth from the angle of the wall watching
eagerly, sure now of what that mission was--the pursuit of Marishka
Strahn