pursuing his thought, "You sent a note to the Hotel
Europa?"

"Yes--" she stammered, "this afternoon. I asked you to come
here--tonight at twelve. You received it?"

"No. It was intercepted."

"I don't understand."

He laughed. "I don't wonder. It's the luckiest thing in the world that
I've found you."

He kissed her again, and then quickly, "The Harim is--where?"

She pointed to the door with the grille, and he regarded it with a new
interest. In the silence that followed, they heard again the murmur of
voices, a woman's and a man's.

"Zubeydeh!" she whispered. "The woman here and--a man's voice."

"We must find a way out quickly. They may come around this way."

He noticed the door upon the other side of the room.

"Where does that lead?"

"To the _selamlik_, I think. But it is better to go by the window. I can
climb. Let us go."

He shook his head.

"It's dangerous. The stairs----"

"It is dark below. I don't know where they lead."

"To the garden. They must. The door is locked on the inside, but perhaps
there's another exit at the rear. Come."

He drew his revolver from his belt, and taking her by the hand, led her
to the stair, and there they stopped, for Marishka clutched his arm in
sudden consternation. From the Harim came a sudden muffled noise--as
though some one were beating upon a carpet.

"Shots!" whispered Renwick. "We must hurry."

"Shots! What does it mean?"

"I'll explain later. Hurry!"

There were cries now--the shriek of a woman, and above all, a hoarse
bellow as of some enraged animal. Renwick had already descended a few
steps, Marishka following him, when the door to the _selamlik_ opened,
and a female figure clad in Marishka's silk drapery rushed forth. It was
Yeva.

"Fraeulein----" she whispered in awed tones to Marishka. "Forgive me!"
she pleaded. "I have seen. It was beautiful. I could not see harm come
to you. His Excellency has been in the street at the back of the house,
but when the fighting began came up the rear stairway of the
_selamlik_----"

"Goritz!" stammered Marishka in terror.

"But I have locked the upper door."

"He will come here, Yeva!"

"Excellency must go--if there is yet time."

"The garden!"

"No," said Renwick, looking about for a place of concealment. "I shall
stay."

"It is death----" whispered Marishka.

But Yeva was resourceful. "The armor!" she whispered. "I have often
hidden in it from Zubeydeh. Quickly, Excellency! It stands u