pon brackets
in the wall."

And while Marishka watched the stairhead in terror, Yeva helped the
Englishman into this strange place of concealment. Excited as Yeva was
at her share in the affair, her fingers were nimble, and she buckled the
straps quickly, then turning fled into the _selamlik_ and unlocked the
door. But Goritz by this time had managed to find a way to the stairs to
the _mabein_, and came up stealthily, listening eagerly to the
increasing commotion in the Harim. He found Marishka and Yeva hand in
hand at the door to the _selamlik_ staring in consternation at the door
of the black grille. There were no more shots, but more ominous even
than shots were the sounds of voices, strained, subdued, tense with
effort--the heavy breathing of men, the crashing of furniture, and then
at last the jar of heavy bodies falling--a cry of triumph--and silence.

Captain Goritz had folded his arms and waited expectant.

"It is very strange," he said coolly to Yeva. "Someone has broken into
the Harim?"

"Excellency, I do not know. I was at the other end of the house. The
Fraeulein was frightened and called to me," she lied glibly.

"It is not to be wondered at----" he said with a strange smile. "They
have made enough noise to raise the dead. I have a pardonable curiosity
as to what has happened." But as he strode toward the door and laid a
hand upon the knob, Yeva rushed forward.

"Excellency!" she whispered. "You dare not! The law!"

He looked at her for a moment, then shrugged and turned to Marishka.

"I would suggest, Countess Strahni, that you go with this girl at once
into the _selamlik_. I have no idea of what has happened, but it must be
something quite disagreeable--an intruder within the Harim--the penalty
is severe----"

Marishka was leaning against the rail of the stairway near the suit of
armor, and Goritz watched her curiously.

"I--shall not go," she stammered faintly, wondering at the growing
mystery.

He shrugged. "As you please," he muttered, "but I warn you that the
situation may be--unpleasant----"

"I shall remain--" she said again.

There were sounds of heavy footsteps, and the door of the _dutap_ swung
open, revealing the Beg of Rataj, torn and dishevelled, his face
distorted with passion. He paused in the doorway, and looked from Goritz
to Marishka, breathing rapidly.

"Ah, Excellency," he gasped. "I call you all to witness. A man has
entered the Harim--a Christian. Yeva, I knew, was n