o still his apprehension.

Nur-el-Din lay on her side, one hand under her face which was
turned away from the fire. She was wearing a big black musquash
coat, and over her feet she had flung a tweed overcoat,
apparently one of Mr. Bellward's from the hatstand in the hall.
Her hat, a very dainty little affair of plain black velvet, was
skewered with a couple of jewelled hatpins to the upholstery of
the settee.

Desmond watched her for a moment. Her face looked drawn and tired
now that her eyelids, with their long sweeping black lashes, were
closed, shutting off the extraordinary luminosity of her eyes. As
he stood silently contemplating her, she stirred and moaned in
her sleep and muttered some word three or four times to herself.
Desmond was conscious of a great feeling of compassion for this
strangely beautiful creature. Knowing as he did of the
hundred-eyed monster of the British Secret Service that was
watching her, he found himself thinking how frail, how helpless,
how unprotected she looked, lying there in the flickering light
of the fire.

A step resounded behind him and old Martha shuffled into the
room, carefully shading the lamp she still carried so that its
rays should not fall on the face of the sleeper.

"I don't know as I've done right, sir," she mumbled, "letting the
pore lady wait here for you like this, but I couldn't hardly help
it, sir! She says as how she must see you, and seeing as how your
first tellygram said you was coming at half-past nine, I lets her
stop on!"

"When did she arrive" asked Desmond softly.

"About six o'clock," answered the old, woman. "Walked all the way
up from Wentfield Station, too, sir, and that cold she was when
she arrived here, fair blue with the cold she was, pore dear.
D'reckly she open her lips, I sees she's a furrin' lady, sir. She
asks after you and I tells her as how you are away and won't be
back till this evening. 'Oh!' she says, I then I wait!' And in
she comes without so much as with your leave or by your leave.
She told me as how you knew her, sir, and were expecting to see
her, most important, she said it was, so I hots her up a bit o'
dinner. I hopes as how I didn't do wrong, Mr. Bellward, sir!"

"Oh, no, Martha, not at all!" Desmond replied--at random. He was
sorely perplexed as to his next move. Obviously the girl could
not stay in the house. What on earth did she want with him? And
could he, at any rate, get at the desk and read the papers of
wh