Desmond felt strangely moved. Was this a callous murderess, a
hired spy, who, with her great eyes brimming over with tears,
entreated his protection so simply, so appealingly?

"I promise I will not give you up to him, Mademoiselle!" he said
and hated himself in the same breath for the part he had to play.
Then he left her still standing by the table, lost in thought.

Desmond walked through the hall to the room in which he had found
Nur-el-Din asleep on his arrival. His nerves were strung up tight
for the impending encounter with this Mortimer, whoever, whatever
he was. Desmond did not hesitate on the threshold of the room. He
quietly opened the door and walked in.

A man in a black and white check suit with white gaiters stood on
the hearthrug, his hands tucked behind his back. He had a
curiously young-old appearance, such as is found in professors
and scientists of a certain type. This suggestion was probably
heightened by the very strong spectacles he wore, which magnified
his eyes until they looked like large colored marbles. He had a
heavy curling moustache resembling that affected by the late Lord
Randolph Churchill. There was a good deal of mud on his boots,
showing that he had come on foot.

The two men measured one another in a brief but courteous glance.
Desmond wondered what on earth this man's profession was. He was
quite unable to place him.

"Mr. Bellward?" said Mortimer, in a pleasant cultivated voice, "I
am pleased to have this opportunity of meeting you personally."

Desmond bowed and muttered something conventional. Mortimer had
put out his hand but Desmond could not nerve himself to take it.
Instead he pushed forward a chair.

"Thanks," said Mortimer sitting down heavily, "I've had quite a
walk across the fen. It's pleasant out but damp! I suppose you
didn't get my letter?"

"Which letter was that" asked Desmond.

"Why the one asking you to let me know when you would be back so
that we might meet at last!"

Desmond shook his head.

"No," he said, "I didn't get that one. It must have gone astray.
As a matter of fact," he added, "I only got back this morning."

"Oh, well then, I am fortunate in my visit," said Mortimer. "Did
everything go off all right?"

"Oh, yes," Desmond hastened to say, not knowing what he was
talking about, "everything went off all right."

"I don't in the least grudge you the holiday," the other
observed, "one should always be careful to pay the last respect