nows I was not. My idleness in the matter was none of my
choosing. Since poor Deeping's murder I had come to handgrips
with the assassins more than once, but Hassan had proved too clever
for me, too clever for Scotland Yard. The sacred slipper was once
more in the hands of its fanatic guardian.

One man there was who might have helped the search, Earl Dexter.
But Earl Dexter was himself wanted by Scotland Yard!

From the time of the bank affair up to the moment when this
beautiful visitor had come to my chambers I had thought Dexter, as
well as Hassan, to have fled secretly from England. But the moment
that I saw Carneta at my door I divined that The Stetson Man must
still be in London.

She sat watching me and awaiting my answer.

"I cannot avenge my friend unless I can find his murderer."

Eagerly she bent forward.

"But if I can find him?"

That made me think, and I hesitated before speaking again.

"Say what you came to say," I replied slowly. "You must know that
I distrust you. Indeed, my plain duty is to detain you. But I will
listen to anything you may care to tell me, particularly if it
enables me to trap Hassan of Aleppo."

"Very well," she said, and rested her elbows upon the table before
her. "I have come to you in desperation. I can help you to find
the man who murdered Professor Deeping, but in return I want you to
help me!"

I watched her closely. She was very plainly, almost poorly, dressed.
Her face was pale and there were dark marks around her eyes. This
but served to render their strange beauty more startling; yet I
could see that my visitor was in real trouble. The situation was an
odd one.

"You are possibly about to ask me," I suggested, "to assist Earl
Dexter to escape the police?"

She shook her head. Her voice trembled as she replied--

"That would not have induced me to run the risk of coming here. I
came because I wanted to find a man who was brave enough to help me.
We have no friends in London, and so it became a question of terms.
I can repay you by helping you to trace Hassan."

"What is it, then, that Dexter asks me to do?"

"He asks nothing. I, Carneta, am asking!"

"Then you are not come from him?"

At my question, all her self-possession left her. She abruptly
dropped her face into her hands and was shaken with sobs! It was
more than I could bear, unmoved. I forgot the shady past, forgot
that she was the associate of a daring felon, and could onl