use. Why Hassan should have remained
behind, unless from fanatic lust of killing, I could not imagine.

When at last the fresher night air had its effect, and Carneta
opened her eyes, I led her to the gates, nor did she offer the
slightest resistance, but looked dully before her, muttering over
and over again, "Earl, Earl!"

The gates were open; we passed out on to the open road. No man
pursued us, and the night was gravely still.

CHAPTER XXXII

SIX GRAY PATCHES

When the invitation came from my old friend Hilton to spend a week
"roughing it" with him in Warwickshire I accepted with alacrity.
If ever a man needed a holiday I was that man. Nervous breakdown
threatened me at any moment; the ghastly experience at the Gate
House together with Carneta's grief-stricken face when I had
parted from her were obsessing memories which I sought in vain to
shake off.

A brief wire had contained the welcome invitation, and up to the
time when I had received it I had been unaware that Hilton was
back in England. Moreover, beyond the fact that his house,
"Uplands," was near H--, for which I was instructed to change at
New Street Station, Birmingham, I had little idea of its location.
But he added "Wire train and will meet at H--"; so that I had no
uneasiness on that score.

I had contemplated catching the 2:45 from Euston, but by the time
I had got my work into something like order, I decided that the
6:55 would be more suitable and decided to dine on the train.

Altogether, there was something of a rush and hustle attendant upon
getting away, and when at last I found myself in the cab, bound for
Euston, I sat back with a long-drawn sigh. The quest of the Prophet's
slipper was ended; in all probability that blood-stained relic was
already Eastward bound. Hassan of Aleppo, its awful guardian, had
triumphed and had escaped retribution. Earl Dexter was dead. I
could not doubt that; for the memory of his beautiful accomplice,
Carneta, as I last had seen her, broken-hearted, with her great
violet eyes dulled in tearless agony--have I not said that it lived
with me?

Even as the picture of her lovely, pale face presented itself to my
mind, the cab was held up by a temporary block in the traffic--and
my imagination played me a strange trick.

Another taxi ran close alongside, almost at the moment that the
press of vehicles moved on again. Certainly, I had no more than a
passing glimpse of the occupants; but I