in position with
much secrecy after dusk, and the man on duty at the gate stood
with his back to the wall. No one could approach him except from
the front. My thoughts took a new turn.

Was the girl with the violet eyes an ally of the Hashishin? Thus
far, although she so palpably had tricked me, I had found myself
unable to speak of her to Bristol; for the idea had entered my mind
that she might have learned of the plan to murder Deeping without
directly being implicated. Now came yet another explanation. The
publicity given to that sensational case might have interested some
third party in the fate of the stolen slipper! Could it be that
others, in no way connected with the dreadful Hassan of Aleppo,
were in quest of the slipper?

Scotland Yard had taken care to ensure that the general public be
kept in ignorance of the existence of such an organization as the
Hashishin, but I must assume that this hypothetical third party
were well aware that they had Hassan, as well as the authorities,
to count with. Granting the existence of such a party, my beautiful
acquaintance might be classified as one of its members. I spoke
again.

"Bristol," I said, "has it occurred to you that there may be others,
as well as Hassan of Aleppo, seeking to gain possession of the
sacred slipper?"

"It has not," he replied. "In the strictest sense of the expression,
they would be out for trouble! What gave you the idea?"

"I hardly know," I returned evasively, for even now I was loath to
betray the mysterious girl with the wonderful eyes.

The chapel bell sounding the half-hour, Bristol rose with a sigh
that might have been one of relief, and went out to take the report
of the man on duty at the gate. As his footsteps died away along
the elm avenue, it came to me how, in the darkness about, menace
lurked; and I felt myself succumbing to the greatest dread
experienced by man--the dread of the unknown.

All that I knew of the weird group of fanatics--survivals of a dim
and evil past--who must now be watching this cottage as bloodlustful
devotees watch a shrine violated, burst upon my mind. I peopled the
still blackness with lurking assassins, armed with the murderous
knowledge of by-gone centuries, armed with invisible weapons which
struck down from afar, supernaturally.

I glanced toward the corner of the room where the safe stood,
reliquary of a worthless thing for which much blood had been spilled.

Then sounded footst