nd despises liars and
boasters and betrayers of their salt.'

That was the verdict of one honest man on this ruler in Israel. The
next night I got another from Blenkiron on a greater than Enver. He had
been out alone and had come back pretty late, with his face grey and
drawn with pain. The food we ate--not at all bad of its kind--and the
cold east wind played havoc with his dyspepsia. I can see him yet,
boiling milk on a spirit-lamp, while Peter worked at a Primus stove to
get him a hot-water bottle. He was using horrid language about his
inside.

'My God, Major, if I were you with a sound stomach I'd fairly conquer
the world. As it is, I've got to do my work with half my mind, while
the other half is dwelling in my intestines. I'm like the child in the
Bible that had a fox gnawing at its vitals.'

He got his milk boiling and began to sip it.

'I've been to see our pretty landlady,' he said. 'She sent for me and
I hobbled off with a grip full of plans, for she's mighty set on
Mesopotamy.'

'Anything about Greenmantle?' I asked eagerly.

'Why, no, but I have reached one conclusion. I opine that the hapless
prophet has no sort of time with that lady. I opine that he will soon
wish himself in Paradise. For if Almighty God ever created a female
devil it's Madame von Einem.'

He sipped a little more milk with a grave face.

'That isn't my duodenal dyspepsia, Major. It's the verdict of a ripe
experience, for I have a cool and penetrating judgement, even if I've a
deranged stomach. And I give it as my considered conclusion that that
woman's mad and bad--but principally bad.'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Lady of the Mantilla

Since that first night I had never clapped eyes on Sandy. He had gone
clean out of the world, and Blenkiron and I waited anxiously for a word
of news. Our own business was in good trim, for we were presently
going east towards Mesopotamia, but unless we learned more about
Greenmantle our journey would be a grotesque failure. And learn about
Greenmantle we could not, for nobody by word or deed suggested his
existence, and it was impossible of course for us to ask questions.
Our only hope was Sandy, for what we wanted to know was the prophet's
whereabouts and his plans. I suggested to Blenkiron that we might do
more to cultivate Frau von Einem, but he shut his jaw like a rat-trap.

'There's nothing doing for us in that quarter,' he said. 'That's the
most dangerous woman on earth