es of native perforated brasswork.

Upon the divans some eight or nine men were seated, fully half of whom
were Orientals or half-castes. Before each stood a little inlaid table
bearing a brass tray; and upon the trays were various boxes, some
apparently containing sweetmeats, other cigarettes. One or two of the
visitors smoked curious, long-stemmed pipes and sipped coffee.

Even as I leaned from the platform, surveying that incredible scene
(incredible in a street of Soho), another devotee of hashish entered--
a tall, distinguished-looking man, wearing a light coat over his
evening dress.

"Gad!" whispered Smith, beside me--"Sir Byngham Pyne of the India
Office! You see, Petrie! You see! This place is a lure. My God! ..."

He broke off, as I clutched wildly at his arm.

The last arrival having taken his seat in a corner of the divan, two
heavy curtains draped before an opening at one end of the room parted,
and a girl came out, carrying a tray such as already reposed before
each of the other men in the room.

She wore a dress of dark lilac-colored gauze, banded about with gold
tissue and embroidered with gold thread and pearls; and around her
shoulders floated, so ethereally that she seemed to move in a violet
cloud; a scarf of Delhi muslin. A white yashmak trimmed with gold
tissue concealed the lower part of her face.

My heart throbbed wildly; I seemed to be choking. By the wonderful
hair alone I must have known her, by the great, brilliant eyes, by
the shape of those slim white ankles, by every movement of that
exquisite form. It was Karamaneh!

I sprang madly back from the rail ... and Smith had my arm in an iron
grip.

"Where are you going?" he snapped.

"Where am I going?" I cried. "Do you think--"

"What do you propose to do?" he interrupted harshly. "Do you know so
little of the resources of Dr. Fu-Manchu that you would throw yourself
blindly into that den? Damn it all, man! I know what you suffer!--but
wait--wait. We must not act rashly; our plans must be well considered."

He drew me back to my former post and clapped his hand on my shoulder
sympathetically. Clutching the rail like a man frenzied, as indeed I
was, I looked down into that infamous den again, striving hard for
composure.

Karamaneh listlessly placed the tray upon the little table before Sir
Byngham Pyne and withdrew without vouchsafing him a single glance in
acknowledgment of his unconcealed admiration.

A moment later, above