e, effendi. Sit beside me."

I complied. Ben Hamza took the place of Ahmed, who went to the
rear looking rather pleased to get out of the limelight.

"What else says Jimgrim?" asked Anazeh.

"There will be a message presently, providing Sheikh Anazeh
keeps sober!"

To say that I was enjoying the game by this time is like trying
to paint heaven with a tar-brush. You've got to be on the inside
of an intrigue before you can appreciate the thrill of it.
Nobody who has not had the chance to mystify a leader of cheerful
murderers in a city packed with conspirators, with the shadow of
a vulture on the road in front, and fanged death waiting to be
let loose, need talk to me of excitement.

"Well and good," said Anazeh. "When Jimgrim speaks, I listen!"

Can you beat that? Have you ever dreamed you were possessed of
some magic formula like "Open Sesame," and free to work with it
any miracle you choose? Was the dream good? I was awake--on a
horse--in a real eastern alley--with twenty thieves as picturesque
as Ali Baba's, itching for action behind me!

"Abdul Ali of Damascus thinks he will enter the mejlis last and
create a great sensation," said Anazeh. "That son of infamies
deceives himself. I shall enter last. I shall bring you. There
will be no doubt who is important!"

Just as he spoke there clattered down the street at right angles
to us a regular cavalcade of horsemen led by no less than Abdul
Ali with a sycophant on either hand. Cardinal Wolsey, or some
other wisehead, once remarked that a king is known by the
splendour of his servants. Abdul Ali's parasites were dressed
for their part in rose-coloured silk and mounted on beautiful
white Arab horses so severely bitted that they could not help
but prance.

Abdul Ali, on the other hand, played more a king-maker's role,
dark and sinister in contrast to their finery, on a dark brown
horse that trotted in a business-like, hurry-up-and-get-it-done-
with manner. He rode in the German military style, and if you
can imagine the Kaiser in Arab military head-dress, with high
black riding boots showing under a brown cloak, you have his
description fairly closely. The upturned moustaches and the
scowl increased the suggestion, and I think that was deliberate.

"A dog--offspring of dogs! Curse his religion and his bed!"
growled Anazeh in my ear.

The old sheikh allowed his enemy plenty of time. To judge by the
way the men behind us gathered up their reins