eing out of sympathy with most of what they represent.

He was cordial enough--after one swift glance around the room.

"Brought a new acquaintance for you," said Grim, introducing
me. "I've told him how all the subalterns come to you for
Palestinian lore--"

"Ach! The young Lotharios! Each man a Don Juan! All they come
to me for is tales of Turkish harems, of which I know no more
than any one. They are not interested in subjects of real
importance. 'How many wives had Djemal Pasha? How many of them
were European?' That is what they ask me. When I discuss
ancient history it is only about King Solomon's harem that they
care to know; or possibly about the modern dancing girls of El-
Kerak, who are all spies. But there is no need to inform you as
to that. Eh? I haven't seen you for a long time, Major Grim.
What have you been doing?"

"Nothing much. I was at the Tomb of the Kings yesterday."

Scharnhoff smiled scornfully.

"Now you must have some whiskey to take the taste of that untruth
out of your mouth! How can a man of your attainments call that
obviously modern fraud by such a name? The place is not nearly
two thousand years old! It is probably the tomb of a Syrian
queen named Adiabene and her family. Josephus mentions it. This
land is full--every square metre of it--of false antiquities with
real names, and real antiquities that never have been discovered!
But why should a man like you, Major Grim, lend yourself to
perpetuating falsity?"

He walked over to the cupboard to get whiskey, and from where we
sat we could both of us see what he was doing. The cupboard was
in two parts, top and bottom, without any intervening strip of
wood between the doors, which fitted tightly. When he opened the
top part the lower door opened with it. He kicked it shut again
at once, but I had seen inside--not that it was interesting at
the moment.

He set whiskey and tumblers on the desk, poured liberally, and
went on talking.

"Tomb of the Kings? Hah! Tomb of the Kings of Judah? Hah! If
any one can find that, he will have something more important than
Ludendorff's memoirs! Something merkwurdig, believe me!"

He stiffened suddenly, and looked at Grim through the green
goggles as if he were judging an antiquity.

"Perhaps this is not the time to make you a little suggestion, eh?"

Grim's face wrinkled into smiles.

"This man knows enough to hang me anyhow! Fire away!"

"Ah! But I would not l