Margaret has been scaring you about Rita Irvin," he said,
"but on my word, sir, there was no need to do it."

He met Seton Pasha's cool regard, and:

"Margaret's one of the best," he added. "I know you agree with me?"

A faint suggestion of added color came into Seton's tanned cheeks.

"I do, Gray," he answered quietly. "I believe you are good enough to
look upon me as a real friend; therefore allow me to add my advice, for
what it is worth, to that of Lord Wrexborough and your cousin: take the
Egyptian appointment. I know where it will lead. You can do no good by
remaining in London; and when we find Mrs. Irvin your presence would be
an embarrassment to the unhappy man who waits for news at Prince's Gate.
I am frank, but it's my way."

He held out his hand, smiling. Quentin Gray's mercurial complexion was
changing again, but:

"Good old Seton!" he said, rather huskily, and gripped the outstretched
hand. "For Irvin's sake, save her!"

He turned to his father.

"Thank you, sir," he added, "you are always right. I shall be ready on
Tuesday. I suppose you are off again, Seton?"

"I am," was the reply. "Chief Inspector Kerry is moving heaven and earth
to find the Kazmah establishment, and I don't want to come in a poor
second."

Lord Wrexborough cleared his throat and turned in the padded revolving
chair.

"Honestly, Seton," he said, "what do you think of your chance of
success?"

Seton Pasha smiled grimly.

"Many ascribe success to wit," he replied, "and failure to bad luck; but
the Arab says 'Kismet.'"

CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE SONG OF SIN SIN WA

Mrs. Sin, aroused by her husband from the deep opium sleep, came out
into the fume-laden vault. Her dyed hair was disarranged, and her dark
eyes stared glassily before her; but even in this half-drugged state
she bore herself with the lithe carriage of a dancer, swinging her hips
lazily and pointing the toes of her high-heeled slippers.

"Awake, my wife," crooned Sin Sin Wa. "Only a fool seeks the black smoke
when the jackals sit in a ring."

Mrs. Sin gave him a glance of smiling contempt--a glance which, passing
him, rested finally upon the prone body of Chief Inspector Kerry lying
stretched upon the floor before the stove. Her pupils contracted to mere
pin-points and then dilated blackly. She recoiled a step, fighting with
the stupor which her ill-timed indulgence had left behind.

At this moment Kerry groaned loudly, tossed his arm out with a
convulsiv