defeat in it. But it is full of a cruel irony that brings to mind a
vision of one of those old medieval flagellant priests reviewing his
sins before thrashing his own body with a wire whip.

"So that ends that," he said at last, with the gesture of a man who
sweeps the pieces from a board, to set them up anew and start again.
"Luckily we're not the only fools in Asia. Those six rascals know now
that Mabel and we are one party."

"Pooh!" sneered Jeremy. "What can the devils do?"

"Not much this side of the border at Deraa," Grim answered. "After Deraa
pretty well what they're minded. They could have us pinched on some
trumped-up charge, in which case we'd be searched, Mabel included. No.
We've played too long on the defensive. Deraa is the danger-point. The
telegraph line is cut there, and all messages going north or south have
to be carried by hand across the border. The French have an agent there
who censors everything. He's the boy we've got to fool. If they appeal
to him this train will go on without us.

"Ramsden, you and Narayan Singh go and sit with Mabel in her
compartment. Jeremy, you go forward and bring Yussuf Dakmar back here
to me; we'll let him have that fake letter just before we reach Deraa,
taking care somehow to let the other five know he has it. They won't
discover it's a fake until after leaving Deraa--"

"Why not?" I interrupted. "What's to prevent their opening it at once?"


"Two good reasons: for one, we'll have Narayan Singh keep a careful eye