Narayan Singh had orders not to do anything but guard Grim against
assault, for Grim judged it wise to leave Yussuf Dakmar at large than to
precipitate a climax by arresting him. He had the names of most of the
local conspirators, and if the leader were seized too soon the equally
dangerous rank and file might scatter and escape.

Down inside the Jaffa Gate, in a dark alley beside the Grand Hotel,
there are usually two or three cabs standing at any hour of the night
ready to care for belated Christian gentlemen who have looked on the
wine when it was any colour that it chanced to be. There were three
there, and Grim took the first one, flourishing his envelope carelessly
under the corner lamp.

Yussuf Dakmar took the next in line, and ordered the driver to follow
Grim. So we naturally took the last one, all three of us crowding on to
the rear seat in order to watch the cabs in front. But as soon as we had
driven back outside the city gate Yussuf Dakmar looked behind him and,
growing suspicious of us, ordered his driver to let us pass.

It would have been too obvious if we had stopped too, so we hid our
faces as we passed, and then put Jeremy on the front seat, he looking
like an Arab and being most unrecognizable. Yussuf Dakmar followed us
at long range, and as the lean horses toiled slowly up the Mount of
Olives to headquarters the interval between the cabs grew greater. By
the time we reached the guard-house and answered the Sikh sentry's
challenge there was no sign of Grim in front, and we could only hear in
the distance behind us the occasional click of a loose shoe to tell that
Yussuf Dakmar was still following.