ancient stone which rose sharply from the street. A high, pointed
doorway, elaborately carved, was before her, arching over a dark
wooden door heavily studded with nails. Overhead jutted the little
balconies of _mashrubiyeh_. She had no more than a swift impression
of the old façade, for immediately a doorkeeper, very vivid in his
Oriental blue robes and his English yellow leather Oxfords, flung
open the heavy door.

Stepping across the threshold, with a sudden excited quickening of
the senses, in which so many things were mingled that the misgiving
there had scarcely time to make itself felt, Arlee found herself in
a spacious vestibule, marble floored and inlaid with brilliant tile.
She had just a glimpse of an inner court between the high arches
opposite, and then her attention was claimed by Captain Kerissen,
who sprang forward with a flash of welcome in his eyes that was like
a leap of palpable light.

"You are come!" he said, in a voice which was that of a man almost
incredulous of his good fortune. Then he bowed very formally in his
best military fashion, straight-backed from the waist, heels stiffly
together. "I welcome you," he said. "My sister is rejoiced.... This
stair--if you please."

He waved to a stairway on the left, a small, steep affair, which
Arlee ascended slowly, a sense of strangeness mounting with her, in
spite of her confident bearing. She had not realized how odd it
would feel to be in this foreign house with the Captain at her
heels.

There was a door at the top of the stairs standing open into a long,