with fear. Without for an instant regarding it, the two men
fastened their eyes upon the visitor. The hand of the Jew dropped
quickly from his beard, and slid to the inside pocket of his coat.
With eyes apparently unseeing, Ford noted the movement.

"He carries a gun," was his mental comment, "and he seems perfectly
willing to use it." Aloud, he said: "That, I suppose is one of
them?"

Prothero nodded gravely, and turned to Pearsall. "Will you attend
her?" he asked.

As Pearsall rose and left the room, Prothero rose also.

"You will come with me," he directed, "and I will see you settle in
your apartment. Your bag has arrived and is already there."

The room to which the Jew led him was the front one on the second
story. It was in no way in keeping with a sanatorium, or a
rest-cure. The walls were hidden by dark blue hangings, in which
sparkled tiny mirrors, the floor was covered with Turkish rugs, the
lights concealed inside lamps of dull brass bedecked with crimson
tassels. In the air were the odors of stale tobacco-smoke, of cheap
incense, and the sickly, sweet smell of opium. To Ford the place
suggested a cigar-divan rather than a bedroom, and he guessed,
correctly, that when Prothero had played at palmistry and
clairvoyance this had been the place where he received his dupes.
But the American expressed himself pleased with his surroundings,
and while Prothero remained in the room, busied himself with
unpacking his bag.