"First," I replied, "listen to the contents of an anonymous letter
which I have received."

(I remembered, and only just in time, my promise to the veiled
messenger.)

"To me," I added, having read him the note, "it seems to mean
nothing. I take it that you understand better than I do."

"I understand very well, Cavanagh!" he replied. "You will recall
my story of the scimitar which flashed before me in the darkness
of my stateroom on the Mandalay? Well, I have seen it again! I
am not an imaginative man: I had always believed myself to possess
the scientific mind; but I can no longer doubt that I am the object
of a pursuit which commenced in Mecca! The happenings on the
steamer prepared me for this, in a degree. When the man lost his
hand at Port Said I doubted. I had supposed the days of such things
past. The attempt to break into my stateroom even left me still
uncertain. But the outrage upon the steward at the docks removed
all further doubt. I perceived that the contents of a certain brown
leather case were the objective of the crimes."

I listened in growing wonder.

"It was not necessary in order to further the plan of stealing the
bag that the hands were severed," resumed the Professor. "In fact,
as was rendered evident by the case of the steward, this was a
penalty visited upon any one who touched it! You are thinking of
my own immunity?"