near the hospital where the injured man lay; but he had taken the alarm
and departed without inquiring for the invalid's health; or else his
being in that neighbourhood was a coincidence. The name of the man
knifed was Burke, and London was given as his address. He was between
thirty-five and forty, and according to the arrested dragoman was "not
a gentleman, but a tourist." His hurt was not severe: and as the Arab
had been exasperated by a blow, the punishment would not be excessive.

When at length I had seized the last remaining minute to put the
question, "Do you think Miss Gilder has found out who you really are?"
Fenton seemed astonished.

"I hadn't thought of it at all," he answered simply. "She's giving me
too many other things to think of."

"What kind of things?" I stealthily inquired.

"Oh,"--with an evasive air--"I don't know what to make of her yet. But
I haven't given up my silly scheme."

"What silly scheme?"

"Antoun" looked almost sulky. "Well, if you've forgotten, I won't
remind you. It's absurd; it's even brutal; and I'm ashamed of it. But I
stick to it."




CHAPTER XIV