Saptember 14, 1916 
LAND & WATER 
21 
aloag it, and presently struck a gap. "Hiere was an old iion 
gate, en broken hinges, which we easily pushed open, and 
found ourselves on a back path to some house. It was 
clearly disused, for masses of rotting leaves covered it, and 
by the feel of it underfoot it was grass-grown. 
We were dismounted now, leading our horses, and after 
about fifty yards the path ceased "and came out on a well- 
made carriage drive, So, at least, we guessed, for the place 
was as black as pitch. Evidently tlie house couldn't be far 
off, but in which direction I hadn't a notion. 
Now I didn't want to be paying calls on any Turk at that 
time of day. Our job was to find where the road ojiened 
into the lane, for after that our way to Constantinople was 
clear. One side the lane lay, and the other the house, and 
it didn't seem wise to take the risk of tramping up with 
horses to the front door. So I told Peter to wait for me at 
the end of the back-road, whUe I would prospect a bit. I 
turned to the right, ray intention being if I saw the light of a 
house to return, and with Peter take the other direction. 
I walked Uke a bhnd man in that nether-pit of darkness. 
The roa'd seemed well kept, and the soft wet gravel muffled 
the sounds of my feet. Great trees overhung it, and several 
times I wandered into dripping bushes. And then I stopped 
short in my tracks, for I heard the sound of whistling. 
It was quite close, about ten yards away. And the strange 
thing was that it was a tune I knew, about the last tune you 
would expect to hear in this part of the world. It was the 
Scotch air : " Ca' the yowes to the knowes," which was a 
favourite of my father's. 
The whistler must have felt my presence, for the air 
suddenly stopped in the middle of a bar. An unbounded 
curiosity seized me to know who the fellow could be. So I 
started in and finished it myself. 
There was silence for a second, and then the unknown 
began again and stopped. Once more I chipped in and 
finished it. 
Then it seemed to me that he was coming nearer. The 
air in that dank tunnel was very still, and I thought I heard 
a light foot. I think I took a step backward. Suddenly 
there was a flash of an electric torch from a yard off, so quick 
that I could see nothing of the man who held it. 
Then a low voice spoke out of the darkness — a voice I 
knew well — and, following it, a hand was laid on my arm. 
" What the devil are you doing here, Dick ? " it said, and 
there was something Hke consternation in the tone. 
I told him in a hectic sentence, for I was beginning to feel 
badly rattled myself. 
" You've never been in greater danger in your life," said 
the voice. " Great God, man, what brought you wandering 
here to-day of all days ? " 
You can imagine that I was pretty scared, for Sandy was 
the last man to put a case too high. And the next second I 
felt worse, for he clutched my arm and dragged me in a 
bound to the side of the road. I could see nothing, but I 
felt that his head was screwed round, and mine followed suit. 
And there, a dozen yards off, were the acetylene lights of a 
big motor-car. , 
It came along very slowly, purring like a great cat, while 
we preaced into the bushes. The headlights seemed to spread 
a fan far to either side, showing the full width of the drive 
and its borders, and about half the height of the over- 
arching trees. There was a figure in uniform sitting beside 
the chauffeur, whom I saw dimly in the reflex glow, but 
the body of the car was dark. 
It crept towards us, passed, and my mind was just getting 
easy when it stopped. A switch was snapped withijQ, and 
the limousine was brightly Ut up. Inside I saw a woman's 
figure. 
The servant had got out and opened the door and a voice 
came from within — a clear soft voice speaking in some tongue 
I did not understand. Sandy had started forward at the 
sound of it, and I followed him. It would never do for me to 
be caught skulking in the bushes. 
I was so dazzled by the suddenness of the glare that at 
first I blinked and saw nothing. Then my eyes cleared and 
I found myself looking at the inside of a car upholstered in 
soaDoe soft dove-coloured fabric, and beautifully finished off 
in ivory and silver. The woman who sat in it had a mantilla 
of black lace over her head and shoulders, and with one 
slender jewelled hand she kept its folds over the greater part 
of her face. I saw only a pair of pale grey-blue eyes — these 
and the shm fingers. C-^ 
I remember that Sandy was standing very upright with his 
hands on his hips, by no means like a servant in the presence 
of his mistress. He was a fine figure of a man at all times, 
but in those wild clothes, with his head thrown back, and his 
d^rk brows drawn below his skull-cap, he looked hke some 
savage king out of an older world. He was speaking Turkish, 
and glancing at nm now and then as if angry and perplexed. 
I took the hint that he was not supposed to know any othei 
tongue, and that he was asking who the devil I might be. 
Then they both looked at me, Sandy with the slow un- 
winking stare of the gipsy, the lady with those curious beauti- 
ful pale eyes. They ran over my clothes, my brand-new 
riding-breeches, my splashed gaiters, my wide-brimmed hat. 
I took off the last and made my best bow. 
" Madam," I said, " I have to ask pardon for trespassing 
in your garden. The fact is, I and my servant — he's down 
the road with the horses and I guess you noticed him — the 
two of us went for a ride this afternoon, and got good and 
well lost. We came in by your back gate, and I was prospect- 
ing for your front door to find some one to direct us, when 
I bumj>ed into this brigand-chief who didn't understand my 
talk. I'm American, and I'm here on a big Government 
proposition. I hate to trouble you, but if you'd send a man 
to show us how to strike the city I'd be very much in jour 
debt." 
Her eyes never left my face. " Will you come into the 
car ? " she said in English. " At the house I will give you 
a servant to direct you." 
She drew in the skirts of her fur cloak to make room for 
me, and in my muddy boots and sopping clothes I took the 
seat she pointed out. She said a word in Turkish to Sandy,, 
switched off the hght, and the car moved on. 
Women have never come much my way, and I knew about 
as much of their ways as I knew about the Chinese language. 
All my life I have hved with men only, and rather a rough, 
crowd at that. When I made my pile and came home 1 
looked to see a Uttle society, but I had first the business ot 
the Black Stone on my hands, and then the war, so my 
education languished. I had never been in a motor car with 
a lady before, and I felt like a fish on a dry sandbank. The 
soft cushions and the subtle scents filled me with acute 
uneasiness. I wasn't thinking now about ■ Sandy's grave 
words, or about Blenkiron's warning, or about my job and 
the part this woman must play in it. I was thinking only 
that I felt mortally shy. The darkness made it worse. I was 
sure that my companion was looking at me all the time and 
laughing at me for a clown. 
The car stopped and a tall servant opened the door. The 
lady was over the threshold before I was at the step. I 
followed her heavily, the wet squelcliing from my field-boots. 
At that moment I noticed that she was very tall. 
She led me through a long corridor to a room where two 
pillars held lamps in the shape of torches. The place was 
dark but for their glow, and it was as warm as a hothouse 
from invisible stoves. I felt soft carpets underfoot, and on 
the walls hung some taj>estry or rug of an amazingly intricate 
gecttnetrical pattern, but with every strand as rich as jewels. 
There, between the pillars, she turned and faced me. 
Her furs were thrown back, and the black mantilla had shpped 
down to her shoulders. 
(T« be continued) 
Union Jack Club Fund 
The following are subscriptions to the Union Jack Club 
Extension Fund up to Friday, September 8th : — 
£ s. d. 
Previously acknowledged . . . . . . 2,625 12 6 
" Calcutta " . . . . . . . . . . 500 
Capt. Alec. Mason, R.E. . . . . . . . . 500 
Frank C. Erskine, Esq. . . . . . . . . 500 
Mrs. C. E. Anderson . . . . . . . . 30a 
E. W. Hooper, Esq. . . . . . . . . i i o 
" M.A." 10 o 
£2,645 3 6 
AU 
to 
contributions should he forwarded 
The Editor, " LAND & WATER," 
Empire House, Kingsway, 
London, W.G. 
Envelopes should he marked " U.J.C. Fund," and 
all the cheques should he crossed "Coutts' Bank." 
Jade has become fashionable again and jade necklaces 
and pendants are being worn in preference to other orna- 
ments. The smallest necklace of well matched pale green 
Chinese jade is costly to buy, so keen has the feeling for it 
become. Fancy prices are being asked and given for an in- 
significant row of beads with value apparent only to the eye 
of a connoisseur in jade and its variations. 
