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I turned and faced the door. First entered Carneta, carrying the basket; then came a man with a revolver in his left hand and his right arm strapped across his chest and swathed in bandages. One glance revealed the fact that his right hand had been severed revealed the fact, though I knew it already, that my captor was Earl Dexter. He looked even leaner than when I had last seen him.
"That would not have induced me to run the risk of coming here. I came because I wanted to find a man who was brave enough to help me. We have no friends in London, and so it became a question of terms. I can repay you by helping you to trace Hassan." "What is it, then, that Dexter asks me to do?" "He asks nothing. I, Carneta, am asking!" "Then you are not come from him?"
Carneta will be in a cab and I'll be in after her and away before they've got time to so much as whistle." Very awkwardly he got into the coat. "She's a clever girl, Carneta," he said. "She's doctored me all along since those devils cut my hand off." As he finished speaking Carneta returned. She had discarded her rags and wore a large travelling coat and a fashionable hat. "Ready?" asked Dexter.
But two minutes later I was inside that place and three minutes later I was away with the slipper! Oh, it wasn't a duplicate; it was the goods! What then? Carneta had had a sickening of the business and she just invited me to say Yes or No. I said Yes; and I'm a straight man onward." "Then what were you doing on the train with the slipper?" asked Hilton sharply.
"For God's sake, what can it be?" My mind supplied no explanation. The idea that it might be a dark room no doubt was suggested by the assumed role of Carneta; but I knew that idea to be absurd. The red light meant something else. Evidently the commencing of operations before all lights were out was irregular, for Carneta said slowly "We must wait and watch the light.
You're down to the skulking game now and you're nearer an advert for Clarkson than Stein-Bloch!" "Yep," said Dexter sadly, "I plead guilty, but I think here's Carneta!"
No sound of bird, beast, or man disturbed our vigil; in fact, it would appear that the very insects shunned the neighbourhood of Hassan of Aleppo. But the red light still shone out. "We must risk it!" said Carneta steadily. "There are French windows opening on to that verandah. Ten yards farther around the bushes come right up to the wall of the house.
"You don't need to ask what's in the bag?" suggested Dexter. "What is in the bag?" ask Hilton hoarsely. "The slipper of the Prophet, sir!" was the reply. I felt dazed, as a man must feel who has just heard the death sentence pronounced upon him. Hilton seemed to have become incapable of speech or action; and in silence we stood watching Carneta tending the unconscious man.
Carneta inquired the direction of Cadham Hall and of the Gate House, and the landlord left us to ourselves. My companion exhibited signs of growing agitation, and it seemed to me that she had much ado to restrain herself from setting out without a moment's delay for the Gate House, which, I readily perceived, was the place to which our strange venture was leading us.
From the directions given by the host of the Vinepole it was impossible to mistake the way or to mistake the house. Amid well-wooded grounds it stood, a place quite isolated, but so typically English that, as I stood looking down upon it, I found myself unable to believe that any other than a substantial country gentleman could be its proprietor. I glanced at Carneta.
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