could see them from the temple – saw the Japanese gunners open fire. The Tchortchas were blown to shreds in the blast of the Japanese guns… Sanang got away with some of his Yezidee horsemen."
"Where was that battle?"
"I told you, outside the walls of Yian."
"The newspapers never mentioned any such trouble in China," he said, suspiciously.
"Nobody knows about it except the Germans and the Japanese."
"Who is this Sanang?" he demanded.
"A Yezidee-Mongol. He is one of the Sheiks-el-Djebel – a servant of The Old Man of Mount Alamout."
"What is he?"
"A sorcerer – assassin."
"What!" exclaimed Cleves incredulously.
"Why, yes," she said, calmly. "Have you never heard of The Old Man of Mount Alamout?"
"Well, yes – "
"The succession has been unbroken since 1090 B.C.A Hassan Sabbah is still the present Old Man of the Mountain. His Yezidees worship Erlik. They are sorcerers. But you would not believe that."
Cleves said with a smile, "Who is Erlik?"
"The Mongols' Satan."
"Oh! So these Yezidees are devil-worshipers!"
"They are more. They are actually devils."
"You don't really believe that even in unexplored China there exists such a creature as a real sorcerer, do you?" he inquired, smilingly.
"I don't wish to talk of it."
To his surprise her face had flushed, and he thought her sensitive mouth quivered a little.
He watched her in silence for a moment; then, leaning a little way across the table:
"Where are you going when the show here closes?"
"To my boarding-house."
"And then?"
"To bed," she said, sullenly.
"And to-morrow what do you mean to do?"
"Go out to the agencies and ask for work."
"And if there is none?"
"The chorus," she said, indifferently.
"What salary have you been getting?"
She told him.
"Will you take three times that amount and work with me?"
CHAPTER IV
BODY AND SOUL
The girl's direct gaze met his with that merciless searching intentness he already knew.
"What do you wish me to do?"
"Enter the service of the United States."
"Wh-what?"
"Work for the Government."
She was too taken aback to answer.
"Where were you born?" he demanded abruptly.
"In Albany, New York," she replied in a dazed way.
"You are loyal to your country?"
"Yes – certainly."
"You would not betray her?"
"No."
"I don't mean for money; I mean from fear."
After a moment, and, avoiding his gaze: "I am afraid of death," she said very simply.
He waited.
"I – I don't know what I might do – being afraid," she added in a troubled voice. "I desire to – live."
He still waited.
She lifted her eyes: "I'd try not to betray my country," she murmured.
"Try to face death for your country's honour?"
"Yes."
"And for your own?"
"Yes; and for my own."
He leaned nearer: "Yet you're taking a chance on your own honour to-night."
She blushed brightly: "I didn't think I was taking a very great chance with you."
He said: "You have found life too hard. And when you faced failure in New York you began to let go of life – real life, I mean. And you came up here to-night wondering whether you had courage to let yourself go. When I spoke to you it scared you. You found you hadn't the courage. But perhaps to-morrow you might find it – or next week – if sufficiently scared by hunger – you might venture to take the first step along the path that you say others usually take sooner or later."
The girl flushed scarlet, sat looking at him out of eyes grown dark with anger.
He said: "You told me an untruth. You have been tempted to betray your country. You have resisted. You have been threatened with death. You have had courage to defy threats and temptations where your country's honour was concerned!"
"How do you know?" she demanded.
He continued, ignoring the question: "From the time you landed in San Francisco you have been threatened. You tried to earn a living by your magician's tricks, but in city after city, as you came East, your uneasiness grew into fear, and your fear into terror, because every day more terribly confirmed your belief that people were following you determined either to use you to their own purposes or to murder you – "
The girl turned quite white and half rose in her chair, then sank back, staring at him out of dilated eyes. Then Cleves smiled: "So you've got the nerve to do Government work," he said, "and you've got the intelligence, and the knowledge, and something else – I don't know exactly what to call it – Skill? Dexterity? Sorcery?" he smiled – "I mean your professional ability. That's what I want – that bewildering dexterity of yours, to help your own country in the fight of its life. Will you enlist for service?"
"W-what fight?" she asked faintly.
"The fight with the Red Spectre."
"Anarchy?"
"Yes… Are you ready to leave this place? I want to talk to you."
"Where?"
"In my own rooms."
After a moment she rose.
"I'll go to your rooms with you," she said. She added very calmly that she was glad it was to be his rooms and not some other man's.
Out of countenance, he demanded what she meant, and she said quite candidly that she'd made
