that she hung there tied and trussed with the voluminous cotton drapery of her own Oriental turban. A fold of this same turban had also been used as a gag, knotted and tied tight across the bruised cheek-flaps and holding the rigid head close in against the stair-spindles. Above the gash of white this gag made across the dusky face, the eyes of the unhappy negress rolled dolorously, both in speechless revolt against such treatment and in mute appeal for release.
But Zuleika no longer figured in Sadie's movements or her sympathies. Her one obsession was to reach the open. And her passion to escape was based on something more than mere fear. It was based on the knowledge that she was acting for the Service, and that now, as never before, the Service stood in need of her help.
She was out through the door and half-way down the house-steps before she noticed that a taxicab was standing at the curb. Its engine was humming, and from under the dripping hood of its driving-seat a water-proofed figure was studiously watching her approach.
As she reached the sidewalk and turned to the
