away from him, in the center of the smoking room. While his acquaintance on board the Olga had been no more than a smile and nod in passing, yet the Colonel was glad to renew it, and to recognize a familiar face. Lykoff and Gargarin being compatriots and cabin-mates, it seemed natural that they should sit chatting over their coffee. They kept together because they feared to separate. Lykoff, on tenter-hooks until Old Reliable had delivered his priceless cipher, felt easier at knowing exactly where Gargarin was. And Gargarin's sole chance of capturing that cipher lay in cuddling close to Lykoff. Meanwhile he waited for a report from the man whom he had detailed to ascertain if Zack were entangled in their affair.
To Europeans in conventional dress Colonel Spottiswoode gave little heed. But the twisted turbans and filmy gowns of the Mahometans fascinated him. Nubian waiters moved noiselessly amongst the tables in garments of white, the red tarboush on their heads, red shoes on unsocked feet, and broad red bands about their middles. A beggar tottered past, clutching the low partition with both hands, and trembling in a palsy. The Colonel could only see the upper half of this man, a gaunt high-cheeked Arab with dirty band ages around his head. He groped along, peering under the canopy for such as might give alms to
