"
"But you might have confided...."
"Impossible! I'll admit I nearly fell to the temptation that first
night; for I could see into your room as well as into his!" He slapped
me boisterously on the back, but his grey eyes were suspiciously
moist. "Dear old Petrie! Thank God for our friends! But you'd be the
first to admit, old man, that you're a dead poor actor! Your portrayal
of grief for the loss of a valued chum would not have convinced a soul
on board!
"Therefore I made use of Stacey, whose callous attitude was less
remarkable. Gad, Petrie! I nearly bagged our man the first night! The
elaborate plan--Marconi message to get you out of the way, and so
forth--had miscarried, and he knew the port-hole trick would be
useless once we got into the open sea. He took a big chance. He
discarded his clerical guise and peeped into your room--you
remember?--but you were awake, and I made no move when he slipped back
to his own cabin; I wanted to take him red-handed."
"Have you any idea ...?"
"Who he is? No more than _where_ he is! Probably some creature of Dr.
Fu-Manchu specially chosen for the purpose; obviously a man of
culture, and probably of thug ancestry. I hit him--in the shoulder;
but even then he ran like a hare. We've searched the ship, without
result. He may have gone overboard and chanced the swim to shore...."
We stepped out on to the deck. Around us was that unforgettable
scene--Port Said by night.
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