"Think ye could find yer way out of this?" asked our guide presently.
We had passed through an abominable rookery, and were walking down a
narrow alley, seemingly deserted. Yet I was sensible that eyes were
furtively watching us from behind barred windows, and I fancied that I
heard whispers--mere guttural sounds, that conveyed nothing to the
ear, save, perhaps, a warning that we were on unholy ground. The path
we trod was foul with refuse; the stench was sickening; the most
forlorn cur would surely have slunk from such a kennel; and here,
_here_, to this lazar-house of all that was unclean and infamous,
came of his own free-will--The Babe!
"My God!" exclaimed Ajax, in reply. "How can any man find his way
_into_ it? And, hark ye, my friend, for reasons that we won't
trouble you with, we have not asked the police to accompany us, but if
we are not back at our hotel in two hours' time, the clerk has
instructions to send a constable to your saloon."
"Here we air," said our guide. "Duck yer heads."
We stooped beneath a low arch, and entered a dark passage. At the end
was a rickety staircase; and already we could smell the pungent fumes
of the opium, and taste its bitterness.
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