Part 16 (2/2)

'That is the old place,' I observed with feeling 'What times I've seen there! Tell me, Mr Kuprasso, do you ever open it now?'

He put his thick lips to nor will be silent I will tell him It is sometimes open-not often Men must amuse themselves even in war Some of the German officers come here for their pleasure, and but last e had the ballet of Mademoiselle Cici The police approve-but not often, for this is no tiaiety I will tell you a secret To! Only a few of my patrons know Who, think you, will be here?'

He bent his head closer and said in a whisper-

'The Conie des Heures Roses'

'Oh, indeed,' I said with a proper tone of respect, though I hadn't a notion what he nor wish to come?'

'Sure,' I said 'Both of us We're all for the rosy hours'

'Then the fourth hour after h the cafe and one will be there to unlock the door You are new-coelo Kuprasso and avoid the streets after nightfall Stamboul is no safe place nowadays for quiet men' I asked him to name a hotel, and he rattled off a list fro with our get-up It was not far off, only a hundred yards to the right at the top of the hill

When we left his door the night had begun to drop We hadn't gone twenty yards before Peter drew very near to

'We are being followed close, Cornelis,' he said calmly

Another ten yards and ere at a cross-roads, where a little place faced a biggish ht a crowd of people who seeh-pitched voice cry out a jabber of excited words, and it seemed to me that I had heard the voice before

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Companions of the Rosy Hours

We battled to a corner, where a jut of building stood out into the street It was our only chance to protect our backs, to stand up with the rib of stone between us It was only the work of seconds One instant ere groping our solitary way in the darkness, the next ere pinned against a ith a throatyround us

It took me a moment or two to realize that ere attacked Every man has one special funk in the back of his head, and ht of it-the le, the sense of unleashed passions different frouard It was a dark world to ht just like this The narrow, fetid street, with the icy winds fanning the filth, the unknown tongue, the hoarse savage ht all be about, ot it in the neck this time, old man,' I said to Peter, who had out the pistol the coiven him These pistols were our only weapons The cro the back, but if they chose to rush us it wasn't much of a barrier two pistols would make

Rasta's voice had stopped He had done his work, and had retired to the background There were shouts from the crowd-'Alleman' and a word 'Khafiyeh' constantly repeated I didn't knohat it meant at the time, but now I know that they were after us because ere Boches and spies There was no love lost between the Constantinople scum and their new masters It seemed an ironical end for Peter and me to be done in because ere Boches And done in we should be I had heard of the East as a good place for people to disappear in; there were no inquisitive newspapers or incorruptible police

I wished to Heaven I had a word of Turkish But I made my voice heard for a second in a pause of the din, and shouted that ere Geruns for Turkey, and were going hoht we had done? I don't know if any fellow there understood Gerht a pandemonium of cries in which that ominous word Khafiyeh was predominant

Then Peter fired over their heads He had to, for a chap was pawing at his throat The ansas a clatter of bullets on the wall above us It looked as if they meant to take us alive, and that I was very clear should not happen Better a bloody end in a street scrap than the tender mercies of that bandbox bravo

I don't quite knohat happened next A press drove down at me and I fired Soled And then, suddenly, the scriht in that pit of darkness

I never went through many worse minutes than these When I had been hunted in the past weeks there had been h, but no ient, physical risk, like Loos, the danger at any rate had been clear One knehat one was in for But here was a threat I couldn't put a na hard at our throats

And yet I couldn't feel it was quite real The patter of the pistol bullets against the wall, like so many crackers, the faces felt rather than seen in the dark, the claibberish, had all thesteadily in Dutch by ht came, and made the scene more eerie!