the women and children—all save kara—withdrew into the shadows. the men gathered together. tokalji crossed to the entrance.

"less noise there!" he shouted threateningly. "this is a peaceful house."

but his manner changed the moment he opened the wicket. what he said we could not hear, but we saw him quickly turn the lock and throw back a leaf of the door, salaaming low as he stepped aside. six men burst in, four of them in european clothes, and nikka and i exchanged a glance of apprehension as we recognized the broad shoulders of their leader and heard his snarling voice.

toutou lafitte had arrived. with him were hilyer, serge vassilievich and hilmi bey. the two who brought up the rear, somewhat sulky and fearful, were the spies we had seen in front of the pera palace that morning.

"can i trust nobody to fulfill my orders?" whined toutou, striding toward the fire. "i tell you to spare no efforts—and i come to find you singing and dancing around a fire! is that working? is that carrying out our treaty? but all are the same! my best people fail me."

his green eyes shone evilly; his hands writhed with suppressed ferocity. tokalji, having refastened the door, followed him across the courtyard. the gypsy looked uncomfortable, but showed no fear.

"what could we have done that we have not done?" he retorted. "was it our fault that you lost track of the two missing ones? as for the english lord and his servant, my two men that i see with you have shadowed them day and night."

"and lost them to-day, as they admit," snarled toutou. "lost them for a whole day! who knows what has been accomplished in that time?"

"you are right there," agreed tokalji coolly, "and i have just picked two new men to take their places. zlacho and petko are good enough for ordinary thievery, but this job seems to be above them."

"that is well," said toutou, partly mollified. "there must be a change in our methods or we shall fail in this coup. i decided to hasten on to constantinople with my colleagues because i was sure the two who have escaped us must come here sooner or later, and whenever they come we shall find them. but i cannot do everything. it is for you to follow their trails."

"never fear! we shall," replied tokalji. "my new men start out at once. one of them is a frank like yourself; the other is a tzigane."

"ha; let me see that frank," exclaimed toutou. "i know many of the franks who live with the tziganes."

"step out, giorgi bordu and jakka," called tokalji.

nikka sunk his fingers in my arm in a warning grip, and we stepped forth from the group of tziganes clustered in front of the fire. there was at least a chance that we should not be identified—but its value was demonstrated the instant the firelight splashed over nikka's aquiline face and tense, febrile body.

"surely, i have seen that lean fellow before," piped hilmi bey, pointing at nikka.

"i saw them standing near the frank lord and his servant in pera this morning," said one of the spies.

"what of that?" shouted tokalji angrily. "it is true they followed the franks—which was more than you could do, petko—and robbed them."

"no, the franks followed them," protested zlacho, the other spy.

"you lie, you dog!" bellowed tokalji. "you think to discredit them because they will do the work you bungled."

vassilievich pushed in front of the newcomers.

"is it my imagination," he inquired softly, "or does the stocky one bear a resemblance to the americansky, nash?"

"by jove, i think you're right!" exclaimed hilyer, speaking for the first time.

"be ready," hissed nikka from the corner of his mouth, without shifting his eyes from our enemies.

his right hand was thrust into his waist-sash.

"i do not like this business," rasped toutou, pulling a knife from inside his vest. "somebody shall be tortured until he tells the truth."

i felt a pressure between nikka and myself, and kara's voice whispered:

"run, you fools! to the house of the married!"

nikka's pistol flashed blue in the firelight.

"shoot, jack!" he cried.

a ruddy flame jetted from his muzzle, and the spy petko dropped dead. toutou lafitte pushed zlacho in the line of fire before himself, and dived into the encircling shadows as zlacho crumpled up with a broken leg. tokalji, hilyer, vassilievich and hilmi scattered. i swung on my heel and shot twice over the group of gypsies by the fire. i could not bring myself to shoot at them, for there were women and children close by. then a bullet whistled past my ear, and toutou's voice whined:

"no shooting! use your knives! take them alive!"

i had a fleeting glimpse of kara, running at me with her knife raised.

"there are only two!" roared tokalji. "pull them down!"

"run!" i heard nikka shout.

we pelted for the house on our left, the house of the married, as kara had called it. despite toutou's warning, a second bullet spattered on the stones between nikka and me; but we were poor marks in the half-light, with people running in every direction, many of them uncertain who were friends or foes. i turned as i ran, and fired into the ground in front of kara, who was the closest of our pursuers; but she refused to be frightened and actually plunged through the doorway on our heels.

"i'll tend to her," panted nikka. "you fasten the door, jack."

there was a wooden bar, which i dropped into place, and the next minute the framework groaned under a weight of bodies.

"no shooting," yelled tokalji. "you fools, you'll have the frank police in here!"

"one hundred napoleons a head for them," barked toutou. "dead or alive."

the uproar redoubled, and then tokalji evidently invaded the throng hammering at the door.

"leave that door alone," he snapped. "you're wasting time. go through the windows."

"come on, nikka," i urged. "we can't guard every point. we must run for it."

"but what about this?" demanded nikka whimsically. he jerked his pistol muzzle at kara sitting demurely on the floor, playing with her knife. "if we show our backs, she'll knife us or open the door—and besides, where shall we go?"

"tie her up," i answered impatiently.

kara, who, of course, could not understand a word of what we were saying, laughed with glee.

"do you think i am your enemy?" she demanded in the tzigane dialect. "i tell you i am your friend. see!"

and she tossed her knife across the room.

"i came with you to help you, giorgi bordu."

"my name is nikka zaranko," he answered shortly.

"what matters your name?" she leaped up and flung her arms around his neck. "it is you i love—not your name."

nikka eyed me sheepishly across her shoulder.

"see you, little one," he remonstrated, "this is no time for talking of love. we may be dead in five minutes."

"oh, no," she said, releasing him, nevertheless, "you shall be off and away. i, kara—" and it was ridiculous how she strutted in the manner of tokalji, himself—"will set you free—because i love you."

"but i am the enemy of your tribe—your enemy," replied nikka. "you do not realize what you do."

"i care not who you are," she insisted. "i love you. i care that for the tribe!"

she snapped her fingers.

"but come," she added as a crash sounded outside. "they have broken in a window. follow me."

she led us into an adjoining room, where in the thickness of the wall a narrow stairway corkscrewed upward, debouching on the upper floor. here was a long hall, with rooms opening off it, their windows usually on the inner courtyard, the garden of the cedars of the first hugh's instructions. she turned to the right, and entered one of the rooms. a ladder leaned against the wall below a trap-door in the roof. in a corner stood a bedstead, which she stripped of its clothes, revealing the cords that served for springs.

"cut those with your knife," she said. "when we take to the roofs we will need them to help us down again."

nikka did as she directed, while i shut the door, and piled the few articles of furniture against it. tokalji's men were in full cry downstairs.

"there is more than enough rope here," said nikka, coiling it on his arm. "some of it i am going to use for you."

"what?"

passion dawned in her big eyes.

"you cannot go with us, little one. we have no place to take you. and you do not know me. to-morrow you would cry your eyes out."

"i tell you i love you," she answered proudly. "i, kara tokalji."

"the daughter of my deadly enemy," reiterated nikka.

"oh, he is not my father," she said lightly. "no, i think i will go with you, nikka."

"and i think you won't," retorted nikka, gritting his teeth. "here, jack, catch hold."

he cut the rope in two, gave me half, and with the remaining section, approached her. she backed away from him.

"i'm not going to hurt you," pleaded nikka. "but i must bind you so they will not suspect that you aided us. don't you see? and we could not run so fast with you."

"i can run as fast as the frank," she declared. "but—"

"our enemies will be here in a moment," warned nikka.

she extended her hands, wrists joined together.

"bind me," she said wearily. "i love you, nikka zaranko. if i can help you in no other way, then, i will help you by staying here."

he bound her gently, hand and foot, without a word, and laid her on the floor by the bed. i ascended the ladder, and pushed back the trapdoor.

"you will come again?" she asked, looking up at him with mournful eyes.

"if i do, it will be as an enemy," he returned.

"your enemies are my enemies," she cried, struggling to a sitting position. "with a woman it is her man who counts. she cares nothing for the tribe—unless it be her man's. now, you are my man, nikka zaranko."

nikka stooped over her, and i scrambled up on the roof. i believe he kissed her. i heard his feet on the ladder-rungs, and his voice calling back:

"you are a brave girl. we will talk about this some other time, if the stars are kind."

"oh, we shall meet again," she replied, her cords creaking as she dropped flat on the floor. "i am as sure of it as if mother kathene had told me when the sight was on her."

to me he merely said:

"hurry, jack! we've lost too much time. which way?"

but i reached down first, and hauled up the ladder. the door was shaking under a shower of blows. kara looked interested as my arm appeared, and her lips shaped themselves for a kiss. then she saw it was i, and scowled.

"next house," i panted, and we set off across the roof.

to our left was the inner courtyard, a well of darkness in which tinkled the fountain of the lion. to our right lay sokaki masyeri. ahead was a drop of ten feet on to the adjoining roof, the difference in height representing the declining slope of the ground. we made it without any difficulty. the people in this house had been aroused by the shooting, and we could hear their voices and movements. but we shuffled on cautiously, until we came to their courtyard, which ran clear from the street-front to the old sea-wall.

"no choice," grunted nikka. "here's a chimney. knot your rope. it can't be more than twenty-five feet to the ground.'

"why not slide directly into the street?" i argued.

"they might catch us coming down. do as i say, and we can make sure whether the coast is clear before we leave the courtyard."

he went down first, and i followed him, scorching my hands, for the rope was thin and had no knots to check one's descent. i was in mid-air when i heard an exclamation beneath me, and a thud.

"what the devil—" i started to whisper.

"hsst!" came from nikka. "don't say anything."

he was standing over an inert figure lying on the ground beside a half-opened door.

"did you—"

"no, only belted him over the head with my pistol."

a woman's voice sounded inside the house, aggressively inquisitive.

"my god!" breathed nikka. "she'll be out in a minute, and i can't hit her. we've got to try the street."

we stole through the courtyard to the street-door. behind us toutou's house was seething with activity. somebody, apparently, had just gained the roof. the woman inside the house we had invaded became impatient, and a light showed. my fingers fumbled for the latch; it seemed to me i should never find it. the light wavered into the doorway, and a scream rose shrilly.

"let me try," said nikka. "here it is!"

he pulled the door toward us very slowly, and we peered into the street. not a figure showed in the direction of tokalji's house. ahead of us only a kerosene lantern burned in front of a coffee-shop on the corner where sokaki masyeri curved to the north. and the woman in the doorway of the house behind us was shrieking for dear life.

we sped out into the street, letting the door slam behind us. the noise distracted the attention of the woman from her unconscious husband, and she left him to run after us. we also made the mistake of taking the middle of the way instead of sticking to the shadows under the walls. and we had not gone fifty feet when we were seen by gypsies on the roof of tokalji's house, and they, with the woman to help them, cried the rest of the pack hot on our trail.

at the corner by the coffee-shop i looked back and counted six in a tapering string, with more emerging from the courtyard or climbing over the roofs. luckily for us, however, there was a four-way crossing a hundred yards beyond the coffee-shop, and nikka turned left, away from pera, toward which they would expect us to head. we would have been safe then if we had not blundered into a turkish gendarme. he was naturally suspicious of our haste, and blocked the narrow way; but i gave him a terrific punch in his fat stomach before he could pull his gun.

we got by, of course, but his roars put the tziganes right, and they followed the scent instead of losing it as we reckoned they would. the only thing for nikka to do in the circumstances was to twist and turn without heed to direction and lose both pursuers and ourselves in the breakneck purlieus of stamboul. he succeeded in shaking off the gypsies finally, but we were hopelessly astray, and it was past midnight when we found the khan of the georgians and staggered through the gate to thread a precarious path between sleeping men, camels, bullocks, asses and horses.

wasso mikali awakened with the first knock on his door, and admitted us. smoking cigarette after cigarette as rapidly as he could roll them, he listened to the story of our adventures with avidity,—although i discovered later that nikka had suppressed kara's part—and immediately dispatched his young men to spy around tokalji's house, and learn the dispositions the enemy were taking. then he insisted that we should sleep while he kept watch, and the last memory i have of that awful night is of the old gypsy's figure stretched out on the floor, his back against the bolted door and a cigarette in his mouth.

when we awakened the sun was streaming in through the open door along with all the noises of the khan and many of its smells. our guardian had coffee ready for us in a pot on the brazier, and his young men had sent in a report. the women and children had left tokalji's house under escort of several of the men shortly after dawn. a vigilant guard was being maintained on the entrance, and nobody had come or gone—aside from the party of women and children—since observation had been established. before sunrise our spies had heard the sounds of digging inside the premises.

wasso mikali looked doubtful as he imparted this last information.

"perhaps they, too, have discovered the location of the treasure," he suggested.

"no," said nikka, smiling. "they are burying their dead."

"ha, that is a good thought to hold in the mind," exclaimed the old gypsy, immensely pleased. "what better pleasure could a man ask than to contemplate his enemies burying their brother that he slew!"

but instead of indulging in this tzigane pastime we decided to take our european clothing and adjourn to a neighboring turkish bath where we could remove the evidence of our gypsy life. wasso mikali went with us to carry back to the khan our discarded gipsy costumes. i urged him to join us in the pool after we had soaked off the top layer of iniquities in a private room; but he shook his head with a grimace of disgust.

"tell jakka, o son of my sister," he said, "that i marvel at the way you risk your naked skins. how can a man hope to withstand the cold and heat if he has nothing but clothing to cover him? too much water is bad for the strongest. it weakens the muscles."