Harley nodded grimly, watching a ring of smoke floating slowly upward.

“It is a little thing to those who know the truth,” the speaker resumed.  “To the purblind laws of the West it may seem a great thing.  We seek in Rome to do as Rome does.  We judge every man as we find him.  Therefore, recognizing that your total disappearance might compromise our movements in the near future, we have decided to offer you an alternative.  This offer is based upon the British character.  Where the oath of some men is a thing of smoke, the word of honour of an Englishman we are prepared to accept.”

“Many thanks,” murmured Harley.  “On behalf of Great Britain I accept the compliment.”

“We have such faith in the completeness of our plans, and in the nearness of the hour of triumph, that if you will pledge yourself to silence, in writing, you will not be molested in any way.  You occupy at the moment the apartment reserved for neophytes of a certain order.  But we do not ask you to become a neophyte.  Disciples must seek us, we do not seek disciples.  We only ask for your word that you will be silent.”

“It is impossible,” said Harley, tersely.

“Think well of the matter.  It may not seem so impossible to-morrow.”

“I decline definitely.”

“You are sustaining yourself with false hopes, Mr. Harley.  You think you have clues which will enable you to destroy a system rooted in the remote past.  Also you forget that you have lost your freedom.”

Paul Harley offered no further answer to the speaker concealed behind the violet curtain.

“Do not misunderstand us,” the voice continued.  “We bind you to nothing but silence.”

“I refuse,” said Harley, sharply.  “Dismiss the matter.”

“In spite of your refusal, time for consideration will be given to you.”

Faintly Paul Harley detected the sounds made by Ormuz Khan and his secretary in withdrawing.  The light beneath the curtain disappeared.

For perhaps a space of two hours, Paul Harley sat smoking and contemplating the situation from every conceivable angle.  It was certainly desperate enough, and after a time he rose with a weary sigh, and made a second and more detailed examination of the several apartments.

It availed him nothing, but one point he definitely established.  Escape was impossible, failing outside assistance.  A certain coldness in the atmosphere, which was perceptible immediately beneath the barred window, led him to believe that this communicated with the outer air.

He was disposed to think that his unconsciousness had lasted less than an hour, and that it was still dark without.  He was full of distrust.  He no longer believed his immediate death to have been decided upon.  For some reason it would seem that the group wished him to live, at any rate, temporarily.  But now a complete theory touching the death of Sir Charles Abingdon had presented itself to his mind.  Knowing little, but suspecting much of the resources of Fire-Tongue, he endeavoured to avoid contact with anything in the place.