“I take it, then, Seton,” Lord Wrexborough was saying, “that in your opinion—­although perhaps it is somewhat hastily formed—­there is and has been no connivance between officials and receivers of drugs?”

“That is my opinion, sir.  The traffic has gradually and ingeniously been ‘ringed’ by a wealthy group.  Smaller dealers have been bought out or driven out, and today I believe it would be difficult, if not impossible, to obtain opium, cocaine, or veronal illicitly anywhere in London.  Kazmah and Company had the available stock cornered.  Of course, now that they are out of business, no doubt others will step in.  It is a trade that can never be suppressed under existing laws.”

“I see, I see,” muttered Lord Wrexborough, adjusting his pince-nez.  “You also believe that Kazmah and Company are in hiding within what you term”—­he consulted a written page—­“the ‘Causeway area’?  And you believe that the man called Sin Sin Wa is the head of the organization?”

“I believe the late Sir Lucien Pyne was the actual head of the group,” said Seton bluntly.  “But Sin Sin Wa is the acting head.  In view of his physical peculiarities, I don’t quite see how he’s going to escape us, either, sir.  His wife has a fighting chance, and as for Mohammed el-Kazmah, he might sail for anywhere tomorrow, and we should never know.  You see, we have no description of the man.”

“His passports?” murmured Lord Wrexborough.

Seton Pasha smiled grimly.

“Not an insurmountable difficulty, sir,” he replied, “but Sin Sin Wa is a marked man.  He has the longest and thickest pigtail which I ever saw on a human scalp.  I take it he is a Southerner of the old school; therefore, he won’t cut it off.  He has also only one eye, and while there are many one-eyed Chinamen, there are few one-eyed Chinamen who possess pigtails like a battleship’s hawser.  Furthermore, he travels with a talking raven, and I’ll swear he won’t leave it behind.  On the other hand, he is endowed with an amount of craft which comes very near to genius.”

“And—­Mrs. Monte Irvin?”

Quentin Gray turned suddenly, and his boyish face was very pale.

“Seton, Seton!” he said.  “For God’s sake tell me the truth!  Do you think—­”

He stopped, choking emotionally.  Seton Pasha watched him with that cool, confident stare which could either soothe or irritate; and: 

“She was alive this morning, Gray,” he replied quietly, “we heard her.  You may take it from me that they will offer her no violence.  I shall say no more.”

Lord Wrexborough cleared his throat and took up a document from the table.

“Your remark raises another point, Quentin,” he said sternly, “which has to be settled today.  Your appointment to Cairo was confirmed this morning.  You sail on Tuesday.”

Quentin Gray turned again abruptly and stared out of the window.

“You’re practically kicking me out, sir,” he said.  “I don’t know what I’ve done.”