It was not a sudden sound that broke in upon them but rather the perception of many sounds, muffled, half heard, but gaining upon their consciousness.  Running feet—­a stifled voice—­something faint and shrill—­

Aimee sprang to her feet; the general rose with her and turned his head inquiringly in the direction.  Then he jerked open the door through which Fatima had disappeared; it led to a dark service corridor and small anteroom, from whose bed the attendant was absent.  An outer door was ajar.

No need to question the sounds now.  Faint, but piercingly shrill shrieks were sounding from above, while the footsteps were racing, some down, some up—­

The bey flung shut the door behind him and hurried towards the confusion.

CHAPTER XX

BEYOND THE DOOR

Ryder had stood stock still with amazement when the girl began to scream.  She had gone mad, he thought for an instant, in masculine bewilderment, and then her madness revealed its treacherous cunning, for she began crying wildly for help against an invader, an infidel, a dog of a Christian who had stolen into her rooms.

She had chucked him to the lions, Ryder perceived; one furious flash of lightning jealousy and Oriental anger had overthrown, in that wild and lawless head, every other design for him for which she had risked so much.

He had scorned her....  He had flouted her caprice....  He had dared to refuse the languors of those dangerous eyes....

The hurrying footsteps appeared to him the tread of a legion in action, and he had no desire to rush out upon the oncomers; he had, indeed, distinct doubts of his ruthless ability to pass that supple, clawing, incensed creature at the door.

He whirled and made a bolt for the window, striking at the fastened grill.  He heard the snapping of wooden bolts and the splintering of wood and out through the hole he climbed to a precipitous, head-long flight that fairly felt the clutching hands upon his ankle.

He had meant to make a jump for it.  A three-story plunge into the Nile appeared a gentle exercise compared to the alternative within the palace, but in the very act of releasing his hold he changed his mind.

Quicker than he had ever moved before, in any vicissitude of his lithe and agile youth, he clambered up, not down, and crouching back from sight upon the jutting top of the window, he sent his coat sailing violently through space.

He dared not look over for its descent upon the water, for other heads were peering from below and he could hear an excited outburst of speech, that broke sharply off.

Evidently they were hurrying down to the water gate.  Swiftly he utilized this misdirection for his own ends.

The roofs.  That was the refuge to make for.  Flat, long-reaching roofs, from which one could climb off onto a wall or a palm or a side street.