He turned and looked back at Arjeeb Noosrut, then raised his hand and brushed it down the back of his head, which was always the sign “Wait!” to Dollops—­and then spoke as calmly as he could.

“Brother, I will go in and break bread and eat salt with thee,” he said.  “But I may do no more, for to-night I am in haste.”

“Come then,” the man answered; and taking him by the hand, led him in and up to a room at the back of the second storey, where, hot as the night was, the windows were closed and a woman squatted before a lighted brasier, was dripping the contents of an oil cruse over the roasting carcass of a young kid.

“It is to shut out the sounds of the vile infidel orgies from the house adjoining,” explained Arjeeb Noosrut, as Cleek walked to the tightly closed window and leant his forehead against it.  “Yet, if the heat oppresses thee—­”

“It does,” interposed Cleek, and leant far out into the darkness as though sucking in the air when the sash was raised and the thing which had been only a dim babel of wordless sounds a moment before, became now the riotous laughter and the ribald comments of men upon the verses of a comic song which one of their number was joyously singing.

“French!” said Cleek under his breath, as he caught the notes of the singer and the words of his audience—­“French—­I knew it!”

Then he drew in his head, and having broken of the bread and eaten of the salt which, at a word from Arjeeb Noosrut, the woman brought on a wicker tray and laid before them, he moved hastily to the door.

“Brother and son of the faithful, peace be with thee—­I must go,” he said.  “But I come again; and it is written that thou shalt be honoured above all men when I return to thee, and that the true believers—­the true sons of Holy Buddha—­shall have cause to set thy name at the head of the records of those who are most blest of him!”

Then he salaamed and passed out; and, closing the door behind him, ran like a hare down the narrow stairs.  At the door Dollops rose up like the imp in a pantomime and jumped toward him.

“Law, Gov’nor, I’m nigh starved a-waitin’ for yer!” he said in a whisper.  “Wot’s the lay now?  A double-quick change?  I’ve got the stuff here, look!”—­holding up the package he was carrying—­“or a chance for me to do some fly catchin’ with me bloomin’ tickle tootsies?”

The man in the Cingalese costume had vanished from the doorway of the adjoining house, and, catching the boy by the arm, Cleek hurried him to it and drew him into the dark passage.

“I’m going to the back; I’m going to climb up to the windows of the second storey and see who’s there and what’s going on,” he whispered.  “Lie low and watch.  I think it’s Margot’s gang.”

“Oh, colour me blue!  Them beauties?  And in London?  I’d give a tanner for a strong cup o’ tea!”

“Sh-h-h!  Be quiet—­speak low.  Don’t be seen, but keep a close watch; and if anybody comes downstairs—­”