“But where’s the sense of abusing us?” repeated Yerkes.

“That’s the poor thing’s way of claiming class superiority,” said Monty.  “She was born into one class, married into another, and divorced into a third.  She’d likely to forget she said an unkind word the next time she meets you.  Give her one chance and she’ll pretend she believes you were born to the purple—­flatter you until you half believe it yourself.  Later on, when it suits her at the moment, she’ll denounce you as a social impostor!  It’s just habit—­bad habit, I admit—­comes of the life she leads.  Lots of ’em like her.  Few of ’em quite so well informed, though, and dangerous if you give ’em a chance.”

“I still don’t see why you’re sweating,” said Fred.

“It’s hot.  There’s a chance she knows where the ivory is!  She has money, but how?  She’d have begged if she were short of cash!  It’s my impression she has been in German government employ for a number of years.  Possibly they have paid her to do some spy-work—­in the Zanzibar court, perhaps—­the Sultan’s a mere boy—­”

“Isn’t he woolly-headed?” objected Yerkes.

“Mainly Arab.  It’s a French game to send a white woman to intrigue at colored courts, but the Germans are good imitators.”

“Isn’t she English?” asked Yerkes.

“Her trade’s international,” said Monty dryly.  “My guess is that Coutlass or Hassan told her what we’re supposed to be doing here, and she pretends to know where the ivory is in order to trap us all in some way.  The net’s spread for me, but there’s no objection to catching you fellows as well.”

“She’ll need to use sweeter bait than I’ve seen yet!” laughed Yerkes.

“She’ll probably be sweetness itself next time she sees you.  She’ll argue she’s created an impression and can afford to be gracious.”

“Impression is good!” said Yerkes.  “I mean it’s bad!  She has created one, all right!  What’s the likelihood of her having double-crossed the Germans?  Mightn’t she have got a clue to where the stuff is, and be holding for a better market than they offer?”

“I was coming to that,” said Monty.  “Yes, it’s possible.  But whatever her game is, don’t let us play it for her.  Let her do the leading.  If she gets hold of you fellows, one at a time or all together, for the love of heaven tell her nothing!  Let her tell all she likes, but admit nothing—­tell nothing—­ask no questions!  That’s an old rule in diplomacy (and remember, she’s a diplomat, whatever else she may be!) Old-stagers can divine the Young ones’ secrets from the nature of the questions they ask!  So if you got the chance, ask her nothing!  Don’t lie, either!  It would take a very old hand to lie to her in such way that she couldn’t see through it!”

“Why not be simply rude and turn our backs?” said I.

“Best of all—­provided you can do it!  Remember, she’s a old hand!”

“D’you mean,” said Yerkes, “that if she were to offer proof that she knows where that ivory is, and proposed terms, you wouldn’t talk it over?”