Wallace of the Secret Service Read Free Page A

manage to cause a stoppage by becoming entangled with a stylish carriage. The driver of the latter belaboured the donkey boy unmercifully, while the women added their shrill voices to the general din, but a policeman succeeded in separating the two vehicles and, with a final hearty cuff to the old donkey, sent the creaking cart on its way.
    Wallace had watched the scene with amusement, indeed had even added his efforts to the process of extrication. At first he thought the carriage empty, but as it moved by he caught a glimpse of a pair of dark eyes, flashing seductively under thick black eyelashes. The woman, whoever she was, wore the thinnest of yashmaks , and it seemed to Sir Leonard that he could faintly discern a mocking smile lurking at the corners of her lips as she glanced at him. He wondered idly who she was, as he walked slowly back to the hotel, but soon forgot her existence.
    After dinner that night, a note was brought to him and, feeling perplexed and a trifle concerned, he took it from the tray which the soffraghi held towards him. His mystification was further increased as he caught the elusive scent of some perfume and, for a moment, he balanced the note in his hand frowning thoughtfully. The waiter remained standing by and, on being told to go, informed Sir Leonard that an answer was awaited.
    The Englishman then tore the envelope open, and extracted the half sheet of dainty notepaper which it contained. His bewilderment, instead of being diminished by what he read, increased to a state of sheer astonishment. There were only two sentences, and neither superscription nor signature. The writing was obviously that of a female.
    The lady in the carriage on the bridge would like to meet Mr Collins. If he follows the bearer of this note, he will learn something to his advantage.
    For several moments Wallace sat staring at the paper in his hand, and he was doing the hardest thinking he had engaged in for some time. He was by no means a ladies’ man, his wife, Molly, being all in all to him, and not for one moment did he imagine that the dark-haired woman, of whom he had caught such a fleeting glance, had been attracted by him, and desired his acquaintance, merely for the sake of coquetry. There was something deeper underlying her motive in sending him such an extraordinary invitation. Of that he was assured. What could she have to tell him that would be to his advantage? And how did she know his spurious name? So many possibilities hinged on the note that a feeling of intense disquiet troubled him, and he came to the conclusion that speculation was useless.
    ‘Where is the messenger?’ he asked suddenly.
    In the foyer, he was informed, and directed the waiter to lead him to the man. A gigantic Ethiopian stood stiffly at the entrance like a picturesque statue, but to all Sir Leonard’s questions he shook his head, either indicating that he could not answer them or did not understand. The situation was growing momentarily more perplexing, but, although anxious to solve the problem, he had no intention of accepting the invitation of the letter, and following the lady’s sable messenger. Bidding the soffraghi , who still remained in attendance, to tell the man to wait, he walked off to the writing room. Some instinct caused him to glance round after he had gone a few paces, and he saw the two in earnest conversation – much more earnest thanWallace’s instruction to the waiter would appear to warrant. It looked as though the latter was in collusion with the other or, at least, knew more about the affair than a disinterested member of the hotel staff should know.
    Sir Leonard sat for some minutes at a writing-table idly tapping, with a pen, the notepaper he had drawn towards him. He remembered Achmet’s words: ‘This place is full of spies,’ and wondered if the soffraghi and the eunuch were connected with the people he had come to Cairo to unmask. If so, it would mean that he and his purpose were known, and