It was at that point that the three men in advance halted and looked craftily about them; then they suddenly dived through an open archway and disappeared from view, leaving Geoff and his friends a little staggered. "Come along," he cried, for Esbul and Philip had by now drawn quite close to him. "After them as quick as you can, or we may lose them. Keep close together, and carry the matter through as we promised." Dashing along the street, they reached the archway within a few seconds, and, diving into the stone passage to which it gave access, raced through it and across a courtyard even dirtier than any they had passed before. There was not a soul in sight, not a voice to be heard, and it looked at first as if they had missed the men they were following. Then Geoff pointed to a doorway, held his hand up for silence for just half a minute, and later, without a word, turned and threw himself at the aperture. CHAPTER XX Success at Last Dusk was falling over the city of Bagdad, that ancient city situated astride the River Tigris, which, if it could tell tales at all, could tell of ancient peoples, of past history of surpassing interest, of deeds and doings which would enthral all people. How many thousands of times must dusk have settled upon this ancient spot, and clad the gilded roofs of minarets and towers just as it was doing on this evening. How often, too, must figures precisely similar to those which now wended their way through its narrow and tortuous streets have passed over, perhaps, even the very same cobbles, hundreds of years before; maybe there was no difference even in their dress, in the raiment of those people of former days and in that donned now by the inhabitants of the city. Certainly no three less conspicuous people ever passed down the main street which runs towards the Western Gate than those three who emerged from the narrow courtyard into which Geoff and his comrades had dashed. One was mounted on the driving-seat of that same rickety chaise which had conveyed the cunning von Hildemaller to the city; while two others, ill-kempt yet well-set-up fellows, were astride stout Turkish ponies. "Who goes?" the sentry at the gates challenged. "A party, towards the west, in the service of one who is a friend of the Governor. "One who is a friend of the Governor. Ho, ho!" the sergeant of the guard answered flippantly, as if he doubted the words. "Halt, there! Declare yourselves! Who is the high and mighty individual who is a friend of the one who commands our services?" He stepped rapidly forward, while one of his men, at a signal from him, leapt into the centre of the road where it passed through the gates and barred the way with his bayonet. "How now! By Allah; this is a strange saying that you have given us, 'a friend of the Governor?' One who walks in high places and yet employs such scarecrows? Who are you?"