"_Magnifique!_" Then, regarding Farrell more intently, "But I don't recognize you as any of the Brethren who might be kindly disposed--though those fellows lying on the floor prove the case." "I'm not quite what I seem," admitted Farrell as he arranged the chains so that they could get the full heat of the brazier. Then, staring for an instant at the prisoner and at the device engraved on the emerald set in his massive ring, Farrell hazarded a guess that seemed warranted by the absence of the host who had issued the invitations to the _soirée_ at the château. "Are you by any chance the Marquis----" "_C'est moi!_ Des Islots, and everlastingly at your service!" The saturnine features brightened for a moment. As Farrell pumped the bellows, he wondered at the fortuitous meeting. "Did Hassan put you in here?" "No. Shirkuh, his second in command, arranged this. Hassan is too busy to bother with details----" "He had plenty of time for me," countered Farrell. "Hmmm ... then Shirkuh must be occupied with some important mission," began the Marquis. "The _late_ Shirkuh," corrected Farrell with a grim smile. "_Sacré bleu!_" ejaculated the Marquis. "Did you----" "I have the honor--and pleasure," admitted Farrell. "Thank God! He was my evil genius. Years ago, in Syria, I joined the Ismailians as an Associate. I was a student of the occult, you understand. Their aim at the time was harmless enough: the overthrow of Islam, and the pursuit of mystic speculations. For centuries the order has had no secular significance, you comprehend. "I advanced to the rank of Initiate, then returned to France and organized a thaumaturgical society which was to carry on with the researches I had made in Syria, and in High Asia. And this was all well until fellow Ismailians came to Bayonne, one by one, and ended by converting the thaumaturgical society into a chapter of Ismailians. "Shirkuh was the chief of these, a prior. And then they reverted to the tactics of the Twelfth Century. To augment the _hasheeshin_ that they sent over, they recruited cutthroats from the underworld of Paris. Various actresses and women of the _demi-monde_ were led to believe that they had been admitted as Associates, and were set to work as spies. "There is a plot even now under way which, if successful, will upset the French colonial empire and end in a _jihad_ that will stir up the entire Moslem world. "Another chapter has been organized in Lyons, with a prior in charge; and Hassan is Grand Prior of France, acknowledging only the supreme chief in Damascus. "At all events, when I saw the political aspect of the Ismailians who had gained their foothold through my thaumaturgical society, I protested to Shirkuh--and here I am. Hot irons and other pleasant devices were to make my end most colorful." "Where," wondered Farrell, "does La Dorada fit into the picture?"