The house was in an uproar. Remembering that Zalithea knew next to nothing of the language, and Safîyeh little more, it was impossible to imagine their plight. In one fact, that Zalithea was not alone, Barry found comfort. John Cumberland’s private secretary was already in touch with the police; and, as Barry came hurrying downstairs, Professor Blackwell arrived. “Cumberland!” he cried. “What’s this they tell me?” “She’s gone, Blackwell,” was the reply. “No news.” The Professor dropped into a lobby chair. “Somehow, I can’t grasp it,” he said pathetically. “If she had been alone I should have feared an accident, but as Safîyeh is with her----” “That’s what I think!” Barry interrupted eagerly. “An accident is out of the question.” “This being so,” the Professor went on, “what are we to conclude? Is Danbazzar here?” “Expected every minute,” John Cumberland replied shortly. “I naturally ’phoned there first, as she is used to visiting him.” “She had not been there?” John Cumberland shook his head. “Tell him what happened last night, Barry,” he said, and hurried away. Barry, hoping against hope that something in the occurrences of the night might suggest to the scientific brain of Professor Blackwell a clue to Zalithea’s motive, gave him an account of the matter. At last: “It may be some primitive reaction,” the Professor murmured. “The psychology of Zalithea is of course an unknown quantity.” “You think she is frightened and so has run away?” “Frankly, I don’t know what to think.” “I can’t believe she would voluntarily leave the house,” Barry declared. “Just think. Where could she possibly go to?” Professor Blackwell shook his head. “That is a question I cannot pretend to answer.” At this moment Danbazzar arrived. As the door was opened he came into the lobby, a big, dominating figure. But his stock was not quite so perfectly knotted as usual, and his strange eyes held a very wild light. “Still no news?” he asked. The blank faces about him were sufficient answer. “Have her apartments been searched to make sure there’s nothing there?” Aunt Micky, very stern-faced, came downstairs. “I have searched thoroughly,” she answered. “But it might be as well if you looked, also.” Danbazzar bowed and walked upstairs. Barry followed. In the suite of apartments which had been furnished for the use of Zalithea, a very faint perfume lingered. It caught Barry by the throat. It spoke to him intimately. It was as though he had buried his face in her fragrant hair; as though she were in his arms again. The rooms were strangely appointed. They were scantily furnished in the Eastern manner, with little inlaid tables and cabinets, and many richly cushioned divans. Perforated silver lamps concealed the electric lights, and the windows were screened with _mushrabiyeh_ work. The bedroom struck a more Western note, being equipped with a wonderful dressing table possessing wing mirrors and laden with every imaginable luxury of Paris.