There was no evidence of disorder or of hasty departure. The bleak chamber adjoining in which the old Arab woman spent a great part of her days afforded no better evidence. Danbazzar crossed to a window and threw back the near-by _mushrabiyeh_ screen. For a long time he stood there, looking out. CHAPTER XXIX. THE HIEROGLYPHIC LETTER A period of anxiety now commenced to which it seemed impossible to imagine any end other than the return of Zalithea. The idea that he should never see her again was one that Barry simply could not contemplate. The mystery of her disappearance baffled all conjecture. Short of the theory of drowning both in the case of Zalithea and of Safîyeh, no feasible explanation presented itself. At John Cumberland’s urgently expressed wish publicity was for long avoided. But neither police headquarters nor the private experts employed on the case could offer any hypothesis covering the facts. Since Zalithea spoke no English and her companion very little, it was difficult to imagine how they could have gone far without attracting attention. Further, it appeared that neither had any money, beyond, possibly, some small change. To Barry, every waking hour seemed like a week. He had fits of anger during which he bitterly reproached the girl for the pain which she was inflicting. Then, his mood changing, he would mourn her as dead. Every time the ’phone bell rang his heart leaped wildly. Hope and fear alternately gripped him, threatening to drive him mad. Secrecy at last became impossible, if not unwise. “There’s only one theory that covers all the facts,” said the detective in charge of the inquiry. “They must be in hiding; either because they want to hide for some reason, or because they are being detained.” “Detained!” cried John Cumberland. “By whom? For what purpose?” “Well,” was the reply, “such things have happened before, you know. It may develop into a demand for ransom. But my point is this: apart from the fact that the lady’s disappearance is beginning to be talked about, we are neglecting a very valuable weapon, in a case of this kind, by avoiding publicity.” “I agree with you,” Barry said. “If these two are hiding somewhere,” the detective went on, “offer of a big reward will tempt someone to give them away. If they’ve been kidnapped, offer of a reward is what the kidnappers are waiting for. I know it’s going to make things mighty unpleasant for you, and you’re in no sort of humour to be badgered by newspaper reporters. But it’s all that’s left. The cat’s out of the bag, anyway. Hundreds of people know. You might as well tell the world.” Reluctantly, sick at heart, John Cumberland consented. The notoriety which he knew must follow was appalling to his sensitive nature. But anything that might lead to the recovery of Zalithea he was prepared to face.