"Very good," I said, when this precious document had been completed. "You understand that you will now accompany me to the central police station in the Place Bâb el-Khalk and sign this confession in the presence of suitable witnesses? You will doubtless be detained; therefore in the interests of your safety, we must arrange that Mizmûna be hidden securely until the case is settled. Oh! set your evil mind at rest! I shall not betray you to the Sheikh; unless--" I looked him squarely in the eyes--"any whisper of my name appears in this matter!" "But where is she?" he said hoarsely. "She is hiding in the adjoining house." "I have a small place at Shubra where I can conceal her." "Very well. I will bring her here and permit you to make suitable arrangements, but let them be complete; for if Ismail should find the girl and thus discover your identity, nothing could save you--and you will be unable to leave Cairo (I shall see to that) until the case is settled." VI It was on the following evening, as I sat smoking upon the terrace of the hotel and reflecting upon the execrably bad luck which pursued me, that I observed Abû Tabâh mounting the carpeted steps with slow and stately carriage. He saluted me gravely and accepted the seat which I offered him. My plan had run smoothly; Malaglou had given himself up to the authorities, but had been released upon payment of a substantial bail. Mizmûna was concealed at Shubra, and I was flogging my brain in a vain endeavor to conjure up a plan whereby, without betraying the villainous Greek and thus causing him to betray _me_, I might secure the Sheikh's reward--or, at least, the lapis armlet. "Alas," said Abû Tabâh, "that the wicked should prosper." "To whose prosperity," I inquired, "do you more especially refer?" He regarded me with his fine melancholy eyes. "You have an English adage," he continued, "which says, 'set a thief to catch a thief.'" "Quite so. But might I inquire what bearing this crystallized wisdom has upon our present conversation?" "The man, Joseph Malaglou," he replied, "learning of the hue-and-cry after a certain missing damsel----" I remember I was about to light a cigar as he uttered those words, but a dawning perception of the iniquitous truth crept poisonously into my mind, and I threw both cigar and matches over the rail into the Shâra Kâmel and clutched fiercely at the little table between us. "And of the reward offered for her recovery," pursued the _imám_, "denounced to us, one Yûssuf of Rosetta, a man owning a small house at Shubra. Yûssuf had fled, and the only occupant of the place was the missing damsel Mizmûna. Alas that fortune should so favor the sinful. The abductor, the despoiler, escapes retribution; and the traitor, the informer, the dealer in _hashish_ is rewarded."