"There are difficulties," he replied, "and if the theft is not to be proclaimed to the world, there is no time to be lost. This is my proposal: Return to the woman Sháhmarâh, and acquaint her with the fact that the sacred veil has been traced to her abode and her death decided upon by the Grand Mufti if it be not given up. Force the merchant Ali Mohammed to return the money received by him, using the same threat--which will prove a talisman of power. Return to the infidel woman the full amount; I will make good your commission, to which, if you be successful, I will add two hundred pounds." I performed some rapid thinking. "You must give me a little time to consider this matter," I said. Abû Tabâh graciously inclined his head. "On Tuesday next a company of holy men who have journeyed hither from Ispahân, go to view this relic; you have therefore five days to act." "And if I decline?" Abû Tabâh shrugged his shoulders. "The loss must be made known--it would be a great scandal; the merchant Ali Mohammed, and the woman, Sháhmarâh, must be arrested--very undesirable; _you_ must be arrested--most undesirable; and your banking account will be poorer by three hundred pounds." "Frightfully undesirable," I declared. "But suppose I strike the first blow and give you in charge of the police here and now?" "You may try the experiment," he said. I waved my hand in the direction of the door (I had reasons for remaining in bed). "_Ma'salâma!_ (Good-bye)," I said. "Don't stay to restore the room to order. I shall expect you early in the morning. You will find the door of the hotel open any time after eight and I can highly recommend it as a mode of entrance." Having saluted me with both hands, Abû Tabâh made his stately departure, leaving me much exercised in mind as to how he proposed to account to the _bowwab_ for his sudden appearance in the building. This, however, was no affair of mine, and, first reclosing the window, I unfastened from around my left ankle the sandalwood box and the ring which I had bound there by a piece of tape--a device to which I owed their preservation from the subtle fingers of Abû Tabâh. Furthermore, to their presence there I owed my having awakened when I did. I am persuaded that the mysterious Egyptian's passes would have continued to keep me in a profound sleep had it not been for the pain occasioned by the pressure of the tape. Opening the sandalwood box, and then the silver one which it enclosed, I re-examined the really wonderful specimen of embroidery whereof they formed the reliquary. The _burko_ was of Tussur silk, its texture so fine that the whole veil, which was some four feet long by two wide, might have been passed through the finger ring and would readily be concealed in the palm of the hand.