It was late when they got to bed, but they rested well, and, after the manner of their race, fortified themselves with a good breakfast against the trials of the day, whatever these might prove to be. A few minutes before the appointed hour they quitted a _fiacre_ in the vicinity of the Rue Barbette, and at eleven o'clock Brett passed the _concierge_, whilst Fairholme took up his stand outside. The barrister was received with smiling complacence by Hussein-ul-Mulk. On this occasion he was conducted to another room of the flat, and he promptly noted that the windows looked out to the rear of the building, whereas during his previous visit he could survey the street. "This promises badly," said Brett to himself, but he betrayed not the slightest unwillingness to fall in with the arrangements made for his reception, and lounged back in a comfortable chair so easily that not even the quick-witted Turk suspected that the barrister's hip pocket contained a very serviceable revolver. Hussein-ul-Mulk commenced the conversation. "I have," he said, "a couple of friends here who are interested in the matter you were good enough to mention to me yesterday. With your permission I will introduce them," and he threw open another door with a single Turkish word which Brett imagined was an invitation to enter. Two men came from an adjoining room. They were Turks--swarthy, evil-looking customers, but well-dressed, and evidently persons of consequence in their own country. The newcomers eyed the barrister curiously, and with no very friendly intent. A brief conversation in Turkish resulted in Hussein-ul-Mulk addressing Brett. "I must apologize for the fact that my friends here only speak their native tongue. Before we proceed to business I wish to ask you a few questions." "Certainly," said Brett; "go ahead." "You mentioned to me yesterday that you had no desire to invoke the aid of the police in prosecuting the inquiry which interests you." "Quite right," said Brett. "May I ask if you have adhered to that intention?" "Absolutely." "Well, Mr.--Mr."--Hussein-ul-Mulk consulted a visiting card--"Mr. Reginald Brett, I think, is your name? It would be idle on my part to compliment you on your bravery, but it would be still more futile to attempt to conceal from you the danger of the position in which you now stand." "Sit," corrected Brett, still smiling. "Well," said the Turk, "we will not quibble about words. The fact remains, Mr. Brett, that you have needlessly thrust yourself into an enterprise of such a desperate character that all interlopers can be dealt with only in one way." "You kill them," said Brett, airily. "Yes," said the Turk, "I deeply regret to inform you that you have guessed the object of my remarks with the singular skill you have already betrayed in reaching the existing position. I can only add that I am surprised the same skill did not influence you to avoid forcing upon us the only alternative left."