THE FORTIETH DOOR by MARY HASTINGS BRADLEY AUTHOR OF _The Wine of Astonishment_, etc. 1920 TO ARTHUR MILLS CORWIN CONTENTS CHAPTER I. A RASH PROMISE II. MASKS AND MASKERS III. IN THE PASHA'S PALACE IV. EXPLANATIONS V. AT THE GARDEN GATE VI. A SECRET OF THE SANDS VII. TO McLEAN'S ASTONISHMENT VIII. TEWFICK RECEIVES IX. A WEDDING PRESENT X. THE RECEPTION XI. THE FORTY DOORS XII. THE UNINVITED GUEST XIII. THE BEY RETURNS XIV. WITHIN THE WALLS XV. UNDERGROUND XVI. OUT OF THE DARKNESS XVII. AZIZA XVIII. AZIZA IS OFFENDED XIX. AN INTERRUPTION XX. BEYOND THE DOOR XXI. MISS JEFFRIES MAKES A CALL XXII. FROM THE BAZAARS XXIII. IN THE DESERT XXIV. THE TOMB OF A KING XXV. IN CAIRO XXVI. THE PAINTED CASE CHAPTER I A RASH PROMISE He didn't want to go. He loathed the very thought of it. Every flinching nerve in him protested. A masked ball--a masked ball at a Cairo hotel! Grimacing through peep-holes, self-conscious advances, flirtations ending in giggles! Tourists as nuns, tourists as Turks, tourists as God-knows-what, all preening and peacocking! Unhappily he gazed upon the girl who was proposing this horror as a bright delight. She was a very engaging girl--that was the mischief of it. She stood smiling there in the bright, Egyptian sunshine, gay confidence in her gray eyes. He hated to shatter that confidence. And he had done little enough for her during her stay in Cairo. One tea at the Gezireh Palace Hotel, one trip to the Sultan al Hassan Mosque, one excursion through the bazaars--not exactly an orgy of entertainment for a girl from home! He had evaded climbing the Pyramids and fled from the ostrich farm. He had withheld from inviting her to the camp on the edge of the Libyan desert where he was excavating, although her party had shown unmistakable signs of a willingness to be diverted from the beaten path of its travel. And he was not calling on her now. He had come to Cairo for supplies and she had encountered him by chance upon a corner of the crowded Mograby, and there promptly she had invited him to to-night's ball. "But it's not my line, you know, Jinny," he was protesting. "I'm so fearfully out of dancing--" "More reason to come, Jack. You need a change from digging up ruins all the time--it must be frightfully lonely out there on the desert. I can't think how you stand it." Jack Ryder smiled. There was no mortal use in explaining to Jinny Jeffries that his life on the desert was the only life in the world, that his ruins held more thrills than all the fevers of her tourist crowds, and that he would rather gaze upon the mummied effigy of any lady of the dynasty of Amenhotep than upon the freshest and fairest of the damsels of the present day.