He took Eileen's arm, and turned to force a way through the strangely silent group about. But the aged porter seized the hem of the girl's white skirt, gently detaining her. As he rose upon his knees, Mohammed, with marks of unusual deference, handed him his green turban. The old man, still clutching Eileen's dress, signed that his dirty bundle should likewise be passed to him. This was done. Graham was impatient to get away. But---- "Humour him for a moment, dear," said Eileen softly. "We don't want to hurt the poor old fellow's feelings." Into the bundle the old man plunged his hand, and drew out a thin gold chain upon which hung a queerly cut turquoise. He stood upright, raised the piece of jewellery to his forehead and to his lips, and held it out, the chain stretched across his open palms, to Eileen. "He must be some kind of pedlar," said Graham. Eileen shook her head, smiling. "Mohammed, tell him that I cannot possibly take his chain," she directed. "But thank him all the same, of course." Mohammed, his face averted from the statuesque old figure, bent to her ear. "Take it!" he whispered. "Take it! Do not refuse!" There was a sort of frightened urgency in his tones, so that both Graham and his wife looked at him curiously. "Take it, then, Eileen," said Graham quickly. "And, Mohammed, you must find out who he is, and we will make it up to him in some way." "Yes, yes, Effendi," agreed the man readily. Eileen accordingly accepted the present, glancing aside at her husband to intimate that they must not fail to pay for it. As she took the chain in her hands, the donor said something in a low voice. "Hang it round your neck," translated Mohammed. Eileen did so, whispering: "You must not lose sight of him, Mohammed." Mohammed nodded; and the old man, replacing his turban and making a low obeisance, spoke rapidly a few words, took up his bundle, and departed. The silent bystanders made way for him. "Come on," said Graham; "I am anxious to get out of this. Find a carriage, Mohammed. We'll lunch at Shepheard's." A carriage was obtained, and they soon left far behind them the scene of this odd adventure. With Mohammed perched up on the box, Graham and his wife could discuss the episode without restraint. Graham, however, did most of the talking, for Eileen was strangely silent. "It is quite a fine stone," he said, examining the necklace so curiously acquired. "We must find some way of repaying the old chap which will not offend his susceptibilities." Eileen nodded absently; and her husband, with his eyes upon the dainty white figure, found gratitude for her safety welling up like a hot spring in his heart. The action had been characteristic; and he longed to reprove her for risking her life, yet burned to take her in his arms for the noble impulse that had prompted her to do so. He wondered anxiously if her silence could be due to the after-effects of that moment of intense excitement.