“This is no time for drink,” snapped the Armenian. “The night is dwindling--and how can I desist from killing him when, as I have told you, I cannot get into her room without awaking him? And it stands to reason that as soon as I see him I shall also see red, and kill--as I must, by reason of my vow and by order of the Dashnakists. As I have told you, I would have preferred to have got Anaïs out of the house first, but that seems impossible....” Tarlyon opened his mouth and closed it. I knew what was passing in Tarlyon’s mind, and I thought I would let it pass, so that he might think again. But then he re-opened his mouth, and this is what he said: “My friend and I,” he said, “might perhaps consider giving you a little assistance, if in return you gave us a promise----” “I promise nothing!” “Drat the boy!” said Tarlyon. “What I wish to point out is that, if my friend and I help you to get your sister out of that house, you must drop this killing business. We will contrive some way of keeping His Excellency quiet while you rescue your sister--but you must give us your word of honour, or some efficient substitute, that you will not come back and murder the wretched Pasha. Now, I want no back-chat about it--either you will or you will not.” “But I am bound to the Dashnakists!” cried the Armenian; rather regretfully, I thought. “Blast the Dashnakists!” said Tarlyon. “Yes or no?” “I promise,” said the Armenian suddenly. My native common sense now got the better of me. “You seem to take it for granted that we just walk into the house. How do we get in?” “This cuts windows like a knife,” said the Armenian, showing us in the palm of his hands a glittering little thing like a toy dagger. “An Argentine invention.” “The matter will be further facilitated,” said Tarlyon, “by our first getting my car, which is opposite Claridge’s, and driving in it to the front door. My reason for this step is that no policeman would dare suspect anything wrong in a house while a Rolls-Royce is standing outside it. Especially, Ralph, when your manly appearance is decorating the driving-seat....” “I shall be in the house,” I said firmly. Not that I wanted to be--but one always says those things, and one always says them firmly. “Perhaps that would be better,” said the Armenian. “It will certainly take the two of you to keep His Excellency quiet while I break in the first locked door I see and get Anaïs. And a Rolls-Royce car is, I understand, even more impressive empty than when some one is in it--people make it seem possible.” III We got the car and drove bravely to the house. We passed two policemen at the corner of Davies Street, but they were not interested in us. I must say burglary is easy when one has a large and rich car to do it from.... Like all Mayfair houses, this had a tradesmen’s entrance; through a little gate on the right of the few steps to the front door, down some steps, and into a little area where was the kitchen door and a window.