The Quest of the Sacred Slipper

by Sax Rohmer

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE LIGHT OF EL-MEDINEH

  Bristol and I walked slowly in the direction of the entrance of theBritish Antiquarian Museum. It was the day following upon thesensational scene in my chambers.

  "There's very little doubt," said Bristol, "that Earl Dexter hasthe slipper and that Hassan of Aleppo knows where Dexter is inhiding. I don't know which of the two is more elusive. Hassanapparently melted into thin air yesterday; and although The StetsonMan has never within my experience employed disguises, no one hasset eyes upon him since the night that he vanished from his lodgingsoff the Waterloo Road. It's always possible for a man to bafflethe police by remaining closely within doors, but during all thetime that has elapsed Dexter must have taken a little exerciseoccasionally, and the missing hand should have betrayed him."

  "The wonder to me is," I replied, "that he has escaped death at thehands of the Hashishin. He is a supremely daring man, for I shouldthink that he must be carrying the slipper of the Prophet aboutwith him!"

  "I would rather he did it than I!" commented Bristol. "For sheeraudacity commend me to The Stetson Man! His idea no doubt was touse you as intermediary in his negotiations with the Museumauthorities, but that plan failing, he has written them direct,thoughtfully omitting his address, of course!"

  We were, in fact, at that moment bound for the Museum to inspectthis latest piece of evidence.

  "The crowning example of the man's audacity and cleverness," addedmy companion, "is his having actually approached Hassan of Aleppowith a similar proposition! How did he get in touch with him? AllScotland Yard has failed to find any trace of that weird character!"

  "Birds of a feather--" I suggested.

  "But they are not birds of a feather!" cried Bristol. "On your ownshowing, Hassan of Aleppo is simply waiting his opportunity tobalance Dexter's account forever! I always knew Dexter was a cleverman; I begin to think he's the most daring genius alive!"

  We mounted the steps of the Museum. In the hallway Mostyn, thecurator, awaited us. Having greeted Bristol and myself he led theway to his private office, and from a pigeon-hole in his desk tookout a letter typewritten upon a sheet of quarto paper.

  Bristol spread it out upon the blotting pad and we bent over itcuriously.

  SIR--

  I believe I can supply information concerning the whereabouts ofthe missing slipper of Mohammed. As any inquiry of this naturemust be extremely perilous to the inquirer and as the relic is apriceless one, my fee would be 10,000 pounds. The fanatics whoseek to restore the slipper to the East must not know of anynegotiations, therefore I omit my address, but will communicatefurther if you care to insert instructions in the agony columnof Times.

  Faithfully, EARL DEXTER

  Bristol laughed grimly.

  "It's a daring game," he said; "a piece of barefaced impudence quitecharacteristic.

  "He's posing as a sort of private detective now, and is prepared fora trifling consideration to return the slipper which he stolehimself! He must know, though, that we have his severed hand atthe Yard to be used in evidence against him."

  "Is the Burton Room open to the public again?" I asked Mostyn.

  "It is open, yes," he replied, "and a quite unusual number ofvisitors come daily to gaze at the empty case which once held theslipper of the Prophet."

  "Has the case been mended?"

  "Yes; it is quite intact again; only the exhibit is missing."

  We ascended the stairs, passed along the Assyrian Room, which seemedto be unusually crowded, and entered the lofty apartment known asthe Burton Room. The sunblinds were drawn, and a sort of dim,religious light prevailed therein. A group of visitors stood aroundan empty case at the farther end of the apartment.

  "You see," said Mostyn, pointing, "that empty case has a greaterattraction than all the other full ones!"

  But I scarcely heeded his words, for I was intently watching themovements of one of the group about the empty case. I have saidthat the room was but dimly illuminated, and this fact, togetherno doubt with some effect of reflected light, enhanced by myimagination, perhaps produced the phenomenon which was occasioningme so much amazement.

  Remember that my mind was filled with memories of weird things,that I often found myself thinking of that mystic light whichHassan of Aleppo had called the light of El-Medineh--that lightwhereby, undeterred by distance, he claimed to be able to trace thewhereabouts of any of the relics of the Prophet.

  Bristol and Mostyn walked on then; but I stood just within thedoorway, intently, breathlessly watching an old man wearing anout-of-date Inverness coat and a soft felt hat. He had a graybeard and moustache, and long, untidy hair, walked with a stoop,and in short was no unusual type of Visitor to that institution.

  But it seemed to me, and the closer I watched him the moreconvinced I became, that this was no optical illusion, that a faintluminosity, a sort of elfin light, played eerily about his head!

  As Bristol and Mostyn approached the case the old man began to walktoward me and in the direction of the door. The idea flashedthrough my mind that it might be Hassan of Aleppo himself, Hassanwho had predicted that the stolen slipper should that day bereturned to the Museum!

  Then he came abreast of me, passed me, and I felt that mysurmise had been wrong. I saw Bristol, from farther up the room,turn and look back. Something attracted his trained eye, I suppose,which was not perceptible to me. But he suddenly came stridingalong. Obviously he was pursuing the old man, who was just aboutto leave the apartment. Seeing that the latter had reached thedoorway, Bristol began to run.

  The old man turned; and amid a chorus of exclamations from theastonished spectators, Bristol sprang upon him!

  How it all came about I cannot say, cannot hope to describe; butthere was a short, sharp scuffle, the crack of a well-directedblow ... and Bristol was rolling on his back, the old man,hatless, was racing up the Assyrian Room, and everyone in the placeseemed to be shouting at once!

  Bristol, with blood streaming from his face, staggered to his feet,clutching at me for support.

  "After him, Mr. Cavanagh!" he cried hoarsely. "It's your turnto-day! After him! That's Earl Dexter!"

  Mostyn waited for no more, but went running quickly through theAssyrian Room. I may mention here that at the head of the stairshe found the caped Inverness which had served to conceal Dexter'smutilated arm, and later, behind a piece of statuary, a wig anda very ingenious false beard and moustache were discovered. Butof The Stetson Man there was no trace. His brief start had enabledhim to make good his escape.

  As Mostyn went off, and a group of visitors flocked in ourdirection, Bristol, who had been badly shaken by the blow, turnedto them.

  "You will please all leave the Burton Room immediately," he said.

  Looks of surprise greeted his words; but with his handkerchiefraised to his face, he peremptorily repeated them. The officialnote in his voice was readily to be detected; and the wonder-strickengroup departed with many a backward glance.

  As the last left the Burton Room, Bristol pointed, with a rathershaky finger, at the soft felt hat which lay at his feet. It hadformed part of Dexter's disguise. Close beside it lay anotherobject which had evidently fallen from the hat--a dull red thinglying on the polished parquet flooring.

  "For God's sake don't go near it!" whispered Bristol. "The roommust be closed for the present. And now I'm off after that man.Step clear of it."

  His words were unnecessary; I shunned it as a leprous thing.

  It was the slipper of the Prophet!