you with our presence at this moment. Of a truth, in short, I mean the loans upon your treasure-chamber. You have proclaimed the door impenetrable, with good reason, having sought in vain for some one who could open it. We have such a man; we wish him to try his skill."
The Pasha coughed uneasily. "The door cannot be conquered," he said curtly. "Have we not proven this? Why let him tamper with it? He will only meet with failure."
"But we risk nothing, and we lose nothing; yet, if the unexpected should happen, we gain much."
"It is foolishness."
"Not at all. We have requested. If you do not meet with our suggestion, we will command. In sooth, it seems you do not wish the door unlocked."
"You judge me wrongly, Sahib," the Pasha hastened to say. "I do indeed. Nothing would give me greater pleasure."
For a moment he appeared wrapped in thought, then, evidently concluding that the newcomer would be as unsuccessful as the old, he said with alacrity, "Come, I will lead you to the door at once, and he can test his skill against this stubborn lock."
As he spoke he parted the portières and led the way to the cellar of the house. It was very dark and he lighted an oil lamp.
"Here is the door," he announced presently, and turning to Anniston, he continued coldly, "we will watch your progress in this undertaking."
The American made no rely, but striding over to
