The House of the Falcon
very much of a gentleman. He will follow you. Oh, I hope"
She broke off, at a strange light in the man's amber eyes.
"Donovan Khan? Donovan. By all the images of the Church! Not Captain John Campbell Donovan?" His hard eyes read her easily. "Captain Donovan—in Yakka Arik, alive."
For a moment he considered this, intently. Then he laughed.
"Why, it is fate itself, my beautiful lady. No, not that. It is my luck, my good luck. So, you found a lover waiting in that Sayak pesthole?"
Edith had mastered her impulse of anger as quickly as it came. She wrapped her arms in the end of the shawl, seating herself on the box, her back to Monsey.
"A beggarly Englishman, with a brown beard? The Falcon, as the Sayaks name him? Yes, that is Donovan, who is a leader of these assassins, a renegade, outcast from the British army"
"I don't believe you!"
"Presently, you will believe." Somewhat uncertainly he studied her, wondering at the change in the girl since Srinagar. "Look here, my fine lady, you can't afford to quarrel with me! Have not I said that Arthur Rand sent me? You choose not to believe? Very well! I have made it known in Kashgar, and the Sayak spies have carried the news that I am your friend to their murderers' nest. So, you will see how Donovan and his allies conduct themselves against the agent of your American father."
Edith shook her head mutely, her faith in Donovan strong within her; but Monsey smiled.
"My luck holds. A few hours and we will see the
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