A narrow lane ran along behind the hotel, communicating with a maze of streets almost exclusively peopled by natives.
"Rob," said Dr. Cairn slowly, "it begins to dawn upon me that this is the way I came."
He stood looking to right and left, and seemed to be undecided. Then:
"We will try right," he determined.
They set off along the narrow way. Once clear of the hotel wall, high buildings rose upon either side, so that at no time during the day could the sun have penetrated to the winding lane. Suddenly Robert Cairn stopped.
"Look!" he said, and pointed. "The mosque! You spoke of a mosque near to the house?"
Dr. Cairn nodded; his eyes were gleaming, now that he felt himself to be upon the track of this great evil which had shattered his peace.
They advanced until they stood before the door of the mosque—and there in the shadow of a low archway was just such an ancient, iron-studded door as Dr. Cairn remembered! Latticed windows overhung the street above, but no living creature was in sight.
He very gently pressed upon the door, but as he had anticipated it was fastened from within. In the vague light, his face seemed strangely haggard as he turned to his son, raising his eyebrows interrogatively.
"It is just possible that I may be mistaken," he said; "so that I scarcely know what to do."