“You are too late, my friend,” I said. “Omar of Ispahân has outwitted you.”
“Omar of Ispahân has outwitted men wiser than I,” he replied gravely; “but covetousness is a treacherous master, and I am not without hope that we may yet circumvent the father of thieves.”
“You are surely jesting,” I replied. “In all probability he is now far from Cairo.”
“I, on the contrary, have reason to believe,” replied Abû Tabâh calmly, “that he is neither far from Cairo, far from the hotel, nor far from this very apartment.”
His manner was strange and I discovered excitement to be growing within me.
“Accompany me on the balcony,” he said; “but first extinguish the light.”
A moment later I stood looking down upon the moon-bathed gardens, and Abû Tabâh, beside me, stretched out his hand.
“You see the projecting portion of the building yonder?”
“Yes,” I replied; “the Harêm Suite.”