"Fletcher!" I whispered, "we are on the eve of a great discovery—that girl …"
I broke off, and clutching the table with both hands, sat listening intently. From the room behind me, the opium-room, whose entrance was less than two paces from where we sat, came a sound of dragging and tapping! Slowly, cautiously, I began to turn my head; when a sudden outburst of simian chattering from the fan-tan players drowned that other sinister sound.
"You heard it, Doctor!" hissed Fletcher.
"The man with the limp!" I said hoarsely; "he is in there! Fletcher! I am utterly confused. I believe this place to hold the key to the whole mystery, I believe …"
Fletcher gave me a warning glance—and, turning anew, I saw Zarmi approaching with her sinuous gait, carrying two glasses and jug upon the ornate tray. These she set down upon the table; then stood spinning the salver cleverly upon the point of her index finger and watching us through half-closed eyes.
My companion took out some loose coins, but the girl thrust the proffered payment aside with her disengaged hand, the salver still whirling upon the upraised finger of the other.
"Presently you pay for drink," she said. "You do something for me—eh?"
"Yep," replied Fletcher nonchalantly, watering the rum in the tumblers. "What time?"
"Presently I tell you. You stay here. This one a strong feller?"— indicating myself.
"Sure," drawled Fletcher; "strong as a mule he is."