“Correct.”
“Do you think you know the voice?”
“Jove! now, I wouldn’t swear to it, but, somehow, it put me in mind of—Dorothy.”
“Just as I thought. She is here. In spite of her father’s precautions they have inveigled her to the spider’s web.” And filled with a new spirit of alarm, the young Canadian again begins to glance at each person near by, as though he suspects the speculator’s lovely daughter would come here in the disguise of an old woman with bonnet and blue glasses, or a dashing sport swinging a delicate cane and wearing eye-glasses.
In the midst of his dilemma he again hears his name called:
“Oh, Mr. Craig! look this way. I am in this little shop. I wish to speak to you. At first I dared not, but I saw my father enter there and as my necessity grew greater my courage arose. I need a friend’s advice. Will you give it to me?”
Before half of this speech is finished Aleck has fastened his eyes upon the speaker. The little shop is dim, and he can only see that it is a female form, for a heavy veil conceals the face.
Instantly Craig remembers what was said by Happy Jack concerning the hatred of Aroun Scutari for him, on account of the interference with his plans, in connection with the strange Ferris wheel game, and that should the opportunity offer he has a rod in pickle for the Canadian.
He has read of the ancient Circe, the stories of mythical mermaids who sang so sweetly to mariners of old, and, strange as it may appear, these things flash into his mind now.
Can it be a trap? Have his enemies arranged a nice little web to entangle the Canadian fly?