“The kavass seated himself at my side, and we drove up and down many dark, ill-lit streets, where the scavenger dogs were howling, until we suddenly came out in view of the Bosphorus, that lay fairy-like beneath the full Eastern moon.
“Nicholas, the kavass, was from Cettinje, he told me, and when we began to talk, I discovered that his brother Mirko had been my servant on a journey through Albania two years before.
”‘What! Gospodin!’ cried the big mountaineer, grasping my hand and wringing it warmly. ‘Are you really the Gospodin Martin? I was in Cettinje last summer, and my dear old father spoke of you! I have to thank you. It was you who brought the English doctor to him and saved his life. Fancy that we should meet here, and to-night!’
”‘Why to-night?’
“The big fellow was silent. His manner had entirely changed.
“Suddenly he said: ‘Gospodin, you are going to the house of Mehmed Zekki and—’
”‘Zekki!’ I gasped. ‘Then I was not mistaken when I thought I saw him. He had followed us.’
”‘Ah! Gospodin! Have a care of yourself! Take this, in case—in case you may require it,’ he said, and pulling from his sash one of his loaded revolvers, he handed it to me.
”‘But you said that mademoiselle had sent you for me?’ I remarked surprised.
”‘I was told to say that, Gospodin. I know nothing of mademoiselle.’