Page:Vance--Terence O'Rourke.djvu/288

 "It is a subject not too easy to approach," she confessed at length. "What service you may do me—it is a difficult thing to ask of you."

He marked her accent as of weariness.

"Ye have not asked it," he suggested gently. "Faith, I'm ready."

"You are a man, brave, straightforward, monsieur. I—I have a woman's love of the subtle. I—do not misunderstand my motive, I beg of you—I have coaxed you hither that you might escape a—a dreadful fate, monsieur. I— Ah! if only I knew what it were best to do!"

"Faith!" he muttered. "'Tis the O'Rourke who'd like to advise ye. But ye speak of matters quite too far removed from me knowledge."

She turned to face him abruptly, resolution large in her eyes.

"It is this, then," she said swiftly; "by chance I have learned that you are to be assassinated."

O'Rourke whistled softly.

"You will not be permitted to leave Cairo alive," she added.

O'Rourke sat down on the tabouret and eyed her with growing admiration.

"Had you remained at Shepheard's this night, monsieur, and either attempted to leave Cairo in the morning, or—or to communicate with the authorities—you would have died."

"Sure, now," O'Rourke admitted, "this is interesting. Yes."

He bent his gaze to the tip of his polished shoe, puckered his lips, whistled a little inaudible tune. The woman watched him impatiently, tapping the rug with the toe of her slipper. O'Rourke came out of his brown study with a suppressed chuckle. She started, looking her surprise.