The rain was still falling, and Kara had to rub the windows free of the mist which had gathered on them to discover where he was.

From time to time he looked out as though he expected to see somebody, and then with a little smile he remembered that he had changed his original plan, and that he had fixed the waiting room of Lewes junction as his rendezvous.
Here it was that he found a little man muffled up to the ears in a big top coat, standing before the dying fire.

He started as Kara entered and at a signal followed him from the room.
The stranger was obviously not English.

His face was sallow and peaked, his cheeks were hollow, and the beard he wore was irregular-almost unkempt.
Kara led the way to the end of the dark platform, before he spoke.
"You have carried out my instructions ?" he asked brusquely.
The language he spoke was Arabic, and the other answered him in that language.
"Everything that you have ordered has been done, Effendi," he said humbly.
"You have a revolver ?" The man nodded and patted his pocket.
"Loaded ?" "Excellency," asked the other, in surprise, "what is the use of a revolver, if it is not loaded ?" "You understand, you are not to shoot this man," said Kara.

"You are merely to present the pistol.