



Produced by Janet Kegg and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net








The PALACE of DARKENED WINDOWS

By
MARY HASTINGS BRADLEY

AUTHOR OF "THE FAVOR OF KINGS"


ILLUSTRATED BY EDMUND FREDERICK


NEW YORK AND LONDON
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1914


  [Frontispiece illustration: "'It is no use,' he repeated.
  'There is no way out for you.'" (Chapter IV)]



TO
MY HUSBAND



CONTENTS


CHAPTER
      I. THE EAVESDROPPER
     II. THE CAPTAIN CALLS
    III. AT THE PALACE
     IV. A SORRY QUEST
      V. WITHIN THE WALLS
     VI. A GIRL IN THE BAZAARS
    VII. BILLY HAS HIS DOUBTS
   VIII. THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR
     IX. A DESPERATE GAME
      X. A MAID AND A MESSAGE
     XI. OVER THE GARDEN WALL
    XII. THE GIRL FROM THE HAREM
   XIII. TAKING CHANCES
    XIV. IN THE ROSE ROOM
     XV. ON THE TRAIL
    XVI. THE HIDDEN GIRL
   XVII. AT BAY
  XVIII. DESERT MAGIC
    XIX. THE PURSUIT
     XX. A FRIEND IN NEED
    XXI. CROSS PURPOSES
   XXII. UPON THE PYLON
  XXIII. THE BETTER MAN




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


"'It is no use,' he repeated. 'There is no way out for you'"
    _Frontispiece_

"'I do not want to stay here'"

"He found himself staring down into the bright dark eyes of a girl
    he had never seen"

"Billy went to the mouth, peering watchfully out"




THE PALACE OF DARKENED WINDOWS



CHAPTER I

THE EAVESDROPPER


A one-eyed man with a stuffed crocodile upon his head paused before
the steps of Cairo's gayest hotel and his expectant gaze ranged
hopefully over the thronged verandas. It was afternoon tea time; the
band was playing and the crowd was at its thickest and brightest.
The little tables were surrounded by travelers of all nations, some
in tourist tweeds and hats with the inevitable green veils; others,
those of more leisurely sojourns, in white serges and diaphanous
frocks and flighty hats fresh from the Rue de la Paix.

It was the tweed-clad groups that the crocodile vender scanned for a
purchaser of his wares and harshly and unintelligibly exhorted to
buy, but no answering gaze betokened the least desire to bring back
a crocodile to the loved ones at home. Only Billy B. Hill grinned
delightedly at him, as Billy grinned at every merry sight of the
spectacular East, and Billy shook his head with cheerful
convincingosity, so the crocodile merchant moved reluctantly on
before the importunities of the Oriental rug peddler at his heels.

Then he stopped. His turbaned head, topped by the grotesque,
glassy-eyed, glistening-toothed monster, revolved slowly as the
Arab's single eye steadily followed a couple who passed by him up
the hotel steps. Billy, struck by the man's intense interest, craned
forward and saw that one of the couple, now exchanging farewells at
the top of the steps, was a girl, a pretty girl, and an American,
and the other was an officer in a uniform of considerable green and
gold, and obviously a foreigner.

He might be any kind of a foreigner, according to Billy's lax
distinctions, that was olive of complexion and very black of hair
and eyes. Slender and of medium height, he carried himself with an
assurance that bordered upon effrontery, and as he bowed himself
down the steps he flashed upon his former companion a smile of
triumph that included and seemed to challenge the verandaful of
observers.

The girl turned and glanced casually about at the crowded groups
that were like little samples of all the nations of the earth, and
with no more than a faint awareness of the battery of eyes upon her
she passed toward the tables by the railing. She was a slim little
fairy of a girl, as fresh as a peach blossom, with a cloud of pale
gold hair fluttering round her pretty face, which lent her a most
alluring and deceptive appearance of ethereal mildness. She had a
soft, satiny, rose-leaf skin which was merely flushed by the heat of
the Egyptian day, and her eyes were big and very, very blue. There
were touches of that blue here and there upon her creamy linen suit,
and a knot of blue upon her parasol and a twist of blue about her
Panama hat, so that she could not be held unconscious of the
flagrantly bewitching effect. Altogether she was as upsettingly
pretty a young person as could be seen in a year's journey, and the
glances of the beholders brightened vividly at her approach.

There was one conspicuous exception. This exception was sitting
alone at the large table which backed Billy's tiny table into a
corner by the railing, and as the girl arrived at that large table
the exception arose and greeted her with an air of glacial chill.

"Oh! Am I so terribly late?" said the girl with great pleasantness,
and arched brows of surprise at the two other places at the table
before which used tea things were standing.

"My sister and Lady Claire had an appointment, so they were obliged
to have their tea and leave," stated the young man, with an air of
politely endeavoring to conceal his feelings, and failing
conspicuously in the endeavor. "They were most sorry."

"Oh, so am I!" declared the girl, in clear and contrite tones which
carried perfectly to Billy B. Hill's enchanted ears. "I never
dreamed they would have to hurry away."

"They did not hurry, as you call it," and the young man glanced at
his watch, "for nearly an hour. It was a disappointment to them."

"Pin-pate!" thought Billy, with intense disgust. "Is he kicking at a
two-some?"

"And have you had your tea, too?" inquired the girl, with an air of
tantalizing unconcern.

"I waited, naturally, for my guest."

"Oh, not _naturally_!" she laughed. "It must be very unnatural for
you to wait for anything. And you must be starving. So am I--do you
think there are enough cakes left for the two of us?"

Without directly replying, the young man gave the order to the
red-fezzed Arab in a red-girdled white robe who was removing the
soiled tea things, and he assisted the girl into a chair and sat
down facing her. Their profiles were given to the shameless Billy,
and he continued his rapt observations.

He had immediately recognized the girl as a vision he had seen
fluttering around the hotel with an incongruously dismal
couple of unyouthful ladies, and he had mentally affixed a
magnate's-only-daughter-globe-trotting-with-elderly-friends label to
her.

The young man he could not place so definitely. There were a good
many tall, aristocratic young Englishmen about, with slight stoops
and incipient moustaches. This particular Englishman had hair that
was pronouncedly sandy, and Billy suddenly recollected that in
lunching at the Savoy the other day he had noticed that young
Englishman in company with a sandy-haired lady, not so young, and a
decidedly pretty dark-haired girl--it was the girl, of course, who
had fixed the group in Billy's crowded impressions. He decided that
these ladies were the sister and Lady Claire--and Lady Claire, he
judiciously concluded, certainly had nothing on young America.

Young America was speaking. "Don't look so thunderous!" she
complained to her irate host. "How do you know I didn't plan to be
late so as to have you all to myself?"

This was too derisive for endurance. A dull red burned through the
tan on the young Englishman's cheeks and crept up to meet the
corresponding warmth of his hair. A leash within him snapped.

"It is simply inconceivable!" burst from him, and then he shut his
jaw hard, as if only one last remnant of will power kept a seething
volcano, from explosion.

"What is?"

"How any girl--in Cairo, of all places!" he continued to explode in
little snorts.

"You are speaking of--?" she suggested.

"Of your walking with that fellow--in broad daylight!"

"Would it have been better in the gloaming?"

The sweet restraint in the young thing's manner was supernatural. It
was uncanny. It should have warned the red-headed young man, but
oblivious of danger signals, he was plunging on, full steam ahead.

"It isn't as if you didn't know--hadn't been warned."

"You have been so kind," the girl murmured, and poured a cup of tea
the Arab had placed at her elbow.

The young man ignored his. The color burned hotter and hotter in his
face. Even his hair looked redder.

"The look he gave up here was simply outrageous--a grin of insolent
triumph. I'd like to have laid my cane across him!"

The girl's cup clicked against the saucer. "You are horrid!" she
declared. "When we were on shipboard Captain Kerissen was very
popular among the passengers and I talked with him whenever I cared
to. Everyone did. Now that I am in his native city I see no reason
to stalk past him when we happen to be going in the same direction.
He is a gentleman of rank, a relative of the Khedive who is ruling
this country--under your English advice--and he is----"

"A Turk!" gritted out the young man.

"A Turk and proud of it! His mother was French, however, and he was
educated at Oxford and he is as cosmopolitan as any man I ever met.
It's unusual to meet anyone so close to the reigning family, and it
gives one a wonderful insight into things off the beaten track----"

"The beaten--damn!" said the young man, and Billy's heart went out
to him. "Oh, I beg pardon, but you--he--I--" So many things occurred
to him to say at one and the same time that he emitted a snort of
warring and incoherent syllables. Finally, with supreme control, "Do
you know that your 'gentleman of rank' couldn't set foot in a
gentleman's club in this country?"

"I think it's _mean_!" retorted the girl, her blue eyes very bright
and indignant. "You English come here and look down on even the
highest members of the country you are pretending to assist. Why do
you? When he was at Oxford he went into your English homes."

"English madhouses--for admitting him."

A brief silence ensued.

The girl ate a cake. It was a nice cake, powdered with almonds, but
she ate it obliviously. The angry red shone rosily in her cheeks.

The young man took a hasty drink of his tea, which had grown cold
in its cup, and pushed it away. Obstinately he rushed on in his mad
career.

"I simply cannot understand you!" he declared.

"Does it matter?" said she, and bit an almond's head off.

"It would be bad enough, in any city, but in Cairo--! To permit him
to insult you with his company, alone, upon the streets!"

"When you have said insult you have said a little too much," she
returned in a small, cold voice of war. "Is there anything against
Captain Kerissen personally?"

"Who knows anything about any of those fellows? They are all
alike--with half a dozen wives locked up behind their barred
windows."

"He isn't married."

"How do you know?"

"I--inferred it."

The Englishman snorted: "According to his custom, you know, it isn't
the proper thing to mention his ladies in public."

"You are frightfully unjust. Captain Kerissen's customs are the
customs of the civilized world, and he is very anxious to have his
country become modernized."

"Then let him send his sisters out walking with fellow officers....
For _him_ to walk beside _you_----"

"He was following the custom of my country," said the girl, with
maddening superiority. "Since I am an _American_ girl----"

The young Englishman said a horrible thing. He said it with immense
feeling.

"American goose!" he uttered, then stopped short. Precipitately he
floundered into explanation:

"I beg your pardon, but, you know, when you say such bally nonsense
as that--! An American girl has no more business to be imprudent
than a Patagonian girl. You have no idea how these people
regard----"

"Oh, don't apologize," murmured the girl, with charming sweetness.
"I don't mind what you say--not in the least."

The outraged man was not so befuddled but what he saw those danger
signals now. They glimmered scarlet upon his vision, but his blood
was up and he plunged on to destruction with the extraordinary
remark, "But isn't there a reason why you should?"

She gazed at him in mock reflection, as if mulling this striking
thought presented for her consideration, but her eyes were too
sparkly and her cheeks too poppy-pink to substantiate the reflective
pose.

"N-no," she said at last, with an impertinent little drawl. "I can't
seem to think of any."

He did not pause for innuendo. "You mean you don't give a _piastre_
what I think?"

"Not half a _piastre_," she confirmed, in flat defiance.

The young man looked at her. He was over the brink of ruin now;
nothing remained of the interesting little affair of the past three
weeks but a mangled and lamentable wreck at the bottom of a deep
abyss.

Perhaps a shaft