For one thing, it's blue metallic ink.
Feisul's private letters are all written with indelible black stuff made
from pellets that I gave him; they're imported from the States."
"But if Feisul wanted to prove an alibi, he naturally wouldn't use his
special private ink," objected Mabel.
"Then why his seal, and his special private notepaper? However, there's
another point. Feisul writes the purest kind of Arabic, and this isn't
that sort of Arabic. It was written by a foreigner--perhaps a
Frenchman--possibly an Armenian--most likely a Turk--certainly one of
the outer ring of politicians who have access to Feisul and seek to
control him, but are not really in his confidence. Damascus is simply a
network of spies of that kind--men who attached themselves to the Arab
cause when it looked like winning and are now busy transferring their
allegiance.
"I think I could name the man who wrote this; I think I know the man
who wrote that magnifique. If I'm right, Yussuf Dakmar will notify the
French tonight through their agents in Jerusalem. The man who wrote
that magnifique will know before morning that the letter's missing; and
it doesn't matter how careful I may be, it'll be known as soon as I
start for Damascus.
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