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diff --git a/old/12265-8.txt b/old/12265-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a9abd81 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12265-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14711 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flying Legion, by George Allan England + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Flying Legion + +Author: George Allan England + +Release Date: May 4, 2004 [EBook #12265] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLYING LEGION *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Bill Hershey and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +[Illustration: A HAIL OF SLUGS BOMBARDED THE VAST-SPREAD WINGS AND +FUSELAGE OF _NISSR_.] + + + + +THE FLYING LEGION + + +BY GEORGE ALLAN ENGLAND + + +Published July, 1920 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I A Spirit Caged. + + II "To Paradise--or Hell!" + + III The Gathering of the Legionaries. + + IV The Masked Recruit. + + V In the Night. + + VI The Silent Attack. + + VII The Nest of the Great Bird. + + VIII The Eagle of the Sky. + + IX Eastward Ho. + + X "I Am the Master's!" + + XI Captain Alden Stands Revealed. + + XII The Woman of Adventure. + + XIII The Enmeshing of the Master. + + XIV Storm Birds. + + XV The Battle of Vibrations. + + XVI Leclair, Ace of France. + + XVII Miracles, Scourge of Flame. + + XVIII "Captain Alden" Makes Good. + + XIX Hostile Coasts. + + XX The Waiting Menace. + + XXI Shipwreck and War. + + XXII Beleaguered. + + XXIII A Mission of Dread. + + XXIV Angels of Death. + + XXV The Great Pearl Star. + + XXVI The Sand-Devils. + + XXVII Toil and Pursuit. + + XXVIII Onward Toward the Forbidden City. + + XXIX "Labbayk!" + + XXX Over Mecca. + + XXXI East Against West. + + XXXII The Battle of the Haram. + + XXXIII The Ordeal of Rrisa. + + XXXIV The Inner Secret of Islam. + + XXXV Into the Valley of Mystery. + + XXXVI Journey's End. + + XXXVII The Greeting of Warriors. + + XXXVIII Bara Miyan, High Priest. + + XXXIX On, to the Golden City! + + XL Into the Treasure Citadel. + + XLI The Master's Price. + + XLII "Sons of the Prophet, Slay!" + + XLIII War in the Depths. + + XLIV Into the Jewel-Crypt. + + XLV The Jewel Hoard. + + XLVI Bohannan Becomes a Millionaire. + + XLVII A Way Out? + + XLVIII The River of Night. + + XLIX The Desert. + + L "Where There Is None but Allah." + + LI Torture. + + LII "Thálassa! Thálassa!" + + LIII The Greater Treasure. + +The Flying Legion + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +A SPIRIT CAGED + +The room was strange as the man, himself, who dwelt there. It seemed, +in a way, the outward expression of his inner personality. He had +ordered it built from his own plans, to please a whim of his restless +mind, on top of the gigantic skyscraper that formed part of +his properties. Windows boldly fronted all four cardinal +compass-points--huge, plate-glass windows that gave a view unequaled +in its sweep and power. + +The room seemed an eagle's nest perched on the summit of a man-made +crag. The Arabic name that he had given it--_Niss'rosh_--meant just +that. Singular place indeed, well-harmonized with its master. + +Through the westward windows, umbers and pearls of dying day, smudged +across a smoky sky, now shadowed trophy-covered walls. This light, +subdued and somber though it was, slowly fading, verging toward a +night of May, disclosed unusual furnishings. It showed a heavy black +table of some rare Oriental wood elaborately carved and inlaid with +still rarer woods; a table covered with a prayer-rug, on which lay +various books on aeronautics and kindred sciences, jostling works on +Eastern travel, on theosophy, mysticism, exploration. + +Maps and atlases added their note of research. At one end of the +table stood a bronze faun's head with open lips, with hand cupped +at listening ear. Surely that head must have come from some buried +art-find of the very long ago. The faint greenish patina that covered +it could have been painted only by the hand of the greatest artist of +them all, Time. + +A book-case occupied the northern space, between the windows. It, too, +was crammed with scientific reports, oddments of out-of-the-way lore, +and travels. But here a profusion of war-books and official documents +showed another bent of the owner's mind. Over the book-case hung two +German gasmasks. They seemed, in the half-dusk, to glower down through +their round, empty eyeholes like sinister devil-fish awaiting prey. + +The masks were flanked by rifles, bayonets, knives, maces, all bearing +scars of battle. Above them, three fragments of Prussian battle-flags +formed a kind of frieze, their color softened by the fading sunset, +even as the fading of the dream of imperial glory had dulled and +dimmed all that for which they had stood. + +The southern wall of that strange room--that quiet room to which only +a far, vague murmur of the city's life whispered up, with faint blurs +of steamer-whistles from the river--bore Turkish spoils of battle. +Here hung more rifles, there a Kurdish yataghan with two hand-grenades +from Gallipoli, and a blood-red banner with a crescent and one star +worked in gold thread. Aviator's gauntlets draped the staff of the +banner. + +Along the eastern side of this eyrie a broad divan invited one to +rest. Over it were suspended Austrian and Bulgarian captures--a lance +with a blood-stiffened pennant, a cuirass, entrenching tools, a steel +helmet with an eloquent bullet-hole through the crown. Some few framed +portraits of noted "aces" hung here and elsewhere, with two or three +photographs of battle-planes. Three of the portraits were framed in +symbolic black. Part of a smashed Taube propeller hung near. + +As for the western side of _Niss'rosh_, this space between the two +broad windows that looked out over the light-spangled city, the Hudson +and the Palisades, was occupied by a magnificent Mercator's Projection +of the world. This projection was heavily annotated with scores of +comments penciled by a firm, virile hand. Lesser spaces were occupied +by maps of the campaigns in Mesopotamia and the Holy Land. One map, +larger than any save the Mercator, showed the Arabian Peninsula. A +bold question-mark had been impatiently flung into the great, +blank stretch of the interior; a question-mark eager, impatient, +challenging. + +It was at this map that the master of _Niss'rosh_, the eagle's nest, +was peering as the curtain rises on our story. He was half reclining +in a big, Chinese bamboo chair, with an attitude of utter and +disheartening boredom. His crossed legs were stretched out, one heel +digging into the soft pile of the Tabreez rug. Muscular arms folded +in an idleness that irked them with aching weariness, he sat there, +brooding, motionless. + +Everything about the man spelled energy at bay, forces rusting, +ennui past telling. But force still dominated. Force showed in the +close-cropped, black hair and the small ears set close to the head; +in the corded throat and heavy jaws; in the well-muscled shoulders, +sinewed hands, powerful legs. This man was forty-one years old, +and looked thirty-five. Lines of chest and waist were those of the +athlete. Still, suspicions of fat, of unwonted softness, had begun to +invade those lines. Here was a splendid body, here was a dominating +mind in process of going stale. + +The face of the man was a mask of weariness of the soul, which kills +so vastly more efficiently than weariness of the body. You could see +that weariness in the tired frown of the black brows, the narrowing +of the dark eyes, the downward tug of the lips. Wrinkles of stagnation +had began to creep into forehead and cheeks--wrinkles that no amount +of gymnasium, of club life, of careful shaving, of strict hygiene +could banish. + +Through the west windows the slowly changing hues of gray, of +mulberry, and dull rose-pink blurred in the sky, cast softened lights +upon those wrinkles, but could not hide them. They revealed sad +emptiness of purpose. This man was tired unto death, if ever man were +tired. + +He yawned, sighed deeply, stretched out his hand and took up a bit +of a model mechanism from the table, where it had lain with other +fragments of apparatus. For a moment he peered at it; then he tossed +it back again, and yawned a second time. + +"Business!" he growled. "'Swapped my reputation for a song,' eh? +Where's my commission, now?" + +He got up, clasped his hands behind him, and walked a few times up and +down the heavy rug, his footfalls silent. + +"The business could have gone on without me!" he added, bitterly. +"And, after all, what's any business, compared to _life_?" + +He yawned again, stretched up his arms, groaned and laughed with +mockery: + +"A little more money, maybe, when I don't know what to do with what +I've got already! A few more figures on a checkbook--and the heart +dying in me!" + +Then he relapsed into silence. Head down, hands thrust deep in +pockets, he paced like a captured animal in bars. The bitterness +of his spirit was wormwood. What meant, to him, the interests and +pleasures of other men? Profit and loss, alcohol, tobacco, women--all +alike bore him no message. Clubs, athletics, gambling--he grumbled +something savage as his thoughts turned to such trivialities. And into +his aquiline face came something the look of an eagle, trapped, there +in that eagle's nest of his. + +Suddenly the Master of _Niss'rosh_ came to a decision. He returned, +clapped his hands thrice, sharply, and waited. Almost at once a door +opened at the southeast corner of the room--where the observatory +connected with the stairway leading down to the Master's apartment on +the top floor of the building--and a vague figure of a man appeared. + +The light was steadily fading, so that this man could by no means be +clearly distinguished. But one could see that he wore clothing quite +as conventional as his master's. Still, no more than the Master did he +appear one of life's commonplaces. Lean, brown, dry, with a hawk-nose +and glinting eyes, surely he had come from far, strange places. + +"Rrisa!" the Master spoke sharply, flinging the man's name at him with +the exasperation of overtensed nerves. + +"_M'almé?_" (Master?) replied the other. + +"Bring the evening food and drink," commanded the Master, in excellent +Arabic, guttural and elusive with strange hiatuses of breath. + +Rrisa withdrew, salaaming. His master turned toward the western +windows. There the white blankness of the map of Arabia seemed mocking +him. The Master's eyes grew hard; he raised his fist against the map, +and smote it hard. Then once more he fell to pacing; and as he walked +that weary space, up and down, he muttered to himself with words we +cannot understand. + +After a certain time, Rrisa came silently back, sliding into the soft +dusk of that room almost like a wraith. He bore a silver tray with a +hook-nosed coffee-pot of chased metal. The cover of this coffee-pot +rose into a tall, minaret-like spike. On the tray stood also a small +cup having no handle; a dish of dates; a few wafers made of the +Arabian cereal called _temmin_; and a little bowl of _khat_ leaves. + +"_M'almé, al khat aja_" (the khat has come), said Rrisa. + +He placed the tray on the table at his master's side, and was about to +withdraw when the other stayed him with raised hand. + + +"Tell me, Rrisa," he commanded, still speaking in Arabic, "where wert +thou born? Show thou me, on that map." + +The Arab hesitated a moment, squinting by the dim light that now had +faded to purple dusk. Then he advanced a thin forefinger, and laid +it on a spot that might have indicated perhaps three hundred miles +southeast of Mecca. No name was written on the map, there. + +"How dost thou name that place, Rrisa?" demanded the Master. + +"I cannot say, Master," answered the Arab, very gravely. As he stood +there facing the western afterglow, the profound impassivity of his +expression--a look that seemed to scorn all this infidel civilization +of an upstart race--grew deeper. + +To nothing of it all did he owe allegiance, save to the Master +himself--the Master who had saved him in the thick of the Gallipoli +inferno. Captured by the Turks there, certain death had awaited him +and shameful death, as a rebel against the Sublime Porte. The Master +had rescued him, and taken thereby a scar that would go with him to +the grave; but that, now, does not concern our tale. Only we say again +that Rrisa's life lay always in the hands of this man, to do with as +he would. + +None the less, Rrisa answered the question with a mere: + +"Master, I cannot say." + +"Thou knowest the name of the place where thou wast born?" demanded +the Master, calmly, from where he sat by the table. + +"_A_ (yes), _M'almé_, by the beard of M'hámed, I do!" + +"Well, what is it?" + +Rrisa shrugged his thin shoulders. + +"A tent, a hut? A village, a town, a city?" + +"A city, Master. A great city, indeed. But its name I may not tell +you." + +"The map, here, shows nothing, Rrisa. And of a surety, the makers of +maps do not lie," the Master commented, and turned a little to pour +the thick coffee. Its perfume rose with grateful fragrance on the air. + +The Master sipped the black, thick nectar, and smiled oddly. For a +moment he regarded his unwilling orderly with narrowed eyes. + +"Thou wilt not say they lie, son of Islam, eh?" demanded he. + +"Not of choice, perhaps, _M'almé_," the Mussulman replied. "But if the +camel hath not drunk of the waters of the oasis, how can he know that +they be sweet? These _Nasara_ (Christian) makers of maps, what can +they know of my people or my land?" + +"Dost thou mean to tell me no man can pass beyond the desert rim, and +enter the middle parts of Arabia?" + +"I said not so, Master," replied the Arab, turning and facing his +master, every sense alert, on guard against any admissions that might +betray the secret he, like all his people, was sworn by a Very great +oath to keep. + +"Not all men, true," the Master resumed. "The Turks--I know they +enter, though hated. But have no other foreign men ever seen the +interior?" + +"_A, M'almé_, many--of the True Faith. Such, though they come from +China, India, or the farther islands of the Indian Ocean, may enter +freely." + +"Of course. But I am speaking now of men of the _Nasara_ faith. How of +them? Tell me, thou!" + +"You are of the _Nasara, M'almé!_ Do not make me answer this! You, +having saved my life, own that life. It is yours. _Ana bermil illi +bedakea!_ (I obey your every command!) But do not ask me this! My head +is at your feet. But let us speak of other things, O Master!" + +The Master kept a moment's silence. He peered contemplatively at the +dark silhouette of the Arab, motionless, impassive in the dusk. +Then he frowned a very little, which was as near to anger as he ever +verged. Thoughtfully he ate a couple of the little _temmin_ wafers and +a few dates. Rrisa waited in silent patience. + +All at once the Master spoke. + +"It is my will that thou speak to me and declare this thing, Rrisa," +said he, decisively. "Say, thou, hath no man of the _Nasara_ faith +ever penetrated as far as to the place of thy birth?" + +"_Lah_ (no), _M'almé_, never. But three did reach an oasis not far to +westward of it, fifty years ago, or maybe fifty-one." + +"Ah, so?" exclaimed the Master, a touch of eagerness in his grave, +impassive voice. "Who were they?" + +"Two of the French blood, Master, and one of the Russian." + +"And what happened to them, then?" + +"They--died, Master." + +"Thou dost mean, thy people did slay them?" + +"They died, all three," repeated Rrisa, in even tones. "The jackals +devoured them and the bones remained. Those bones, I think, are still +there. In our dry country--bones remain, long." + +"Hm! Yea, so it is! But, tell me, thou, is it true that in thy country +the folk slay all _Nasara_ they lay hands on, by cutting with a sharp +knife? Cutting the stomach, so?" He made an illustrative gesture. + +"Since you do force me to speak, against my will, _M'almé_--you being +of the _Nasara_ blood--I will declare the truth. Yea, that is so." + +"A pleasant custom, surely! And why always in the stomach? Why do they +never stab or cut like other races?" + +"There are no bones in the stomach, to dull the edges of the knives, +_M'almé_." + +"Quite practical, that idea!" the Master exclaimed. Then he fell +silent again. He pressed his questions no further, concerning the +great Central Desert of the land. To have done so, he knew, would have +been entirely futile. Beyond a certain point, which he could gauge +accurately, neither gold nor fire would drive Rrisa. The Arab would at +any hour of night or day have laid down his life for the Master; but +though it should mean death he would not break the rites of his faith, +nor touch the cursed flesh of a pig, nor drink the forbidden drop of +wine, nor yet betray the secret of his land. + +All at once the Arab spoke, in slow, grave tones. + +"Your God is not my God, Master," said he, impersonally. "No, the God +of your people is not the God of mine. We have our own; and the land +is ours, too. None of the _Nasara_ may come thither, and live. Three +came, that I have heard of, and--they died. I crave my Master's +bidding to depart." + +"Presently, yea," the Master answered. "But I have one more question +for thee. If I were to take thee, and go to thy land, but were not to +ask thy help there--if I were not to ask thee to guide me nor yet to +betray any secret--wouldst thou play the traitor to me, and deliver me +up to thy people?" + +"My head is at your feet, _M'almé_. So long as you did not ask me +to do such things as would be unlawful in the eyes of Allah and the +Prophet, and seek to force me to them, this hand of mine would wither +before it would be raised against the preserver of my life! I pray +you, _M'almé_, let me go!" + +"I grant it. _Ru'c'h halla!_" (Go now!) exclaimed the Master, with a +wave of the hand. Rrisa salaamed again, and, noiseless as a wraith, +departed. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +"TO PARADISE--OR HELL" + +For a time the Master sat in the thickening gloom, eating the dates +and _temmin_ wafers, drinking the coffee, pondering in deep silence. +When the simple meal was ended, he plucked a little sprig of leaves +from the khat plant in the bowl, and thrust them into his mouth. + +This khat, gathered in the mountains back of Hodeida, on the Red Sea +not far from Bab el Mandeb, had been preserved by a process known +to only a few Coast Arabs. The plant now in the bowl was part of a +shipment that had been more than three months on the way; yet still +the fresh aroma of it, as the Master crushed the thick-set, dark-green +leaves, scented the darkening room with perfumes of Araby. + +Slowly, with the contemplative appreciation of the connoisseur, the +Master absorbed the flavor and the wondrous stimulation of the "flower +of paradise." The use of khat, his once-a-day joy and comfort, he had +learned more than fifteen years before, on one of his exploring tours +in Yemen. He could hardly remember just when and where he had first +come to know the extraordinary mental and physical stimulus of this +strange plant, dear to all Arabs, any more than he definitely recalled +having learned the complex, poetical language of that Oriental land +of mystery. Both language and the use of khat had come to him from +contact with only the fringes of the country; and both had contributed +to his vast, unsatisfied longing to know what lay beyond the forbidden +zones that walled this land away from all the world. + +Wherever he had gone, whatever perils, hardships, and adventures had +been his in many years of wandering up and down the world, khat, +the wondrous, had always gone with him. The fortune he had spent +on keeping up the supply had many times over been repaid to him in +strength and comfort. + +The use of this plant, containing obscure alkaloids of the +katinacetate class, constituted his only vice--if you can call a habit +such as this vice, that works great well-being and that leaves no +appreciable aftermaths of evil such as are produced by alcohol or +drugs. + +For a few minutes the Master sat quite motionless, pondering. Then +suddenly he got up again, and strode to one of the westward-looking +windows. The light was almost wholly gone, now. The man's figure, +big-shouldered, compact, well-knit, appeared only as a dim silhouette +against the faded blur in the west; a blur smoky and streaked with +dull smudges as of old, dried blood. + +Far below, stretching away, away, shimmered the city's million +inconsequential lights. Above, stars were peeping out--were spying +down at all this feverish mystery of human life. Some of the low-hung +stars seemed to blend with the far lights along the Palisades. The +Master's lips tightened with impatience, with longing. + +"There's where it is," he muttered. "Not five miles from here! It's +there, and I've got to have it. There--a thing that can't be bought! +There--a thing that must be mine!" + +Among the stars, cutting down diagonally from the north-west, crept a +tiny, red gleam. The Master looked very grim, as his eyes followed its +swift flight. + +"The Chicago mail-plane, just getting in," he commented. "In half an +hour, the Paris plane starts from the Cortlandt Street aero-tower. And +beyond Paris lies Constantinople; and beyond that, Arabia--the East! +Men are going out that way, tonight! And I--stick here like an old, +done relic, cooped in _Niss'rosh_--imprisoned in this steel and glass +cage of my own making!" + +Suddenly he wheeled, flung himself into the big chair by the table and +dragged the faun's head over to him. He pressed a button at the base +of it, waited a moment and as the question came, "Number, please?" +spoke the desired number into the cupped hand and ear of the bronze. +Then, as he waited again, with the singular telephone in hand, he +growled savagely: + +"By Allah! This sort of thing's not going to go on any longer! Not if +I die stopping it!" + +A familiar voice, issuing from the lips of the faun--a voice made +natural and audible as the living human tones, by means of a delicate +microphone attachment inside the bronze head--tautened his nerves. + +"Hello, hello!" called he. "That you, Bohannan?" + +"Yes," sounded the answer. "Of course I know who _you_ are. There's +only one voice like yours in New York. Where are you?" + +"In prison." + +"No! Prison? For the Lord's sake!" + +"No; for conventionality's sake. Not legally, you understand. Not +even an adventure as exciting as that has happened to me. But +constructively in jail. _De facto_, as it were. It's all the same +thing." + +"Up there in that observatory thing of yours, are you?" asked +Bohannan. + +"Yes; and I want to see you." + +"When?" + +"At once! As soon as you can get over here in a taxi, from that +incredibly stupid club of yours. You can get to _Niss'rosh_ even +though it's after seven. Take the regular elevator to the forty-first +floor, and I'll have Rrisa meet you and bring you up here in the +special. + +"That's a concession, isn't it? The sealed gates that no one else ever +passes, at night, are opened to you. It's very important. Be here in +fifteen minutes you say? First-rate! Don't fail me. Good-bye!" + +He was smiling a little now as he pressed the button again and rang +off. He put the faun's head back on the table, got up and stretched +his vigorous arms. + +"By Allah!" he exclaimed, new notes in his voice. "What if--what if it +_could_ be, after all?" + +He turned to the wall, laid his hand on an ivory plate flush with the +surface and pressed slightly. In silent unison, heavy gold-embroidered +draperies slid across every window. As these draperies closed the +apertures, light gushed from every angle and cornice. No specific +source of illumination seemed visible; but the room bathed itself in +soft, clear radiance with a certain restful greenish tinge, throwing +no shadows, pure as the day itself. + +The man pulled open a drawer in the table and silently gazed down at +several little boxes within. He opened some. From one, on a bed of +purple satin, the Croix de Guerre, with a palm, gleamed up at him. +Another disclosed an "M.M.," a Médaille Militaire. A third showed him +the "D.F.C.," or Distinguished Flying Cross. Still another contained +aviator's insignia in the form of a double pair of wings. The Master +smiled, and closed the boxes, then the drawer. + +"After these," he mused, "dead inaction? Not for me!" + +His dark eyes were shining with eagerness as he walked to a door +beside that through which the Arab had entered. He swung it wide, +disclosing an ample closet, likewise inundated with light. There +hung a war-worn aviator's uniform of leather, gauntlets, a sheepskin +jacket, a helmet, resistal goggles, a cartridge-belt still half full +of ammunition, a heavy service automatic. + +For a moment the man looked in at these. A great yearning came upon +his face. Caressingly he touched the uniform, the helmet. He unhooked +the pistol from where it hung, and carried it back to the table. + +There he laid it down, and drew up his chair in front of it. For +a moment, silence fell as he remained there studying the +automatic--silence save for the faint, far hum of the city, the +occasional melodious note of steamer-whistles on the river. + +The Master's face, now that full light brought out its details, showed +a white scar that led from his right ear down along jaw and throat, +till the collar masked it. Gray hairs, beyond those of his age, +sprinkled his temples. Strangely he smiled as he observed the nicks +and deep excoriations in stock and barrel of the formidable weapon. +He reached out, took up the gun once more, weighed it, got the feel of +it, patted it with affection. + +"We've been through some wonderful times together, old pal, you and +I," said he. "We thought it was all over, didn't we, for a while? But +it's not! Life's not done, yet. It's maybe just beginning! We're going +out on the long trek, _again_!" + +For a while he sat there musing. Then he summoned Rrisa again, bade +him remove the tray, and gave him instructions about the guest soon +to arrive. When Rrisa had withdrawn, the Master pulled over one of the +huge atlases, opened it, turned to the map of Arabia, and fell into +deep study. + +Rrisa's tapping at the door, minutes later, roused him. At his order +to advance, the door swung. The Arab ushered in a guest, then silently +disappeared. Without a sound, the door closed. + +The Master arose, advancing with outstretched hand. + +"Bohannan! God, but I'm glad to see you!" + +Their hands met and clasped. The Master led Bohannan to the table and +gestured toward a chair. Bohannan threw his hat on the table with a +large, sweeping gesture typical of his whole character, and sat down. +And for a moment, they looked at each other in silence. + +A very different type, this, from the dark, sinewed master of +_Niss'rosh_. Bohannan was frankly red-haired, a bit stout, smiling, +expansive. His blood was undoubtedly Celtic. An air of great geniality +pervaded him. His hands were strong and energetic, with oddly +spatulate fingers; and the manner in which his nails had been gnawed +down and his mustache likewise chewed, bespoke a highly nervous +temperament belied by his ruddy, almost boyish face. His age might +have been thirty-five, but he looked one of those men who never fully +grow up, who never can be old. + +"Well, what's doing now?" demanded he, fixing blue eyes on his host. +He produced a cigarette and lighted it, inhaled smoke deeply and blew +a thin gray cloud toward the ceiling. "Something big, eh? by the way +you routed me out of a poker-game where I was already forty-seven +dollars and a half to the good. You don't usually call a fellow, that +way, unless there's something in the wind!" + +"There is, now." + +"Big?" + +"Very." + +"So?" The newcomer's eyes fell on the pistol. "Yes, that looks like +action, all right. Hope to heaven it _is_! I've been boring myself +and everybody else to death, the past three months. What's up? Duel, +maybe?" + +"Yes. That's just it, Bohannan. A duel." And the Master fixed strange +eyes on his companion. His muscular fingers fell to tapping the +prayer-rug on the table, drumming out an impatient little tattoo. + +"Duel? Lord's sake, man! With whom?" + +"With Fate. Now, listen!" The Master's tones became more animated. +A little of the inward fires had begun to burn through his +self-restraint. "Listen to me, and not a word till I'm done! You're +dryrotting for life, man. Dying for it, gasping for it, eating your +heart out for it! So am I. So are twenty-five or thirty men we know, +between us, in this city. That's all true, eh?" + +"Some!" + +"Yes! We wouldn't have to go outside New York to find at least +twenty-five or thirty in the same box we're in. All men who've been +through trench work, air work, life-and-death work on various fronts. +Men of independent means. Men to whom office work and club life +and all this petty stuff, here, is like dish-water after champagne! +Dare-devils, all of them, that wouldn't stop at the gates of Hell!" + +"The gates of Hell?" demanded Bohannan, his brow wrinkling with glad +astonishment. "What d'you mean by that, now?" + +"Just what I say! It's possible to gather together a kind of +unofficial, _sub rosa_, private little Foreign Legion of our own, +Bohannan--all battle-scarred men, all men with at least one decoration +and some with half a dozen. With that Legion, nothing would be +impossible!" + +He warmed to his subject, leaned forward, fixed eager eyes on +his friend, laid a hand on Bohannan's knee. "We've all done +the conventional thing, long enough. Now we're going to do the +unconventional thing. We've been all through the known. Now we're +going after the unknown. And Hell is liable to be no name for it, I +tell you that!" + +The Celt's eyes were alight with swift, eager enthusiasm. He laid his +hand on the other's, and gripped it hard in hot anticipation. + +"Tell me more!" he commanded. "What are we going to do?" + +"Going to see the stuff that's in us, and in twenty-five or thirty +more of our kind. The stuff, the backbone, the heart that's in you, +Bohannan! That's in me! In all of us!" + +"Great, great! That's me!" Bohannan's cigarette smoldered, unheeded, +in his fingers. The soul of him was thrilling with great visions. "I'm +with you! Whither bound?" + +The Master smiled oddly, as he answered in a low, even tone: + +"To Paradise--or Hell!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +THE GATHERING OF THE LEGIONARIES + +One week from that night, twenty-seven other men assembled in the +strange eyrie of _Niss'rosh_, nearly a thousand feet above the city's +turmoil. They came singly or in pairs, their arrival spaced in such a +manner as not to make the gathering obvious to anyone in the building +below. + +Rrisa, the silent and discreet, brought them up in the private +elevator from the forty-first floor to the Master's apartment on the +top story of the building, then up the stairway to the observatory, +and thus ushered them into the presence of the Master and Bohannan. +Each man was personally known to one or the other, who vouched +absolutely for his secrecy, valor, and good faith. + +This story would resolve itself into a catalogue were each man to be +named, with his title, his war-exploits, his decorations. We shall +have to touch but lightly on this matter of personnel. Six of the +men were Americans--eight, including the Master and Bohannan; four +English; five French; two Serbian; three Italian; and the others +represented New Zealand, Canada, Russia, Cuba, Poland, Montenegro, and +Japan. + +Not one of these men but bore a wound or more, from the Great +Conflict. This matter of having a scar had been made one prime +requisite for admission to the Legion. Each had anywhere from one to +half a dozen decorations, whether the Congressional Medal, the V.C., +the Croix de Guerre, the Order of the Rising Sun, or what-not. + +Not one was in uniform. That would have made their arrival far too +conspicuous. Dressed as they were, in mufti, even had anyone noted +their coming, it could not have been interpreted as anything but an +ordinary social affair. + +Twenty-nine men, all told, gathered in the observatory, clearly +illuminated by the hidden lights. All were true blue, all loyal to +the core, all rusting with ennui, all drawn thither by the lure of the +word that had been passed them in club and office, on the golf links, +in the street. All had been pledged, whether they went further or not, +to keep this matter secret as the grave. + +Some were already known to each other. Some needed introduction. Such +introduction consumed a few minutes, even after the last had come and +been checked off on the Master's list, in cipher code. The +brightly lighted room, behind its impenetrable curtains, blued with +tobacco-smoke; but no drop of wine or spirits was visible. + +The Master, at the head of the table, sat with his list and took +account of the gathering. Each man, as his name was called, gave that +name in full, briefly stated his service and mentioned his wound. + +All spoke English, though some rather mangled it. At any rate, this +was to be the official language of the expedition, and no other was to +be allowed. The ability to understand and obey orders given in English +had, of course, to be one essential requisite for this adventurous +band of Legionaries. + +When all the credentials had been proved satisfactory, the Master +rapped for order. Silence fell. The men settled down to listen, in +tense expectancy. Some took chairs, others occupied the divan, still +others--for whom there were no seats--stood along the walls. + +Informal though the meeting still was, an air of military restraint +and discipline already half possessed it. The bright air seemed to +quiver with the eagerness of these fighting-men once more to +thrust out into the currents of activity, to feel the tightening of +authority, the lure and tang of the unknown. + +Facing them from the end of the table, the Master stood and spoke +to them, with Bohannan seated at his right. His face reflected quite +another humor from that of the night, a week before, when first this +inspiration had come upon him. + +He seemed refreshed, buoyant, rejuvenated. His eyes showed fire. His +brows, that had frowned, now had smoothed themselves. His lips smiled, +though gravely. His color had deepened. His whole personality, that +had been sad and tired, now had become inspired with a profound and +soul-felt happiness. + +"Gentlemen all, soldiers and good men," said he, slowly. "In a general +way you know the purpose of this meeting. I am not given to oratory. I +do not intend making any speech to you. + +"We are all ex-fighters. Life, once filled with daring and adventure, +has become stale, flat, and unprofitable. The dull routine of business +and of social life is Dead Sea fruit to our lips--dust and ashes. It +cannot hold or entertain us. + +"By this I do not mean that war is good, or peace bad. For the vast +majority of men, peace is normal and right. But there must be always +a small minority that cannot tolerate ennui; that must seek risks and +daring exploits; that would rather lay down their lives, today, in +some man-sized exploit, than live twenty-five years longer in the dull +security of a humdrum rut. + +"Such men have always existed and probably always will. We are all, +I believe, of that type. Therefore you will all understand me. I will +understand you. And each of you will understand the rest. + +"Major Bohannan and I have chosen you and have invited you here +because we believe every man in this room is precisely the kind of +man I have been defining. We believe you are like ourselves, dying +of boredom, eager for adventure; and willing to undergo military +discipline, swear secrecy, pledge honor and risk life itself, provided +the adventure be daring enough, the reward promising enough. If there +is anyone here present who is unwilling to subscribe to what I have +said, so far, let him withdraw." + +No one stirred. But a murmur arose, eager, delighted: + +"Go on! Go on--tell us more!" + +"Absolute obedience to me is to be the first rule," continued the +Master. "The second is to be sobriety. There shall be no drinking, +carousing, or gambling. This is not to be a vulgar, swashbuckling, +privateering revel, but--" + +A slight disturbance at the door interrupted him. He frowned, and +rapped on the table, for silence. The disturbance, however, continued. +Someone was trying to enter there against Rrisa's protests. + +"I did not bring you up, sir," the Arab was saying, in broken English. +"You cannot come in! How did you get here?" + +"I'm not in the habit of giving explanations to subordinates, or +of bandying words with them," replied the man, in a clear, rather +high-pitched but very determined voice. The company, gazing at him, +saw a slight, well-knit figure of middle height or a little less, +in aviator's togs. "I'm here to see your master, my good fellow, not +you!" + +The man at the head of the table raised a finger to his lips, in +signal of silence from them all, and beckoned the Arab. + +"Let him come in!" he ordered, in Rrisa's vernacular. + +"_A, M'almé_" submitted the desert man, standing aside and bowing as +the stranger entered. The Master added, in English: + +"If he comes as a friend and helper, uninvited though he be, we +welcome him. If as an enemy, traitor, or spy, we can deal justice to +him in short order. Sir, advance!" + +The stranger came to the foot of the table. Men made way for him. He +stood there a moment in silence, dropped his gauntlets on the table +and seemed peering at the Master. Then all at once he drew himself up, +sharply, and saluted. + +The Master returned the salute. A moment's silence followed. No man +was looking elsewhere than at this interloper. + +Not much could be seen of him, so swaddled was he in sheepskin jacket, +aviator's helmet, and goggles. Leather trousers and leggings completed +his costume. The collar of the jacket, turned up, met the helmet. Of +his face, only the chin and lower part of the cheeks remained visible. + +The silence tautened, stretched to the breaking-point. All at once the +master of _Niss'rosh_ demanded, incisively: + +"Your name, sir?" + +"Captain Alfred Alden, of the R.A.F." + +"Royal Air Force man, eh? Are you prepared to prove that?" + +"I am." + +"If you're not, well--this won't be exactly a salubrious altitude for +you." + +"I have my papers, my licenses, my commission." + +"With you here?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well," answered the Master, "I will examine them in due time. +English, American, or--?" + +"I am a Canadian." answered the aviator. "I have seen nearly two +years' active service. I rank as an ace. I bear three wounds and have +been cited several times. I have the Distinguished Service Cross. What +more need I tell you, sir?" + +His voice was steady and rang true. The Master nodded approval, that +seemed to echo round the room in a buzz of acceptance. But there were +still other questions to be asked. The next one was: + +"How did you come here? It's obvious my man didn't bring you up." + +"I came in my own plane, sir," the stranger answered, in a dead hush +of stillness. "It just now landed on the roof of this building. If you +will draw the curtains, there behind you, I believe you can see it for +yourself." + +"I heard no engine." + +"I volplaned in. I don't say this to boast sir, but I can handle the +average plane as accurately as most men handle their own fingers." + +"Were you invited to attend this meeting by either Major Bohannan or +by me?" + +"No, sir, I was not." + +"Then, why are you here?" + +"Why am I here? For exactly the same reason that all the rest are +here, sir!" The aviator swept his arm comprehensively at the ranks of +eagerly listening men. "To resume active service. To get back to duty. +To live, again! In short, to join this expedition and to share all its +adventures!" + +"Hm! Either that, or to interfere with us." + +"Not the latter, sir! I swear that!" + +"How did you know there was going to be an expedition, at all?" +demanded the Master, his brows tensed, lips hard, eyes very keen. The +aviator seemed smiling, as he answered: + +"I know many things. Some may be useful to you all. I am offering you +my skill and knowledge, such as they may be, without any thought or +hope of reward." + +"Why?" + +"Because I am tired of life. Because I want--must have--the freedom of +the open roads, the inspiration of some great adventure! Surely, you +understand." + +"Yes, if what you say is true, and you are not a spy. Show us your +face, sir!" + +The aviator loosened his helmet and removed it, disclosing a mass of +dark hair, a well-shaped head and a vigorous neck. Then he took off +his goggles. + +A kind of communal whisper of astonishment and hostility ran round the +apartment. The man's whole face--save for eyeholes through which +dark pupils looked strangely out--was covered by a close-fitting, +flesh-colored celluloid mask. + +This mask reached from the roots of his hair to his mouth. It sloped +away down the left jaw, and somewhat up the cheekbone of the right +side. The mask was firmly strapped in place around the head and neck. + +"What does all this mean, sir?" demanded the Master, sharply. "Why the +mask?" + +"Is that a necessary question, sir?" replied the aviator, while a buzz +of curiosity and suspicion rose. "You have seen many such during the +war and since its close." + +"Badly disfigured, are you?" + +"That word, 'disfigured,' does not describe it, sir. Others have +wounds, but my whole face is nothing but a wound. No, let me put it +more accurately--there is, practically speaking, no face at all. The +gaping cavity that exists under this mask would certainly sicken the +strongest men among you, and turn you against me. + +"We can't tolerate what disgusts, even if its qualities be excellent. +In exposing myself to you, sir, I should certainly be insuring my +rejection. But what you cannot see, what you can only imagine, will +not make you refuse me." + +The Master pondered a moment, then nodded and asked: + +"Is it so very bad, sir?" + +"It's a thing of horror, incredible, awful, unreal! In the hospital +at Rouen, they called me 'The Kaiser's Masterpiece.' Some of the most +hardened surgeons couldn't look at me, or dress my--wound, let us call +it--without a shudder. Ordinary men would find me intolerable, if they +could see me. + +"Unmasked, I bear no resemblance whatever to a man, but rather to some +ghastly, drug-inspired dream or nightmare of an Oriental Dante. The +fact that I have sacrificed my human appearance in the Great Cause +cannot overcome the shrinking aversion that normal men would feel, +if they could see me. I say only this, that my mutilation is +indescribable. As the officer and gentleman I know you to be, you +won't ask me to expose this horror!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +THE MASKED RECRUIT + +A little silence lengthened, while the strange aviator continued to +peer out with strangely shining eyes through the holes of his mask. +The effect of that human intelligence, sheltered in there behind that +expressionless celluloid, whose frail thinness they all knew covered +unspeakable frightfulness, became uncanny. + +Some of the men eased the tension by blowing ribbons of smoke or +by relighting tobacco that had gone out while the stranger had been +talking. Others shifted, a bit uneasily. Voices began to mutter, pro +and con. The Master suddenly knocked again, for silence. + +"I am going to accept this man," said he, sharply. "You notice I +do not put this to a vote, or consult you about it. Nor shall I, in +anything. The prime condition of this whole undertaking, as I was +saying when Captain Alden here arrived, is unquestioning obedience to +my authority. + +"No one who is unwilling to swear that, need go any further. You must +have confidence in my plans, my judgment. And you must be willing to +obey. It is all very autocratic, I know, but the expedition cannot +proceed on any other basis. + +"You are to go where I will, act as I command, and only regain your +liberty when the undertaking is at an end. I shall not order any man +to go anywhere, or do anything, that I would not do myself. On this +you can rely. + +"In case of my death, the authority falls on Major Bohannan. He is +today the only man who knows my plans, and with whom I have had any +discussion. If we both are killed, then you can elect your own leader. +But so long as either of us lives, you have no authority and no +redress. I hope that's perfectly understood. Does any man wish to +withdraw?" + +Not one budged. All stood to their decision, hard as rock. + +"Very well," said the Master, grimly. "But remember, disobedience +incurs the death penalty, and it will be rigorously enforced. My word +is to be supreme. + +"Such being the case, I decide to take this man. His skill as an +aviator cannot be denied. We shall need that. His ability to endure +suffering and still remain efficient seems proved. That may be +valuable; probably will be. + +"I shall examine his credentials. If he turns out to be a spy--well, +life will be short, for him." + +He addressed himself to the masked aviator, who was still standing in +an attitude of military attention. + +"You are now one of us, sir. You become the thirtieth member of a +little group of as brave men, as daring and determined fighters as +can be found in America or in the world--all tried and tempered by the +fires of war; all decorated for conspicuous valor; all ready to follow +me to the ends of the earth and die, if need be; all eager to share in +an undertaking as yet unknown to them, but one that promises to be +the most extraordinary adventure ever undertaken on this planet. You +understand all that, sir?" + +"I do!" + +"Raise your right hand, sir." + +The aviator obeyed. + +"All the others, too!" + +Every hand went up. + +"Swear allegiance to me, fidelity, secrecy, courage, obedience. On the +thing you hold most dear, your honor as fighting-men, swear it!" + +The shout that answered him, from every throat, made the eagle's nest +ring with wild echoes. The Master smiled, as the hands sank. + +"With men like you," said he, "failure is impossible. The expedition +is to start at once, tomorrow night. No man in it has now any ties +or home or kin that overbalance his ties to me and to the _esprit de +corps_ of our body. + +"The past is dead, for you. The future is all a mystery. You are +to live only in the present, day by day. And now for some practical +details. + +"The means of transport you do not know. The perils and rewards are +problematical. Of the former there will be enough; as for the latter, +those lie on the knees of the gods. There will be no payment for any +man. Not a cent of money is involved in this service. + +"Commissary will be furnished. Each man is to wear his campaign +equipment--his uniform and such kit as he can store in a rucksack. +Bring small-arms and ammunition. In addition, I will furnish bombing +material and six Lewis guns, with ammunition, also other materials of +which I shall now say nothing. These things will be transported to +the proper place without labor on your part. I think I have made the +outlines of the matter reasonably clear to every man present." + +"Our orders, sir?" asked a voice with a French accent, down the table. +"Are we to have no precise orders before leaving this room?" + +"You are. Each man will receive his own, sealed, before leaving. I +am now about to give them out, in alphabetical rotation. This will +dismiss the meeting. You will withdraw as inconspicuously as you +came. Remember, you are to become as cogs in the machine that I have +devised. At the exact place, hour, minute, and second you are to do +exactly the thing ordered, _and nothing else_. Neglect, disobedience, +or failure will positively not be condoned, but will be punished as I +see fit, even to the death penalty. + +"Come forward now, as I call your names, and receive what I shall give +you." + +He opened a drawer in the table, took out many small boxes and +arranged them before him. Each box was carefully wrapped in stout +paper, securely tied, and sealed with red wax. + +Standing there, firm, impassive, with narrowed eyes, he began reading +the names: + + +"Adams--Auchincloss--Brodeur--Cracowicz--Daimamoto--Emilio--Frazier--" + +As each man's name was uttered he came down along the table, took the +box extended to him, thrust it into his pocket, saluted stiffly, and +withdrew in silence. At the end of a few minutes, no one was left but +the Master, Bohannan, and the man in the celluloid mask. + +"Have you no orders for me, sir?" asked the aviator, still erect +in his place at the far end of the table. His eyes shone out darkly +through his shield. + +"None, sir." + +"All the others--" + +"You are different." The Master set hands on his hips, and coldly +studied this strange figure. "The others have had their orders +carefully worked out for them, prepared, synchronized. You have come, +so to speak, as an extemporization, an auxiliary; you will add one +more unit to the flyers in the expedition, of which there are nine +aces, including Major Bohannan here. The others are now on their +way to their lodgings, to study their instructions, to memorize, and +prepare to carry them out. You are to remain here, with Major Bohannan +and with me." + +"Until what time, sir?" + +"Until we start. You will be under continual surveillance. If you +make any attempt to communicate in any way with anyone outside my +apartment, it will be the last thing you will ever do. You will +receive no other warning. Tomorrow night you will accompany us. Till +then, you remain my--guest." + +The aviator nodded. + +"Very well, sir," he accepted. "But, my machine?" + +"I will attend to your machine." + +"I should hate to leave it there on the roof." + +"It will not be left on the roof." + +"I don't understand, exactly--" + +"There will be very many things you do not understand before this +expedition is over and done with. I need say no more." + +Sharply he clapped his hands, thrice. In a moment, Rrisa appeared at +the door. The Master spoke a few guttural, aspirated words of Arabic. +Rrisa beckoned the stranger, who obeyed. + +At the exit he faced about and sharply saluted. The Master returned +it. Then he vanished, and the door noiselessly closed behind them. + +The Master turned to Bohannan. + +"Now," said he, "these few last details. Time is growing very short. +Only a few hours remain. To work, Major--to work!" + +At this same moment Auchincloss had already arrived at his rooms in +the McAlpine; and there, having carefully locked his door, had settled +himself at his desk with his sealed box before him. + +For a moment he studied it under the electric light. Then, breaking +the wax with fingers tensed by eagerness, he tore it open. He spread +the contents on his blotting-pad. There was a small pocket-compass of +the best quality, a plain-cased watch wound up and going, a map and +a folded sheet of paper covered with typewriting. Auchincloss fell to +reading: + +GENERAL ORDERS + +You are to learn your specific orders by heart, and then destroy this +paper. You are to act on these orders, irrespective of every other +man. You are not to communicate the contents of this paper to any +other. This might upset the pre-arranged plan. You might try to join +forces, assist each other, or exercise some mistaken judgment that +might result in ruin. Each man is to keep his orders an absolute +secret. This is vital. + +Each man, like yourself, is provided with a map, a watch, and a +compass. These watches are all self-luminous, all accurately adjusted +to synchronize to the second, and all will run forty-eight hours. + +SPECIFIC ORDERS + +Tomorrow, proceed inconspicuously to Tenafly, New Jersey, and hire a +room at the Cutter Inn. Carry your kit in a suit-case. At 7:30 p.m., +go to Englewood. Go up Englewood Avenue toward the Palisades, turn +left (north) along the road near edge of cliff; proceed half a mile +and enter woods at your right. There you will find path marked "A" on +your map. Put on rucksack and discard suit-case, which, of course, +is to have no identifying marks. Proceed along path to point "B," and +from under board you will find there take box with weapon enclosed. +Box will also contain vacuum searchlight and directions for use of +weapon, exact time, direction, and elevation for discharging same, and +further instructions how to proceed. Act on these to the second. If +interfered with, kill; but kill quietly, so as to avoid giving the +alarm. + +I expect every man to do his duty to the full. There will be but one +excuse for failure, and that is death. + +The Master. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +IN THE NIGHT + +The night was moonless, dark, warm with the inviting softness of late +spring that holds out promises of romance. Stars wavered and wimpled +in the black waters of the Hudson as a launch put out in silence from +the foot of Twenty-seventh Street. + +This launch contained four men. They carried but little baggage; no +more than could be stowed in a rucksack apiece. All were in their old +service uniforms, with long coats over the uniforms to mask them. All +carried vacuum-flashlights in their overcoat pockets, and lethal-gas +pistols, in addition to ordinary revolvers or automatics. And all were +keyed to the top notch of energy, efficiency, eagerness. The Great +Adventure had begun. + +In the stern of the swift, twenty-four cylinder launch--a racing +model--sat Captain Alden and Rrisa. The captain wore his aviator's +helmet and his goggles, despite the warmth of the night. To appear in +only his celluloid mask, even at a time like this when darkness would +have hidden him, seemed distasteful to the man. He seemed to want to +hide his misfortune as fully as possible; and, since this did no harm, +the Master let him have his way. + +The bow was occupied by the Master and by Major Bohannan, with the +Master at the wheel. He seemed cool, collected, impassive; but +the major, of hotter Celtic blood, could not suppress his fidgety +nervousness. + +Intermittently he gnawed at his reddish mustache. A cigar, he felt, +would soothe and quiet him. Cigars, however, were now forbidden. So +were pipes and cigarettes. The Master did not intend to have even +their slight distraction coming between the minds of his men and the +careful, intricate plan before them. + +As the racer veered north, up the broad darkness of the Hudson--the +Hudson sparkling with city illumination on either hand, with still or +moving ships' lights on the breast of the waters--Bohannan murmured: + +"Even now, as your partner in this enterprise--" + +"My lieutenant," corrected the Master. + +"As second in command," amended Bohannan, irritably, "I'm not wholly +convinced this is the correct procedure." He spoke in low tones, +covered by the purring exhaust of the launch and by the hiss of +swiftly cloven waters. "It looks like unnecessary complication, to me, +and avoidable danger." + +"It is neither," answered the man at the wheel. "What would you have +done? What better plan could you have proposed?" + +"You could have built your own flyer, couldn't you? Since money's no +object to you, and you don't even know, accurately, how much you've +got--nobody can keep track of figures like those--why risk legal +interference and international complications at the start, by--" + +"To build the kind of flyer we need would have taken six or seven +months. Not all my money could have produced it, sooner. And absolute +ennui can't wait half a year. I'd have gone wholly stale, and so would +you, and all of them. We'd have lost them. + +"Again, news of any such operations would have got out. My plans would +possibly have been checkmated. In the third place, what you propose +would have been tame sport, indeed, as a beginning! Three excellent +reasons, my dear Major, why this is positively the only way." + +"Perhaps. But there's always the chance of failure, now. The guards--" + +"After your own experience, when that capsule burst in the laboratory, +you talk to me about guards?" + +"Suppose one escapes?" + +The Master only smiled grimly, and sighted his course up the dark +river. + +"And the alarm is sure to be given, in no time. Why didn't you just +buy the thing outright?" + +"It's not for sale, at any price." + +"Still--men can't run off with three and a half million dollars' worth +of property and with provisions and equipment like that, all ready for +a trial trip, without raising Hell. There'll be pursuit--" + +"What with, my dear Bohannan?" + +"That's a foolish statement of mine, the last one, I admit," answered +the major, as his companion swung the launch a little toward the +Jersey shore. "Of course nothing can overhaul us, once we're away. +But you know my type of mind weighs every possibility, pro and con. +Wireless can fling out a fan of swift aerial police ahead of us from +Europe." + +"How near can anything get to us?" + +"I know it all looks quite simple and obvious, in theory. +Nevertheless--" + +"Men of your character are useful, in places," said the Master, +incisively. "You are good in a charge, in sudden daring, in swift +attack. But in the approach to great decisions, you vacillate. That's +your racial character. + +"I'm beginning to doubt my own wisdom in having chosen you as next in +command. There's a bit of doubting Thomas in your ego. It's not +too late, yet, for you to turn back. I'll let you, as a special +concession. Brodeur will jump at the chance to be your successor." + +His hand swung the wheel, sweeping the racer in a curve toward the +Manhattan shore. Bohannan angrily pushed the spokes over again the +other way. + +"I stick!" he growled. "I've said the last word of this sort you'll +ever hear me utter. Full speed ahead--to Paradise--or Hell!" + +They said no more. The launch split her way swiftly toward the north. +By the vague, ghostly shimmer of light upon the waters, a tense smile +appeared on the steersman's lips. In his dark eyes gleamed the joy +which to some men ranks supreme above all other joys--that of bending +others to his will, of dominating them, of making them the puppets of +his fancy. + +Some quarter hour the racer hummed upriver. Keenly the Master kept +his lookout, picking up landmarks. Finally he spoke a word to +Captain Alden, who came forward to the engines. The Master's +cross-questionings of this man had convinced him his credentials were +genuine and that he was loyal, devoted, animated by nothing but the +same thirst for adventure that formed the driving power behind them +all. Now he was trusting him with much, already. + +"Three quarters speed," ordered the Master. The skilled hand of the +captain, well-versed in the operation of gas engines, obeyed the +command. The whipping breeze of their swift course, the hiss at the +bows as foam and water crumbled out and over, somewhat diminished. The +goal lay not far off. + +To starboard, thinning lights told the Master they were breasting +Spuyten Duyvil. To port, only a few scattered gleams along the base of +the cliff or atop it, showed that the sparsely settled Palisades were +drawing abeam. The ceaseless, swarming activities of the metropolis +were being left behind. Silence was closing in, broken only by vagrant +steamer-whistles from astern. + +A crawling string of lights, on the New York shore, told that an +express was hurling itself cityward. Its muffled roar began to echo +out over the star-flecked waters. The Master threw a scornful glance +at it. He turned in his seat, and peered at the shimmer of the city's +lights, strung like a luminous rosary along the river's edge. Then +he looked up at the roseate flush on the sky, flung there by the +metropolis as from the mouth of a crucible. + +"Child's play!" he murmured. "All this coming and going in +crowded streets, all this fighting for bread, and scheming over +pennies--child's play. Less than that--the blind swarming of ants! +Tomorrow, where will all this be, for us?" + +He turned back and thrust over the spokes. The launch drew in toward +the Jersey shore. + +"Let the engines run at half-speed," he directed, "and control her now +with the clutch." + +"Yes, sir!" + +The aviator's voice was sharp, precise, determined. The Master nodded +to himself with satisfaction. This man, he felt, would surely be a +valued member of the crew. He might prove more than that. There might +be stuff in him that could be molded to executive ability, in case +that should be necessary. + +The launch, now at half-speed, nosed her way directly toward the +cliff. Sounds from shore began to grow audible Afar, an auto siren +shrieked. A dog barked, irritatingly. A human voice came vaguely +hallooing. + +Off to the right, over the cliff brow, a faint aura of light was +visible. The eyes of the Master rested on this a moment, brightening. +He smiled again; and his hand tightened a little on the wheel. But all +he said was: + +"Dead slow, now, Captain Alden!" + +As the cliff drew near, its black brows ate across the sky, devouring +stars. The Master spoke in Arabic to Rrisa, who seized a boat hook +and came forward. Out of the gloom small wharf advanced to meet the +launch. The boat-hook caught; the launch, easing to a stop, cradled +against the stringpiece. + +Rrisa held with the hook, while Bohannan and Alden clambered out. +Before the Master left, he bent and seemed to be manipulating +something in the bottom of the launch. Then he stepped to the engine. + +"Out, Rrisa," he commanded, "and hold hard with the hook, now!" + +The Arab obeyed. All at once the propeller churned water, reversed. +The Master leaped to the wharf. + +"Let go--and throw the hook into the boat!" he ordered. + + +While the three others stood wondering on the dark wharf, the launch +began to draw slowly back into the stream. Already it was riding a bit +low, going down gradually by the bows. + +"What now?" questioned the major, astonished. + +"She will sink a hundred or two yards from shore, in deep water," +answered the Master, calmly. "The sea-cock is wide open." + +"A fifteen thousand dollar launch--!" + +"Is none the less, a clue. No man of this party, reaching the shore +tonight, is leaving any more trace than we are. Come, now, all this is +trivial. Forward!" + +In silence, they followed him along the dark wharf, reached a narrow, +rocky path that serpented up the face of the densely wooded cliff, +and began to ascend. A lathering climb it was, laden as they were with +heavy rucksacks, in the moonless obscurity. + +Now and then the Master's little searchlight--his own wonderful +invention, a heatless light like an artificial firefly, using no +batteries nor any power save universal, etheric rays in an absolute +vacuum--glowed with pale virescence over some particularly rough bit +of going. For the most part, however, not even this tiny gleam +was allowed to show. Silence, darkness, precision, speed were now +all-requisite. + +Twenty-four minutes from leaving the wharf, they stood among a +confused, gigantic chaos of boulders flung, dicelike, amid heavy +timbers on the brow of the Palisades. Off to the north, the faint, +ghostly aura dimly silhouetted the trees. Far below, the jetty river +trembled here, there, with starlight. + +They paused a moment to breathe, to shift straps that bound shoulders +not now hardened to such burdens. The Master glanced at the luminous +dial of his wrist-watch. + +"Almost to the dot," he whispered. "Seventeen minutes to midnight. At +midnight, sharp, we take possession. Come!" + +They trailed through a hard, rocky path among thick oak, pine, +and silver-birch. Now and then the little greenish-white light +will-o'-the-wisped ahead, flickering hither, yon. No one spoke a word. +Every footstep had to be laid down with care. After three minutes' +progress, the Master stopped, turned, held up his hand. + +"Absolute silence, now," he breathed. "The outer guards are now within +an eighth of a mile." + +They moved forward again. The light was no longer shown, but the +Master confidently knew the way. Bohannan felt a certain familiarity +with the terrain, which he had carefully studied on the large-scale +map he and the Master had used in planning the attack; but the +Master's intimate knowledge was not his. After two and one-half +minutes, the leader stopped again, and gestured at heavy fern-brakes +that could just be distinguished as black blotches in the dark of the +woods. + +"The exact spot," he whispered. "Take cover, and follow your memorized +orders!" + +He settled down noiselessly into the brakes. The others did likewise. +Utter silence fell, save for the far, vague roar of the city. A +vagrant little breeze was stirring the new foliage, through which a +few stars curiously peeped. The four men seemed far, very far from any +others. And yet-- + +_Were_ there any others near them? the major wondered. No sign, no +sound of them existed. Off to northward, where the dim glow ghosted up +against the sky, an occasional noise drifted to the night. A distant +laugh diffused itself through the dark. A dog yapped; perhaps the +same that they had heard barking, a few minutes before. Then came the +faint, sharp tapping of a hammer smiting metal. + +"They're knocking out the holding-pins," thought the major. "In a few +minutes it'll be too late, _if_ we don't strike now!" He felt a great +temptation to urge haste, on the Master. But, aware of the futility of +any suggestion, the risk of being demoted for any other _faux pas_, he +bridled his impatience and held still. + +Realizing that they were now lying at the exact distance of 440 yards +from the stockade that protected the thing they had come to steal--if +you can call "stealing" the forced sale the Master now planned +consummating, by having his bankers put into unwilling hands every +ultimate penny of the more than $3,500,000 involved, once the _coup_ +should be put through--realizing this fact, Bohannan felt the tug of a +profound excitement. + +His pulses quickened; the tension of his Celtic nerves keyed itself up +like a banjo-string about to snap. Steeled in the grim usages of +war though he was, and more than once having felt the heart-breaking +stress of the zero hour, this final moment of waiting, of suspense +before the attack that was so profoundly to affect his life and the +lives of all these other hardy men, pulled heavily at his nerves. He +desperately wanted a smoke, again, but that was out of the question. +It seemed to him, there in the dark and stillness, one of the fateful +moments of time, pregnant with possibilities unlimited. + +The Master, Alden, Rrisa, mere vague blurs among the ferns, remained +motionless. If their nerves were a-tingle, they gave no hint or sign +of it. Where might the others of the Legion be? No indication of +them could be made out. No other living thing seemed in the woods +encircling the stockade. Was each man really there and ready for the +predetermined role he was to play? + +It seemed incredible, fantastic, to suppose that all these +adventurers, each separate and alone, each having no contact, with +any other, should all have taken their assigned posts. That each, with +luminous watch on wrist, was even now timing himself, to the second, +before striking the single note calculated to produce, in harmony with +all the rest, the finished composition. Such an assumption partook +more of the stuff of an Arabian Nights tale than of stern reality in +this Twentieth Century and on the outskirts of the world's greatest +city. + +The Master, crouching, whispered: + +"Two minutes more! Keep your eyes on your watches, now. Get your +lethal guns ready! In 120 seconds, you will hear the first capsule +burst. Ten seconds after that, Alden, fire yours. Ten later, yours, +Bohannan. Ten later, yours, Rrisa. Listen hard! Hold steady!" + +The silence drew at them like a pain. Rrisa breathed something in +which the words: "_La Illaha ilia Allah_" transpired in a wraith of +sound. Alden nestled closer into the ferns. Bohannan could hardly hold +his poise. + +All three now had their capsule pistols ready. The self-luminous +compass and level attached to each gun gave them their exact direction +and elevation. Glimmering watches marked the time, the dragging of the +last few seconds. + +The Master drew no weapon. His mind, directing all, observing all, was +not to be distracted by even so small a detail as any personal hand in +the discharge of the lethal gas. + +If he felt the strain of the final moment, on which hung vaster +issues than mere life or death, he gave no indication of it. His eyes +remained fixed on the watch-dial at his wrist. They were confident, +those eyes. The vague shimmer of the watch-glow showed them dark and +grave; his face, faintly revealed, was impassive, emotionless. + +It seemed the face of a scientist, a chemist who--having worked out +his formula to its ultimate minutiae--now felt utter trust in its +reactions, now was only waiting to observe what he well knew must +inevitably happen. + +"Thirty seconds more," he whispered, and fell silent. Presently, after +what seemed half an hour: "Fifteen!" + +Another long wait. The Master breathed: + +"In just five seconds the first capsule will burst there!" He pointed +with assurance. "In two--in one--" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +THE SILENT ATTACK + +At the exact instant when the second hand notched to the minute's +edge, and in precisely the spot indicated, a slight, luminous spot +became dimly visible above the trees. The spot took uncertain form +high above the ghost-glow rising from the unseen stockade. For an +instant it hung suspended, pale-greenish, evanescent. + +Then, as a faint plop! drifted to the watchers--a sound no louder +than a feeble clack of the tongue--this indefinite luminosity began to +sink, to fade, falling slowly, gradually dissipating itself in the dim +light over the stockade. + +The Master nodded, smiling, with never any hint of praise or +approbation. The fulfilment of his order was to him no other than it +is to you, when you drop a pebble into water, to hear the splash of +it. That his plan should be working out, seemed to him a perfectly +obvious, inevitable thing. The only factor that could possibly have +astonished him, just now, would have been the nonappearance of that +slight, luminous cloudlet at the precise spot and moment designated. + +Neither Bohannan, Alden, nor Rrisa was watching the slow descent of +the lethal gas. All three had their eyes fixed on their own lethal-gas +pistols and on their watches. At mathematically the correct second, +Bohannan discharged his piece, correctly sighting direction and +elevation. + +As he pressed trigger, a light sighing eased itself from the slim +barrel. Something flicked through the leaves; and, almost on the +instant, the phenomenon of the little phosphorescent spot repeated +itself, though in a different place from the first one. Captain +Alden's and Rrisa's shots produced still other blurs of virescence. + +Then, as they all waited, crouching, came another and another tiny +explosion, high aloft, at precisely ten-second intervals. Here, there, +they developed, until twenty-nine of these strange, bubble-like things +had burst above and all about the huge enclosure. Then darkness and +silence once more settled down. + +Nothing seemed to have happened. Night still reigned, starry with +glimpses of sky through wind-swayed trees. One would have said +everything still remained precisely as it had been before. + +Yet presently, within the stockade or near it, a certain uneasy +_mélange_ of sounds began to develop. Here a cry became audible, there +a command. A startled voice called an order, but suddenly fell silent, +half-way through it. The worrying of the dog ceased with eloquent +suddenness. A curse died, unfinished. + +And silence, as perfect as the silence of the unseen watchers strung +all about the periphery of the stockade, once more dominated the +night. + +For precisely ten minutes, nothing broke that silence--minutes +during all of which the Master remained calmly waiting, with grave +confidence. Bohannan shuddered a little. His Celtic imagination was at +work, again. Uncanny the attack seemed to him, unreal and ghostlike. +So, perhaps, might strange, unbelievable creatures from some other +planet attack and conquer the world, noiselessly, gently, irrevocably. + +This assault was different from any other ever made since man and man +first began battling together in the dim twilights of the primeval. +Not with shout and cheer did it rush forward, nor yet with venomous +gases that gave the alarm, that choked, that strangled, that tortured. + +Silence and concealment, and the invisible blight of sleep, like the +greater numbing that once fell on the hosts of Sennacherib, enfolded +all opposition. All who would have stood against the Legion, simply +sighed once, perhaps spoke a few disjointed words, then sank into +oblivion. + +So far as anyone could see, save for the bursting of twenty-nine +insignificant little light-bubbles, in mid-air, nothing at all had +happened. And yet tremendously much had happened, inside the huge +stockade. + +Ten minutes to a dot had drifted by, seeming at least six times as +long, when all at once the Master stood up. + +"The gas has dissipated enough now," said he, "so that we can advance +in safety. Come!" + +The three also arose, half at his command, half from the independent +impulses given them by their watches as these came to the designated +second for the forward movement. The Master blew no whistle, gave no +signal to the many others scattered all through those darkly silent +woods; but right and left, and over beyond the stockade, he knew with +the precision of a mathematical equation every man was at that exact +moment also arising, also obeying orders, also preparing to close +in on the precious thing whereof they meant to make themselves the +owners. + +Forward the Master made his way, with the three others of his +immediate escort. Though there no longer existed any need of silence, +hardly a word was spoken. Something vast, imminent, overpowering, +seemed to have laid its finger on the lips of all, to have muted them +of speech. + +The vacuum-lights, however, were now freely flashing in the little +party, as it advanced directly toward the stockade. The men clambered +over rocks, through bushes, across fallen logs. Rrisa stopped, +suddenly, played his light on a little bundle of gray fur, and touched +it with a curious finger. It was a squirrel, curled into a tiny ball +of oblivion. + +Alden's foot narrowly missed the body of a sleeping robin. An owl, +lodged in the fork of a tree, moved not as the men passed. It, too, +was whelmed in deep, temporary Nirvana. + +The party's next find arrested them, with a thrill of genuine +emotion, a triumph that could not be denied some few half-whispered +exclamations of exultation from the Master's three companions. He +himself was the only one who spoke no word. But, like the others, he +had stopped and was pointing the beam of his light on the figure lying +inert among broken bushes. + +With his toe he touched this figure. His light picked up the man's +face from the gloom. That face was looking at him with wide-open eyes. +The eyes saw nothing; but a kind of overwhelming astonishment still +seemed mirrored there, caught in the last moment of consciousness as +the man had fallen. + +The effect was startling, of that sleeping face, those open eyes, that +lax mouth. The man was breathing easily, peacefully as a tired child. +The Master's brows contracted a little. His lips tightened. Then he +nodded, and smiled the ghost of a smile. + +"Lord!" exclaimed Bohannan, half awed by the weirdness of the +apparition. "Staring at us, that way--and all! Is he asleep?" + +"Try him in any way your ingenuity may suggest," answered the Master, +while Alden blinked strangely through his eyeholes, and Rrisa in +Arabic affirmed that there is no God but Allah. "Try to force some +sense-impression to his brain. It is sleep, but it is more than that. +The best experiment for any doubting Thomas to employ is just to waken +this guard--if possible." + +Bohannan shook his head. + +"No," he answered, "I'm not going to make a fool of myself. There's no +going against any of your statements. I'm beginning to find that out, +definitely. Let's be on our way!" + +The Master spoke a few quick words of Arabic to his orderly. Rrisa +knelt by the prostrate man. Then, while the Master kept the light-beam +on him, Rrisa unbuckled the guard's belt, with cartridges and holster +containing an ugly snouted gun. This belt the Arab slung round his own +body. He arose. In silence, leaving the unconscious man just as he had +fallen, they once more pushed onward. + +Lights were beginning to gleam ahead, now, in what appeared to be a +long, high line. The trees half hid them, but moment by moment they +appeared more distinctly. Meantime, too, the glow over the stockade +was getting stronger. Presently the trees ceased; and there before +them the men saw a wide, cleared space, a hundred feet of empty land +between the woods and a tall, stout fence topped with live wires and +with numerous incandescents. + +"Nice place to tackle, if anybody were left to defend it!" commented +Bohannan. None of the others answered. The Master started diagonally +across the cleared space, toward a cluster of little buildings and +stout gate-posts. + +Hardly had they emerged from the woods, when, all up and down the +line, till it was broken by the woods at both ends where the stockade +joined its eastern and western wall, other men began appearing. And +all, alike, converged toward the gate. + +But to these, the little party of four gave no heed. Other men +absorbed their interest--sleeping men, now more and more thickly +scattered all along the stockade. Save for a slight, saline tang +to the air--an odor by no means unpleasant--nothing remained of the +lethal gas. + +But its victims still lay there, prone, in every possible attitude of +complete and overpowering abandonment. And all, as the party of four +passed, were quickly disarmed. Up and down the open space, other +Legionaries were at the same work. + +The Master and his companions reached the gate-house first of any +in the party. The gate was massive, of stout oaken planks heavily +strapped with iron. About it, and the gate-house, a good many +guards were lying. All showed evidence of having dropped asleep with +irresistible suddenness. + +Some were gaping, others foolishly grinning as if their last sensation +had been agreeable--as indeed it had been--while others stared +disconcertingly. The chin of one showed an ugly burn where his Turkish +cigarette had sagged, and had smoldered to extinction on the flesh. + +One had a watch in his hand, while another gripped a newspaper. In the +gate-house, two had fallen face downward on the table that occupied +the center of the rough room; checker-pieces lay scattered from the +game they had been playing. Several men sprawled just outside the +little house, on the platform. Under the incandescents, the effect +grew weird. + +Bohannan shuddered, as he glanced from one to another, then up at some +of the approaching men of the expedition. Rrisa affirmed that Mohammed +was indeed the prophet of Allah, and that the ways of the _Nasara_ +were most strange. + +"Good!" exclaimed the Master, with his first word of approval. Even +his aplomb was a little shaken by the complete success of the attack. +"It's all working like a clock." + +"How about disarming these men, sir?" queried Captain Alden. + +"No. They fall under the orders of another group." + +"The way is clear, then--" + +"Absolutely! These men will sleep almost precisely thirty minutes. The +way is clear ahead of us. Forward into the Palisade!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +THE NEST OF THE GREAT BIRD + +As the little group of four penetrated into the enclosure which but a +few moments before had been guarded all round its perimeter by a small +army of determined men, more and more of the Legionaries began to +concentrate toward the entrance. + +Silently they came, with almost the precision of automata in some +complex mechanical process. All were obeying the Master's will, +because obedience was sweet to them; because it spelled adventure, +freedom, life. + +Now and then one stopped, bent, arose with some added burden taken +from a fallen guard. Not one guard was to be injured in any manner. +Human life was not to be taken. But nothing in the way of armament was +to be left, by way of possible danger to the Legion. And already the +telephone-wires had been effectively cut. + +All the approaching Legionaries wore rucksacks, and all were in their +respective uniforms, though every man still wore a long coat that +concealed it. A few groups of two appeared, bearing rather heavy +burdens. + +The Master smiled again, and nodded, as he paused a moment at the +gate to peer down, along the line of the clearing between stockade and +forest. + +"Here come some of the machine-guns," said he. "I shall be vastly +surprised if one man or one single bit of equipment fails to appear on +schedule time. Nothing like system, Bohannan--that, and knowing how to +choose your men!" + +He turned, and the other three followed him into the enclosure. +Outside, all was developing according to plans and specifications. +They four were to be pioneers into the jealously guarded space +that for so long had been the mystery of the continent, yes, of the +civilized world. + +The whole enclosure was well lighted with a profusion of electric +lamps. At first view, quite a bewildering mass of small buildings +appeared; but second glance showed order in them all. Streets had been +laid out, as in a town; and along these streets stood drafting-sheds, +workshops, storehouses, commissary offices, dwellings for the workers, +guards, and bosses. A well-built cottage on the main, forward-going +road that led from the gate to an inner stockade, was probably +headquarters for the chief engineers. + +Not one sign of conscious life appeared. Men were lying here, there, +in the roadways, in the porches, in the shadow of the power-plant +where dynamos were still merrily singing. Few were armed. Most of them +here were workers, judging by their garb and by the tools still in +some hands. + +The four pioneers gave them no heed, but pushed steadily on. In the +road lay a couple of pigeons, farther on a sparrow, and still farther +a sleeping dog, showed how complete had been the effect of the lethal +pellets. + +The inner stockade was now close. It stood about twice as high as the +outer, was also topped with live wires and lights, and was loopholed +for defense. This formidable barrier was pierced by a small gate, +flanked by two machine-guns. On the gate-post was affixed an elaborate +set of rules regarding those who might and might not enter. The Master +smiled dryly, and opened the gate. + +Even from without, the loom of the monstrous airship had been visible. +The eye could hardly at first glance take in the vastness of this +stupendous thing, that overshadowed all the central portion of the +huge enclosure. It gave a sense of power, of swift potentialities, of +speed unlimited. It stood there, tense, ready, waiting, with a hum +of engines audible in its vast heart, a thing almost of life, man's +creation but how illimitably greater than man! + +For a moment, as this tremendous winged fabric came to the Master's +view, he halted, and a look of exultation, pride, and joy came over +his face. But only for a moment. Quite at once his dark eyes veiled +themselves with their habitual impassivity. Once more he strode +forward, the others following him. + +Now that they were inside the second barrier--where sleeping men were +scattered more thickly than ever--they stood under the very wings of +the most stupendous hydroplane ever conceived by the brain of man or +executed by the cunning of his hand. + +That this hydroplane had been almost on the moment of departure for +its trial trip, was proved by the sleepers. Two were on the gangplank +leading up to the entrance door in the fuselage. A number who had been +knocking out the last holding-pins of the last shackles that bound it +to its cradle, had fallen to earth, their sledge-hammers near at hand. + +In the pilot-house, a figure had collapsed across the sill of an +observation window. And the engines, purring softly, told that all had +been in readiness for the throwing-in of the clutches that would have +set the vast propellers spinning with roaring speed. + +"Yes, they were certainly just on the dot of getting away," said the +Master, nodding as he glanced at his watch. "This couldn't be better. +Gas, oil, stores, everything ready. What more proof do you require, my +dear Bohannan, of the value of exact coordination?" + +The major could only answer: "Yes, yes--" He seemed quite amazed by +this extraordinary mechanism--gigantic, weird, unreal in the garish +electric lights. Rrisa was frankly staring, for once shaken out of his +fatalistic Mussulman tranquillity. + +As for Captain Alden, he stood there a compact, small figure in his +long coat with the rucksack strapped to his shoulders, peering up with +the eye of the connoisseur. His smile was of contentment absolute. + +"My beauty--ah, my beauty!" he was murmuring. + +Then, in the presence of this mighty thing, silence fell on all. The +major set hands on hips, blinked, puckered his lips, and silently +whistled. His expression was half incredulous, half enthusiastic. + +What Alden was thinking revealed itself by the sparkle of his eyes +through the holes of the mask behind the goggles. Expressionless +though that terribly mutilated face had to remain, you could sense in +the man's whole attitude the exultation of the expert ace as he beheld +the perfect machine. + +The droning of the engines came distinctly to them all, a low, steady, +powerful note, beautiful in its steady undertones of strength. Behind +the little group, a few involuntary exclamations of astonishment and +joy became audible, as some of the Legionaries came into the second +enclosure. + +Without, blows on metal sharply resounded. The Master smiled again, as +he realized his orders were going on with exact precision. + +"That's the wireless they're putting out of commission," thought he, +glancing at his watch again. "No mere untuning of wave-lengths. +Good, old-fashioned hammer-blows! This station won't work again for a +while!" + +Bohannan, meantime, was trying to get some general impression of the +giant plane. Not all the Master's descriptions of it, to him, had +quite prepared him for the reality. Though he well knew all the +largest, biggest machines in the world, this stupendous creation +staggered him. By comparison with the Handley-Page, the Caproni, the +D.H.-4, the Gotha 90-120, the Sikorsky, it spread itself as an eagle +spreads beside a pigeon. + +It lay in a kind of metallic cradle, almost like a ship ready for +launching on its ways. Ahead of it, metal plates stretched away like +rails, running toward the lip of the Palisades. Its quadruple floats, +each the size of a tugboat and each capable of being exhausted of air, +constituted a potential lifting-force of enclosed vacuums that +very largely offset the weight of the mechanism. It was still a +heavier-than-air machine, but the balance could be made nearly +perfect. And the six helicopters, whose cylindrical, turbine-like +drums gleamed with metallic glitters--three on each side along the +fuselage--could at will produce an absolutely static condition of lift +or even make the plane hover and soar quite vertically. + +There the monster lay, outstretching its enormous sextuple wings, each +wing with an area of 376 by 82.5 feet. The non-inflammable celluloid +surfaces shone white as fresh-cut ivory, clean, smooth, unbreakable. +The plane reminded one of some Brobdingnagian dragon-fly, resting for +flight, shimmering with power as it poised for one swift leap aloft +into the night. + +Bohannan, still a bit confused, noted the absence of any exhaust from +the speeding engines. This, too, gave a sense of vast, self-contained +power. He saw stupendous propeller-blades, their varnished surfaces +flicking out high-lights as the incandescents struck them. Motionless +these propellers were; but something in their tense, clean sweep +told of the raging cyclone to which they could whip the air, once the +spinning engines should be clutched in on their shafts. + +The captain's eyes wandered over the whole enormous construction, +towering there above him. He saw rows of lighted windows, each cased +in shining metal; a V-pointed pilot-house--the same where the still +figure had dropped over the sill of the open window--a high-raised +rudder of artful curve, vast as the broadside of a barn; railed +galleries running along the underbody of the fuselage, between the +floats and far aft of them. + +Everything gleamed and flickered with bright metal, varnish, snowy +celluloid. The body of the machine looked capable of housing twice as +many men as the Legion numbered. But everything, after all, was quite +shrunk by the overpowering sweep of the wings. These dwarfed the +fast-gathering group that stood peering up at them, like pygmies under +the pinions of the fabled roc in Sinbad the Sailor's story. + +These stupendous wings, the captain now saw, were not braced together +by hampering struts and wires, but seemed cantilevered into position, +giving a clean run to the structure, great simplicity, and the acme of +mechanical beauty. This giant bird of heaven lay in its nest, free of +pattern, powerful beyond any air-mechanism ever built by man, almost +a living thing, on whose back its captors might ride aloft defying man +and nature, to whatsoever goal they chose. + +"Everything is ready," said the Master. "That is quite obvious. Let us +get aboard now, with no further delay, and be off!" + +He drew a little notebook from his pocket, took a pencil, and faced +the gathering group inside the second stockade. + +"Stow your equipment," he directed "according to your orders. Ten +minutes will be enough for you to unload your machine-guns and all +gear, each in the assigned space. Bring out all the sleeping men and +lay them down along the stockade, here. Injure no man. Valdez, are the +take-off gates, over the Palisade, correctly opened?" + +A dark, thin man saluted, as he answered with a Spanish accent: + +"Yes, sir. Everything is ready, sir." + +"Very well. Now, all to work! And then, each to his place, in +engine-room, cabins, or however and where assigned. Come, come!" + +As the men trailed up the gangplank, that steeply rose to the sliding +door in the fuselage, the Master checked them on his list. Not one was +absent. He shut the notebook with a snap, and slid it back into his +pocket. + +"This goes on well," he commented to the major. "So far, we are within +three minutes, eighteen seconds, of schedule." + +The little group of four stood waiting, watching, while the others +carried out all orders, aboard. There was no hesitation, no confusion. +Each had already learned the exact plan of the airship. Each knew +precisely where every door led, what each passageway meant; each +understood perfectly his own post and what to do there. + +Two by two, Legionaries came down the gangplank, bearing limp bodies. +These they laid in a row along the stockade, till seventeen had +accumulated. No more came. + +A figure appeared in the sliding doorway, and saluted. + +"The last sleeper is out, sir," he reported. + +The Master nodded, and gestured to his three companions. The group of +four ascended the sharp tilt of the plank and entered the airship. As +they did so, Legionaries hoisted the plank aboard, with its tackle, +and lashed it to the waiting chocks. Others could be heard, in the +penetralia of the vast structure, coming, going, busily at work. + +The entrance door slid shut. A bolt shot home. All the Legion was now +aboard, and communication with the ground had been broken. + +The four men found themselves in a brightly lighted corridor that led +directly across the fuselage to a similar door on the other side. This +corridor was of some metal, painted a glossy white. Doors opened out +of it, on either hand. Its length was just a few inches over +forty-two feet. Half-way along it, a wider corridor crossed it at right +angles--the main passage of the ship. + +The Master led the way toward this median corridor. His tall, +big-shouldered figure swung along, triumphant, impressive in the long +coat, dominant and free. Followed by the other three, he turned to the +left, forward of the ship. + +The main corridor, like the other, was flanked by doors. Two or three +stood open, giving glimpses of comfortable staterooms. The men's +footfalls sounded with softened tread on a strip of thick, brown +carpet that made pleasant contrast with the gleaming white walls. +Light from frosted glass circles, flush with walls and ceiling, made +the corridor bright as day. + +The Master walked with the confident precision of one who already +had passed that way a score of times. He opened the third door on the +left--it slid into the wall, instead of swinging, thus economizing +space--and all entered what was obviously the main saloon of the giant +plane. + +This saloon measured seventeen feet six inches, from corridor to +windows, and twenty-nine fore-and-aft. It was furnished with a +center-table, book-cases, easy-chairs, two commodious sofa-lockers, +and had an excellent carpet. Bohannan noted a Victrola, with many +records. + +Like all parts of the ship, its lighting was splendid. Well-curtained +windows gave it a homelike air. At first glance, one would have +thought oneself in a rather luxurious private house; but second +inspection showed all possible construction and furnishings were +of aluminum alloy, of patterns designed to cut weight to the lowest +minimum. + +The walls bore lightly framed photographs of men famous in the +annals of flying, from Santos-Dumont and the Wrights to Gruynemer +and Nosworthy; also pictures of famous machines--the Spad, Bristol +Fighter, Sopwith Pup, 120-135, and others. More conspicuous than +any of these was a framed copy of the International Air Commission's +latest condensed rules. + +Signs of recent occupancy were not wanting. An extinct cigar lay on +the carpet, where it had fallen from the mouth of some airman swiftly +overtaken by sleep. The table bore an open cigar-box, several packs +of cigarettes with loose "fags" scattered round, and a number of +champagne bottles. + +Two of these were opened; one had been emptied. The other had lost +part of its contents. Several champagne glasses stood on the table, +and one lay on its side, where perhaps a falling hand had overset it. +In one of the glasses, a few last, vagrant little bubbles were still +rising from the tall, hollow stem. + +"Hm!" grunted the Master contemptuously. "Fools! Well--there'll be no +alcohol aboard this craft!" He loosened the buckles of his rucksack, +and cast the burden on one of the sofa-lockers. The others did as +much. + +"Shall we stow the gear in our cabins?" asked Bohannan, gesturing at +the doors that led off the saloon. + +"Not yet," answered the Master, glancing at the chronometer that hung +beside the air-rules. "Time enough to get settled, later. Every second +counts, now. We're due to start in seven minutes, you know. Rrisa will +attend to all this. We three have got to be getting forward to the +pilot-house." + +Bohannan nodded. + +"Let's have some air in here, anyhow," said he, turning toward one of +the windows. "This place is damned hot!" + +"We'll need all the heat, soon," the Master commented. "At a few +thousand feet, the engine-exhaust through those radiators won't be any +too much. Forward!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +THE EAGLE OF THE SKY + +He slid open another door. The three men passed through the captain's +cabin and pilot-house. This place measured twelve feet on its longer +axis and nine on its shorter, being of approximately diamond shape +with one point forward in the very nose of the machine, one ending in +a door that gave access to the main, longitudinal corridor, and the +right and left points joining the walls of the backward-sloping prow. +It contained two sofa-lockers with gas-inflated, leather cushions, a +chart-rack, pilot's seat, controls, and instrument-board. + +The whole front was a magnificent stretch of double plate-glass, with +warm air between the sheets to keep snow, frost, or dew from obscuring +the vision. Bright light flooded it. + +Though one window had been slid partly open--the window on the sill of +which the sleeping aviator had lain--a scent of cigarette-smoke still +permeated the place. The Master sniffed with disgust. Then suddenly, +to the great astonishment of Bohannan, he commanded: + +"Bring me that champagne, in the saloon. All of it!" + +The major opened wide eyes, but unquestioningly obeyed. Could it be +possible the Master, in this moment of exultation, was about to break +his lifelong rule and drink a toast, in sparkling bubbles, to success +thus far achieved, to the stupendous voyage now about to begin? + +Wondering, Bohannan departed. The Master gestured for Captain Alden to +seat himself on one of the lockers. Alden kept complete silence as +he sat down, crossed one leg over the other and began to study the +complex apparatus before him. Most of it was familiar; but some new +factors needed inspection. + +The Master peered curiously at him. Surely, this man was odd, unusual. +Most aviators, thus confronted by strange problems, would have grown +loquacious, tried to exhibit their knowledge, asked questions, made +much talk. But Alden held his tongue. + +A look of appreciation, of liking, came upon the Master's face. It was +just the suspicion of a look, for in all this strange man's life no +great show of emotion ever had been permitted to mirror itself upon +his countenance. But still, the look was there. He half opened his +lips, as if to speak, then closed them again, and--like Alden--fell to +studying the control apparatus. + +All was beautifully arranged, all nicely calculated for instant +use. Not here, as in small machines, could the pilot handle his own +engines, tilt his planes, or manipulate his rudders by hand. That +would have been as absurd to think of, as for the steersman of an +ocean liner to work without the intervention of steam steering-gear. + +No, these controls actuated various motors that, using current from +the dynamos, produced the desired action with smooth and certain +promptness. A turn of the wrist, perhaps no more than the touch of +a finger, and the whole vast creation would respond as easily as a +child's toy can be manipulated by a strong man's hand. + +Hooded dials, brightly lighted push-buttons, a telephone headpiece and +receiver combined, and switches all lay in easy reach. Here was the +tachometer, that would give to a fraction the revolutions of each +screw per minute; here the altimeter, to indicate height; here the +air-speed indicator, the compass with reflector, the inclinometer, the +motometers--to show the heat in each engine--and there, the switch to +throw on the gigantic searchlight, with the little electric wheel to +control its direction, as accurately as you would point a wand. + +Throttle and spark, of course, there were none. All engine control was +by telephone, with the engine-room which lay a little aft of midships. +But the controls of the vacuum apparatus were within easy reach, so +that at will the pilot could exhaust the floats, or fill them. + +Here were the starting, stopping, and speed controls of the +helicopters, which were under direct electrical motivation by the +pilot. Here also were the magnetic-anchor release and the air-skid +pump control; here were telephonic connections with the wireless-room +and with the fore-and-aft observation pits, where observers were +already lying on their cushions upon the heavy, metal-reinforced glass +floor-plates. + +"This is really very complete," approved the Master. Not Alden, but +he, had been first to speak. The Master spoke half against his own +wish, but a resistless impulse to make some comment, in this moment of +triumph, possessed him. + +"Only as expected, sir," replied Alden. The Master bit his lip a +second, and said no more. + +Bohannan's return with several champagne bottles in his arms, put an +end to any possible developments the terse conversation might have +had. + +"Well, sir," said the major, "here it all is. And I've got glasses +in my pocket--and a corkscrew, sir. It never does to forget the +corkscrew! We'll drink to happy days, eh, sir?" + +Already the Celt's mouth was watering for draughts of the precious +liquid. Joy pervaded him that, for once at least, the iron rule of the +Master was to be broken, and that the journey was to begin with proper +libations. The Master's curt syllables, however, instantly dispelled +any illusions he might have entertained on that score. + +"Drop them all out that open window, there," commanded the Master. + +"What, sir? Good Pommery? Veuve?" + +"No argument, Bohannan! Out they go!" + +Dismayed, the Celt did the other's bidding, while Alden smiled grimly. +Far below, glass crashed and jangled. + +"What's the idea?" demanded the major ruefully. + +"You know very well, Major, my ruling on alcohol. It doesn't mix with +any motive power on this trip. Moreover, it's customary to christen +every launching with champagne. We've done it!" + +"Well, that's not so bad an idea, at that," Bohannan admitted, +scratching his fiery head. "What name have you given this bus?" + +"_Nissr Arrib ela Sema._" + +"Come again, sir?" + +"Eagle of the Sky, in Arabic. I suppose we'll have to cut that down to +_Nissr_, for everyday use. But at any rate, our craft is christened. +Well, now--" + +He settled himself in the pilot's seat, reached forward and drew +toward him a shining metal shaft. Four stout spokes unfolded; and from +these, quadrants of a rim that easily snapped together. The Master +laid one hand easily on the rim of the big steering-wheel, flung his +cap upon a locker, pulled down the telephone headpiece and snapped it +on. + +He touched a button. The light died in the pilot-house, leaving only +the hooded glows of the dials, switches, and small levers. Night +seemed suddenly to close in about the vast machine. Till now it +had been forgotten, ignored. But as darkness fingered at the panes, +something of the vastness of sky and air made itself realized; +something of the illimitable scope of this adventuring. + +Bohannan slid the window shut and settled himself beside Captain +Alden. He glanced at his wrist-watch, and a thrill of nervous +exultation stabbed him. + +"Only two minutes and six seconds more!" he murmured, gnawing at his +mustache and blinking with excitement. Alden remained calm, impassive +as the Master himself, who now, pressing another button, sent a beam +of wonderful, white light lancing through the darkness. + +Track, buildings, trees all leaped into vivid relief as he tested the +searchlight control. He shot the beam up, up, till it lost itself, +vaguely, in mist and cloud; then flung it even across the river, where +it picked out buildings with startling detail. + +He turned it, finally, square down the launching-way, through the +yawning gates where the track abruptly ended at the brow of the +Palisades--the empty chasm where, if all went right and no mistake +had been made in build, engine-power, or control, the initial leap of +_Nissr Arrib ela Sema_ was to be made. + +Came a moment's wait. Faintly the pulsing of the engines trembled +the fabric of _Nissr_. Finely balanced as they were, they still +communicated some slight vibration to the ship. The Master snicked the +switch of the magnetic-anchor release; and now the last bond that held +_Nissr_ to her cradle was broken. As soon as the air-skid currents +should be set going, she would be ready for her flight. + +This moment was not long in coming. Another turn of a switch, and all +at once, far below, a faint, continuous hissing made itself audible. +Compressed air, forced through thousands of holes at the bottom of the +floats, was interposing a gaseous cushion between those floats and the +track, just as it could do between them and the earth wherever _Nissr_ +should alight. + +Suspended thus on a thin layer of air, perhaps no more than a +sixteenth of an inch thick but infinitely less friction-producing than +the finest ball-bearing wheels and quite incapable of being broken, +the ship now waited only the application of the power in her vast +propellers. + +"Let in numbers two and four," commanded the Master, suddenly, into +the engine-room telephone. "In five seconds after we start, hook up +one and three; and five later, the other two." + +"Aye, aye, sir," came back the voice of Auchincloss, chief engineer. +"Ready, sir!" + +Almost at once, the vibration of the engines altered, grew more +marked, seemed to be taking hold of something with strong but easy +effort. Another trembling made itself felt, as two of the giant +screws, connected by reducing-gears with the engine-shafting--all +three engines being geared to one shaft, but any one being capable of +separate running--began to revolve. + +From astern, a dull, droning hum mounted, rose, grew rapidly in volume +and power. And, as two more screws began to whirl, the Eagle of the +Sky shook herself slightly. She awoke from slumber. Steadily, smoothly +on her air-cushions she began to move forward down the long, sloping +trackway to the brink of the cliff. + +"Lord above!" breathed Bohannan, chewing at his nails. "We're off!" + +Neither the Master nor Captain Alden moved, spoke, manifested any +excitement whatever. Both might have been graven images of coolness. +The Celt, however, got up and leaned at the window-jamb, unable to +keep still. He turned suddenly to Alden. + +"Come, man!" he exclaimed, half angrily. "Got no heart in you, eh? No +interest? Come along out of that, now, and see what's what!" + +He laid hold on the captain, and drew him to the window as the airship +accelerated her plunge along the rails. The hum of the propellers +had now risen to a kind of throaty roar; the craft was shaking with +strange quivers that no doubt would cease if she but once could launch +herself into the air. Under her, in and in, the shining metal rails +came running swiftly and more swiftly still, gleaming silver-like +under the vivid beam of the searchlight. + +Wind began to rise up against the glass of the pilot-house; the wind +of _Nissr's_ own making. + +Cool as if in his own easy-chair in the observatory, the Master sat +there, hand on wheel. Then all at once he reached for the rising-plane +control, drew it over, and into the telephone spoke sharply: + +"Full speed ahead, now! Give her all she's got!" + +A shout, was it? Many shouts, cries, execrations! But where? Over +the roar of the propellers, confused sounds won to the men in the +pilot-house. And all at once, by the dim aura of diffused light +reflected from the huge beam, the major saw dim figures running, off +there to the left, among the buildings of the stockade. + +"For the Lord's sake!" he cried, amazed, with drooping jaw. +"Men--after us! Look there--_look_!" + +The Master remained utterly impassive, eyes keen on the in-rushing +track, now close to its abrupt ending over the vacancy of space. +Captain Alden's pupils narrowed, through the mask-holes, but he said +nothing. Bohannan gripped the captain's shoulder painfully, then +reached for the pistol in his own holster. + +"They're on to us!" he vociferated. "Somebody's got wise--they're--" + +Little red spurts of fire began to jet, among the buildings; the +crackling of shots started popping, like corn-kernels exploding. Dark +figures were racing for the Palisade gate--the gate where, if any +slightest thing went wrong with track or giant plane, the whole vast +fabric might crash down, a tangled mass of wreckage. + +Then it was, that for the first time in all his knowledge of the +Master, Bohannan heard the strange man laugh. + +Joyously he laughed, and with keen pleasure. His eyes were blazing, as +he thrust the rising-plane lever sharply up. + +More shouts volleyed. From somewhere back there in the body of the +ship, a cry of pain resounded. + +Bohannan flung the window-pane to one side, and blazed away like mad +at the attackers. + +A shatter of broken glass burst into the pilot-house. Alden, catching +his breath, quivered. He uttered no outcry, but his right hand went +across and clutched his wounded left arm. + +"Got you?" cried the major, still pumping lead. He paused, jerked +Alden's automatic from its holster and thrust it into the captain's +hand, now red. + +Alden, a bit pale but quite impassive, opened fire through the jagged +hole in the double pane. Accurately the captain fired at dark figures. +One fell. Another staggered; but as the machine swept on, they lost +sight of it. + +Men rose up before the rushing airship. One of the great gates began +to swing shut, far at the end of the track. The Master laughed again, +with the wind whipping at his hair. "Full speed ahead!" he shouted +into the telephone. + +The _Nissr_ leaped into a swifter course. Then all at once she skidded +clear of the track, slanted upward, breasted the air. Her searchlight +blazed. All along her flanks, fire-jets spangled the night. Cries +echoed from her, from the great stockade. + +The Master gave her all the lift the farthest wrench of the levers +would thrust on her. The gate was almost shut now--would she clear it? + +Below, track, earth, everything was spinning in and in. Ahead, above, +yawned vastnesses. The Master could no longer see the gate. A second +of taut thrill-- + +_Crash_! + +The _Nissr_ quivered, staggered, yawed away. The forward starboard +float had struck. A faint yell rose as someone, hurled backward by the +shattered _débris_ of the gate, plunged down the cliff. + +For half a second, the giant plane reeled over the abyss. Her rush and +fury for that half-second threatened to plunge her, a mangled, flaming +wreck, hundreds of feet down on the black, waiting rocks below the +Palisades. + +But engine-power and broad wings, skill of the hand at the levers, and +the good fortune that watches over bold men, buoyed her again. + +Suddenly she lifted. Up at a dizzy angle she sped. + +A thing of life, quivering, sentient, unleashed, the gigantic Eagle +of the Sky--now in heroic flight toward the greatest venturing ever +conceived by the brain of man--steadied herself, lifted on the wings +of darkness, and, freed from her last bonds, leaped quivering and +triumphant into the night. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +EASTWARD HO! + +Not all the stern discipline that had been enforced by the +Master--discipline already like a second nature to this band of +adventurous men--could quite prevent a little confusion on board the +Eagle of the Sky. + +As the huge machine crashed, plunged, staggered, then righted herself +and soared aloft, shouts echoed down the corridors, shots crackled +from the lower gallery and from a few open ports. + +At sound of them, and of faint, far cries from the Palisades, with +a futile spatter of pistol-and rifle-fire, the Master frowned. This +intrusion of disorder lay quite outside his plans. He had hoped for a +swift and quiet getaway. Complications had been introduced. Under his +breath he muttered something as he manipulated the controls. + +The major, laughing a bit wildly, leaned from the shattered window and +let drive a few last pot-shots into the dark, at the faint flicker +of lights along the crest of the black cliff. In the gloom of the +pilot-house, his shoulders bulked huge as he fired. Captain Alden, +staggering back, sat down heavily on one of the sofa-lockers. + +One or two faint shots still popped, along the cliff, with little +pin-pricks of fire in the dark. Then all sounds of opposition +vanished. The _Nissr_, upborne at her wonderful climbing-angle toward +the clouds painted by her searchlight--clouds like a rippled, moonlit +veil through which peeped faint stars--spiraled above the Hudson and +in a vast arc turned her beak into the south. + +Disorder died. Silence fell, save for the whistling of the sudden wind +of the airship's own motion, and for the steadily mounting drone of +the huge propellers. + +"Made it all right, by God!" exclaimed Bohannan, excitedly. "No +damage, either. If the floats had smashed when they hit the gate, +there'd have been a devil of an explosion--vacuum collapsing, you +know. Close call, but we made it! Now, if--" + +"That will do!" the Master curtly interrupted, with steadfast eyes +peering out through the conning windows. Now that the first _élan_ of +excitement had spent itself, this strange man had once more resumed +his mantle of calm. Upborne on the wings of wondrous power, wings +all aquiver with their first stupendous leap into the night-sky, +the Master--impassive, watchful, cool--seemed as if seated in his +easy-chair at _Niss'rosh_. + +"That will do, Major!" he repeated. "None of your extravagance, sir! +No time now for rodomontade!" He glanced swiftly round, saw Captain +Alden by the dim aura of light reflected from the instrument-board. +Blood reddened the captain's left sleeve. + +"Wounded, Captain?" + +"Only a scratch!" + +"Report to Dr. Lombardo. And have Simonds, in charge of the stores, +replace this broken pane." + +"Yes, sir!" + +Alden saluted with a blood-stained hand, slipped his gun back into its +holster and got up. He swayed a little, with the swinging slide of the +air-liner and with the weakness that nerve-shock of a wound brings. +But coolly enough he slid open the door leading into the main +corridor, and passed through, closing the door after him. Where his +hand touched the metal, red stains showed. Neither man of the pair now +left in the pilot-house made any comments. This was all in the day's +work--this and whatever else might befall. + +Spiraling vastly, up, up climbed the giant plane. A colder air nipped +through the broken window. Cloud-wisps began to blur the glass; the +stars began to burn more whitely in a blacker sky. + +The Master touched a button at the left side of the steering-post. +Below his feet, as they rested in their metal stirrups, an aluminum +plate silently slid back. An oblong of dim light blurred up through +the heavy plate-glass sheet it had masked. + +Glancing down, the Master saw far, far below him a slowly rotating +vagueness of waters black and burnished, of faintly twinkling lights. +Lights and water drew backward, as the rotary motion gave way to a +southern course. The Master slowed the helicopters. A glance at the +altimeter showed him 1,965 feet. The compass in its binnacle gave him +direction. + +"Pit number one!" he sharply exclaimed into the phone connecting +therewith. + +"Yes, sir!" came back the observer's voice. + +"Keep a sharp eye out for _Niss'rosh_! Remember, two red lights +showing there!" + +"Yes, sir. I'll report as soon as I pick them up." + +The Master, knowing his course thither should be S.E. by S., drew the +liner to that exact angle. Under his skilled touch at the wheel, the +compass needle steadied to the dot. The searchlight lanced its way +ahead, into the vague drift of the smoke arising from New York. + +"Sight it, yet?" demanded the Master, presently. + +"Yes, sir. Just picked it up. Hold hard, sir!" + +Almost at once, the Master also got a glimpse of two tiny pin-pricks +of crimson, high in air above the city-mass. Swiftly _Nissr_ drew +over the building. Far, very far down in the chasm of emptiness, +tiny strings of light--infinitesimal luminous beads on invisible +threads--marked Broadway, Fifth Avenue, countless other streets. The +two red winks drew almost underneath. + +Down plunged the searchlight, picking _Niss'rosh_ out of the gloom. +Through the floor-glass, the Master could descry it clearly. He +slowed, circled, playing with vacuum-lift, helicopters, engines, as +if they had been keys of a familiar instrument. Presently the liner +hovered, poised, sank, remained a little over 750 feet above the +observatory on the roof-top. + +"Cracowicz!" ejaculated the Master, into the phone again, as his deft +fingers made another connection. A foreign voice answered: "Yes, sir!" +alertly. + +"Ready in the lower gallery now, with the winch and tackles!" bade the +Master. + +Again came: "Yes, sir!" from the man in charge of the three who +already knew perfectly well what was expected of them. As _Nissr_ +slowly turned, a trap opened in the bottom of her lower gallery, +almost directly between the two forward vacuum-floats, and down sped a +little landing nacelle or basket at the end of a fine steel cable. + +Swiftly the electric winch dropped the nacelle, containing three men. +It slowed, at their command, through the phone that led up the wire. +With hardly a jar, the basket landed on the roof. + +The men jumped out, made fast their tackles to Captain Alden's plane +there, leaped in again and signaled: "Hoist away!" + +With noiseless speed the winch gathered in the cable. Up swooped the +nacelle. As it cleared the roof, _Nissr_ purred forward, slid away, +gathered speed over the city where already the alarm had been given. + +In four minutes the men had safely landed in the lower gallery once +more, and the plane was being hoisted by davits and made fast on the +upper platform, known as the take-off, which served as a runway for +planes leaving the ship or alighting thereon. + +Over the light-spangled city the giant air-liner gathered way. +Three or four searchlights had already begun trying to pick her +up. Quiverings of radiance reached out for her, felt into the void, +whirled like cosmic spokes. The Brooklyn Navy Yard whipped the +upper air for her. Down on Sandy Hook, a slim spear of light stabbed +questingly through the night. Then all at once the monster light on +Governor's Island caught her, dazzling into the Master's eyes. + +He only smiled, as he sheered eastward, dropped East River behind and +unloosed the Sky-eagle's course above Brooklyn. + +"Just a little fireworks, as a send-off, Major," said he, notching the +speed ahead, ever ahead, till a whipping gale began to beat in at the +broken pane. "They got word of it pretty quick, eh? I suppose they'll +send up a few planes after us." + +"_After_ us, yes!" exulted the major. "Faith, they'll be after us, all +right--a devil of a long way after!" + +To this the Master gave no answer, but signaled Auchincloss in the +engine-room for full speed. Now a subtle tremor possessed the +vast fabric, mistress of the upper spaces and the night. The +close-compacted lights beneath commenced to sprinkle out into tenuous +dots. The tiny blazing fringe of Coney burned a moment very far +below, then slid away, under the glass flooring. Still heading +sharply upward, with altimeter needle steadily mounting, with the cold +becoming ever greater, the liner flung herself out boldly over the jet +plain of ocean. + +Right into the eye of heaven she seemed to point, into a vast and +profound blackness, that, as the Master snicked off the no-longer +needed searchlight, unleashed myriad stars--stars which leaped out of +the velvet night. Already man and the works of man lay far behind. If +there had been any tentative pursuit, the Legionaries knew nothing of +it. Outdistancing pursuit as an eagle distances sparrows, the liner +gloried in her swift trajectory. + +The Master nodded, well pleased. Bohannan laughed like a boy, and +holstered his gun. He moved over to the starboard window, out of the +gale. With mocking eyes he watched the futile searchlight at the Hook. + +"They've got as much chance of overhauling us as the proverbial +celluloid cat has of catching the asbestos rat," said he. "A clean +getaway, barring the little damage we've taken--this window, and +Alden, and--" + +"Better unpack your kit, and settle down," the Master dryly +interrupted him. "Take a look around and see that everything's +shipshape. Be sure the port and starboard watches are chosen. +Everything's been arranged, already, but in dealing with human +beings there's bound to be a little confusion. They aren't +automata--unfortunately. And, Major!" + +"Yes, sir?" answered Bohannan, who despite his familiarity with the +Master was now constrained to formality. Resentment sounded in his +voice. + +"Send Brodeur to relieve me, in about ten minutes." + +"Yes, sir," repeated the Celt. For a moment, standing there in the +gloom of the pilot-house, he eyed the dim, watchful figure at the +wheel. Then he turned, slid the door, and disappeared. + +As he walked aft, past the aluminum ladder that led to the upper +galleries, he muttered with dudgeon: + +"He rates us two for a nickel, that's plain enough--plain as paint! +Well, all right. I'll stand for it; but there may be others that--" + +He left the words unfinished, and went to do the Master's bidding. + +Alone, the Master smiled. Wine of victory pulsed in his blood and +brain. Power lay under his hand, that closed with joy upon it. Power +not only over this hardy Legion, but power in perspective over-- + +"God, if I can do it!" he whispered, and fell silent. His eyes rested +on the instruments before him, their white dials glowing under the +little penthouses of their metal shields. Altitude now showed 2,437 +feet, and still rising. Tachometers gave from 2,750 to 2,875 r.p.m. +for the various propellers. Speed had gone above 190 miles per hour. +No sign of man remained, save, very far below through a rift in the +pale, moonlit waft of cloud, a tiny light against a coal-black plain +of sea--the light of a slow, crawling steamer--a light which almost at +once dropped far behind. + +Vast empty spaces on all hands, above, below, engulfed _Nissr_. The +Master felt himself alone with air and sky, with power, with throbbing +dreams and visions. + +"If it can be done!" he repeated. "But--there's no 'if' to it, at +all. It _can_ be! It _shall_! The biggest thing ever attempted in this +world! A dream that's never been dreamed, before! And if it can't, +well, a dream like that is far more than worth dying for. A dream that +can come true--by God, that shall come true!" + +His hands tightened on the wheel. You would have said he was trying to +infuse some of his own overflowing strength into the mechanism that, +whirling, zooning with power, needed no more. The gleam in his eyes, +there in the dark pilot-house, seemed almost that of a fanatic. His +jaw hardened, his nostrils expanded. + +This strange man's face was now wholly other than it had been only a +week before, drawn and lined by ennui. Now vast ambitions dominated +and infused it with virile force. + +As he held the speeding air-liner to her predetermined course through +voids of night and mystery, he peered with burning eagerness at the +beckoning stars along the world's far, eastern rim. + +"Behold now, Allah!" he cried suddenly. "_Labbayk_![1] I come!" + +[Footnote 1: _Labbayk_ (I am here) is the cry of all Mohammedan +pilgrims as they approach the holy city of Mecca.] + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +"I AM THE MASTER'S!" + +The arrival of Simonds, with the spare window-pane, and of +Brodeur--one of the boldest flyers out of Saloniki in the last months +of the war--broke in upon the Master's reveries. Only a few minutes +were required to mend the window. During this time, the Master +explained some unusual features of control to the Frenchman, then let +him take charge of _Nissr_. + +"She's wonderful," said he, as Brodeur settled himself at the wheel. +"With her almost unlimited power, her impeccable controls and her +automatic stabilizers, I hardly see what could happen to her." + +"Fire, of course, _m'sieur_," the ace replied, "always has to be +guarded against." + +"Hardly on an all-metal liner. Now, here you see--and here--" + +He finished his explanations, and, satisfied that all was safe, passed +into his own cabin. Rrisa, he found, had already unpacked his kit, and +had arranged it to perfection. Even a copper bowl of khat, the "flower +of paradise," was awaiting him. + +The Master sat down, chewed a few leaves and indulged in a little +time of what the Arabs call _kayf_, or complete relaxation and inner +contemplation--a restful trick he had learned many years ago on the +coast of Yemen. The ticking of the aluminum-cased chronometer, now +marking a little past 2 a.m., soothed him, as did the droning hum of +the propellers, the piping whistle of the ship-made hurricane round +the fuselage, the cradling swing and rock of the air-liner hurling +herself almost due east. + +After some quarter-hour of absolute rest, he rang for his Arab +orderly. Rrisa appeared at once. Already he had got himself into his +military uniform, the one he had worn at Gallipoli when the Master had +saved his life. As he stood there in the doorway, he swung his left +foot out and back, with clicking heels, and made a smart salute. + +"What does _M'almé_ desire?" asked he, in Arabic. + +"I desire to know thy opinion of all this, Rrisa. Tell me, did thy +great prophet, M'hámed, ever ride in such state through the air? Was +Al Burak, his magic horse, on which he traveled to the paradise of the +houris, more swift or mighty than this steed of mine?" + +The Master speaking Arabic, weighted every word with its full meaning. + +"Tell me, Rrisa, what of all this?" + +"Your steed is very swift and very mighty. Your flying ship is very +great," the Arab admitted. "But Allah and his Prophet are greater! +_Allahu akbar!_" (Allah is greatest!) + +"Of course. But tell thou me, Rrisa, if I were to appear at Mecca in +my _Nissr Arrib ela Sema_--my Eagle of the Sky--would not thy people +give me great honors?" + +"My head is at your feet, _M'almé_, and I am yours to do with as +you will, even to the death, but I implore you, by the beard of the +Prophet, do not do this thing!" + +"And why not, Rrisa?" + +"You and I, Master, are _akhawat_.[1] Therefore I can speak true +words. You must not go to Mecca. No man of the _Nasara_ may go +there--and live." + +[Footnote 1: _Akhawat_ signifies in Arabic the tie of sworn +brotherhood between an Arab and one of different blood.] + +"Thou meanest that if we go to Mecca and they capture us, they will +kill us all?" + +"Yea, Master. And I too shall die, for being with you, though I count +that as less than nothing." + +The Master kept a moment's silence, pondering; while, without, the +voices of empty heaven whistled by, from strut and wire, brace +and stay. The wild mystery of that outer night, excluded by the +close-drawn curtains, contrasted strongly with the light and the warm +comfort of the cabin with its snug berth, its aluminum furniture, its +shining walls where were affixed charts and maps, rules, photographs. + +Under the clear, white light, Rrisa anxiously studied his master's +face. Great anxiety had begun to make itself manifest in the Arab's +voice and in his eyes. Another troubled look came, too, as he glanced +at the chronometer. + +It struck, sharply. The Arab, contrary to all his habits and training, +spoke first, without being spoken to. + +"Master," said he, timorously, "excuse the speech I offer without +waiting. But I must ask. This is my hour of night prayer, and I must +bow to Mecca. Whither, from here, lieth The City?" + +The Master raised a hand, glanced at a compass set like a wrist-watch, +peered a moment at one of the charts, and then nodded toward the door +that led into the pilot-house. + +Without delay, Rrisa faced that door and prostrated himself. The +ancient cry: "_La Illaha illa Allah! M'hámed rasul Allah!_" was +raised there in the cabin of the rushing Eagle of the Sky--surely the +strangest place where Moslem prayer was ever offered since first the +Prophet's green banner unfurled itself upon the desert air of Araby. + +Devoutly Rrisa prayed, then with a "_Bismillah_!" (In the name of +Allah!) arose and faced his master. The latter, wise in Eastern ways, +remained gravely unsmiling. Never in all his dealings with the son +of the East had he by word or look offended against Islam. There was, +however, iron determination in his eyes as he demanded: + +"Is it indeed true that in Mecca stands a building called the Ka'aba, +also called _Bayt Ullah_, or Allah's House?" + +"Yea, Master, that is true," answered the Arab, with strange eyes. + +"And is it indeed covered with a wondrous silken and gold cloth, every +year renewed, known as the _kiswah_?" + +"Those words are true." + +"All Moslems greatly revere the Ka'aba?" + +"It is the center of our mighty faith, Master." + +"And thou hast seen it with thine own eyes?" + +"With my own eyes, Master, for I am a _Hadji_.[1]" Attentively the +Arab was now watching the Master. Slowly he continued: "Prayer, with +face to Mecca, alms-giving, the keeping of the fast of Ramadan, and +the pilgrimage to the Ka'aba, these are our law. Yea, Master, I have +myself seen the Ka'aba, and more than once!" + +[Footnote 1: Title among the Arabs and Moslems in general for one +who has performed the pilgrimage to Mecca, a journey which every good +Moslem considers necessary for salvation.] + +A certain trouble had now grown manifest in Rrisa's eyes. His lips +moved silently, as if still praying; but no words were audible. The +Master pondered a moment more, then demanded: + +"Is it true there is a sacred Black Stone in the walls of the Ka'aba, +precious to all followers of the Prophet, from Africa to China and to +the farthest isles? Revered by all the two hundred and thirty million +of your faith?" + +"That is true, _M'almé_. I myself have touched and kissed the Black +Stone." + +"Mecca, the Ka'aba, and the Black Stone are forbidden to all +heretics?" relentlessly pursued the Master. + +"_Wallah_! Yea, so they are to--all who are not of Islam," Rrisa tried +to soften the answer. + +"They tell me," persisted the Master, "the Black Stone is in the +western wall of the Ka'aba, about seven feet from the pavement." + +"That is a lie!" flared Rrisa, with indignation. "It is in the +northeast corner, at the very corner, Master. It is between four +feet and five from the ground. That, and no other, is the true place, +Master, the place of _Hajar el Aswad!_" (Black Stone.) + +"Ah, yes, yes, the books lie," agreed the Master. "And they say, too, +that certain of the Feringi have indeed touched and even kissed the +Black Stone, and still lived." + +Rrisa's face clouded. It burned coppery, with a flush of hot blood +under that dark skin. By the clear white light in the cabin, the +Master closely observed him. Idly he broke off a leaf of the khat, and +nibbled at it. + +"Is that the truth?" he inquired, pitilessly. + +"I must speak truth to you, Master," confessed the Arab, with bitter +shame. "Two of the Feringi--_Nasara_ men like yourself--have indeed +touched and kissed it. Two that we know of. _Shaytan el Kabir_ (the +Great Satan) may have permitted others to do that, but we know of only +two who have done it--and lived." + +"Thou meanest one named Burckhardt, and Sir Richard Burton?" + +The Arab shuddered at sound of those names, and silently nodded. Then +he burst out: + +"Those were their names, _M'almé!_ Those two, disguised as _Hujjaj_, +defiled the Black Stone, which was given by Allah to the first Arabs; +and they both escaped. But many others who have tried--" + +"Have died at the hands of thy people?" + +"_Bismillah_! Yea!" A flash of pride irradiated the dark face +of Rrisa. His figure drew itself erect. Beneath the veneer of +civilization with which life among the Feringi had overlaid him, the +Master sensed the wild, fierce, free soul of the desert man, to whom +the death of the unbelieving dog is sweet. + +"It is well," nodded the Master. Then, suddenly he stood up, faced the +Arab, and bent on him a sternly penetrant look. + +"Rrisa," said he, impressively, his voice slow, grave, sonorous, "only +for me thy bones would today be moldering in the trenches at Gallipoli +or maybe rotting in a Turkish grave. The life that is in thee belongs +to me! That is thy ancient law. Is it not true?" + +"It is true, Master. _Nahnu malihin._" (We have eaten salt together.) + +"And the salt is still in thy stomach?[1]" + +[Footnote 1: Some Arab tribes hold that the salt binds protection for +only twenty-four hours and at the end of that time must be renewed, +otherwise it is "not in their stomachs."] + +"Aye, Master. You are still _dakhil_ (protected) to me." + +"Thou art mine to do with as I will?" + +"I am the Master's!" + +"Treason to me, Rrisa, is treason to thy holy laws. Surely, such +treason would plunge thy soul far into the depths of Eblis. When thy +time cometh to walk across the burning pit, on the bridge as fine and +sharp as the edge of a simitar, if it be laden with treachery to one +who hath saved thy life and whose salt thou hast eaten, surely it +shall not pass over, but shall fall. Far into the deeps of Jehannum it +shall fall, where the Prophet says: 'Stones and men shall be the fuel +of the everlasting flame!'" + +"I am the Master's," repeated Rrisa, with trembling mouth. He raised +his hand to forehead, lips, and heart. "My head is at the Master's +feet!" + +"Forget that not, thou!" cried the Master, dominantly. "_Ru'c'h +halla!_" (Go!) + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +CAPTAIN ALDEN STANDS REVEALED + +Hardly had the trembling Arab salaamed and departed in terror of soul, +knowing not what fearful events might be impending, when Bohannan +appeared. The smile on the Master's lips, the sternly calculating +expression in his eyes, faded into something as near astonishment as +this strange man ever felt, when the major exclaimed: + +"Well, faith now, what d'you think? The most improbable thing you can +imagine!" + +"What may that be, Major?" + +"It's not what it may be, it's what it _is_ that's astonishing me. +We've got a stowaway aboard us!" + +"Stowaway? Impossible!" + +"True, nevertheless. Manderson has just now routed him out of the +starboard storage-room, near the reserve petrol-tank." + +"Hm! Who is he?" + +Bohannan shrugged stout shoulders. + +"Don't know yet. He's still dopy. Just coming out of the effects of +the lethalizing gas." + +"Ah, yes, yes, I see. One of the former crew, I suppose. This is +quite inexcusable. That a man should have been overlooked and left +aboard--it won't do, Major. Kloof was responsible for that room. Kloof +will have to suffer. Any other news?" + +"Travers, the New Zealander, is wounded." + +"Badly?" + +"I'm afraid he's hard hit, sir." + +"Well, I'll have a look at him and at this stowaway. Where are they, +now?" + +"In the lazaret, I suppose you call it. Though what a hospital is, +aboard an air-liner, blest if I know!" + +"Sick-bay, we'll call it. Problems rising already. A stowaway--rather +odd, I must say. Still, as a problem, it's not hard to solve. Nothing +simpler than dropping a man overboard." + +"You--surely, you wouldn't do that!" ejaculated the major, startled. +His rubicund face grew round with amazement. + +"That remains to be seen. Come, let's have a look at him!" + +Together they went out into the brightly lighted main corridor, near +the ladder to the upper gallery, turned to the right and walked aft. +A door, just a little abaft the chartroom and, opposite the Master's +cabin, gave a glimpse of the as yet unoccupied smoke-room. Astern +of this, they passed the dining-saloon with its long table and +its swivel-chairs. Beyond several stateroom doors they came to the +transverse corridor at the other side of which, directly facing the +main corridor, the engine-room door opened. + +Entering the engine-room, they found themselves in a brightly lighted +compartment fifteen feet wide by twenty-six feet, seven inches long. +This compartment contained six Norcross-Brail engines, each capable +of developing 1,150 H.P. The engines were in charge of Auchincloss and +two assistant engineers, who had all six engines filling the room with +a drowsy drone, like ten billion bees humming themselves to sleep in +some mysterious hive. + +So nicely adjusted was every part, so accurately true was every shaft, +bearing, gear, that practically no vibration could be noted. The +voice, in ordinary tones, carried perfectly; and yet in that small +space nearly 7,000 H.P. were being produced and transmitted to the +propellers and to the storage batteries that operated helicopters and +compressed-air system, as well as the lighting-plant of the air-liner. + +As the two men entered the engine-room, the Master nodded to +Auchincloss. He stood a moment gazing at the brightly flecked metal of +the engines, the gleaming walls--hollow and filled with noninflammable +helium gas of great lifting power--the men on watch over all this +splendid mechanism. Then he passed between engines No. 4 and No. 5, +toward the aft wall of the compartment. + +Four doors opened in the bulkhead, there. Two communicated with +storerooms, one opened into the passage that led to the aft +observation pit, the fourth gave access to the sick-bay. This door the +Master slid back. Followed by the major he passed through. + +A small but fully equipped hospital met their eyes. Cots, +operating-table, instrument-cases, sterilizers, everything was +complete. Immaculate cleanliness reigned. On two of the cots, men were +lying. + +Beyond, Captain Alden--still fully dressed--was sitting on a white +metal chair. The captain's face was still concealed by the celluloid +mask, but a profound pallor was visible on the lower portion of his +right cheek and along his left jaw. The set of that jaw showed an +invincible obstinacy that bespoke rebellion. + +Dr. Lombardo, a dark-skinned Florentine, who had been talking with +Captain Alden, turned at the Master's entrance into the sick-bay. +Already Lombardo had put on a white linen jacket. Though he had not +yet had time to change his trousers, he nevertheless presented a +semi-professional air as he advanced to meet the newcomers. + +"I'm glad you're here, sir," said he to the Master. "There's trouble +enough, already." + +"Stowaway?" The Master advanced to the nearer cot. + +"Yes, sir. Perhaps not voluntarily so. You know how he was found." + +"Such oversight is inexcusable!" The Master leaned down and shook the +man by the shoulder. "Come, now!" he demanded. "What's your name?" +Curiously he looked at the stranger, a man of great strength, with +long arms and powerful, prehensile hands that reminded one of an +ape's. + +"It's no use questioning him, sir," put in Lombardo, while the major +peered curiously at Alden and at the other cot where a man was lying +with a froth of bright, arterial blood on his lips. Though this man +was suffering torment, no groan escaped him. A kind of gray shadow had +settled about eyes and mouth--the shadow of the death angel's wings. + +"It's no use, sir," repeated the doctor. "He hasn't recovered +consciousness enough, yet, to be questioned. When he does, I'll +report." + +"Do so!" returned the Master, curtly. "I hardly think we need use much +ceremony in disposing of him." He turned to the other cot. "Well, sir, +how about this man?" + +"I'm--all right, sir," weakly coughed the wounded New Zealander. He +tried to bring a hand to his forehead, but could hardly lift it +from the sheet. The doctor, with compressed lips, slightly shook a +negativing head, as the Master raised interrogative brows. + +"Serious," Lombardo whispered. "Shot through the right lung. Bullet +still there. Severe internal hemorrhage. I may be able to operate, +with Daimamoto assisting, but only in case the patient rallies. We +really need a nurse, on this expedition. Medically speaking, we're +short-handed. However, I'll do my best, sir." + +"I know you will," answered the Master. He stood a moment gazing down +at the New Zealander, with stern face and tight mouth. This man on the +cot had already given much for the expedition, and might give all. Not +without blood and suffering--death, perhaps--was the Master's dream to +come to its fruition. After a moment, the Master turned away. He faced +Captain Alden. + +"Your wound not yet dressed?" demanded he. + +"No, sir, not yet." + +"And why not, pray?" + +"He's simply refused all attention, whatever!" put in the doctor. + +"I have a reason, sir," Alden proffered. + +"No reason can overrule my orders!" the Master exclaimed. "I commanded +you to report to Dr. Lombardo for treatment." + +"Nevertheless, sir, I refuse--" + +"Insubordination will not be condoned, sir!" + +"My reason is valid. When you have heard it, you will understand." + +"State your reason, sir!" + +"I decline--here." + +For a long moment the eyes of the Master met those of Captain Alden, +that strangely peered out at him through the eyeholes of the pink, +celluloid mask. Bohannan and the doctor stood by, curiously observing +this conflict of two wills. Silence came, save for the droning purr +of the engines, the buffeting gusts of wind along the fuselage, the +slight trembling of the gigantic fabric as it hurled itself eastward +through the high air of night. + +"This is inexcusable," said the Master, crisply. "I give you one last +chance. Either permit treatment, or consider yourself under arrest." + +"Before you proceed to such lengths," the captain replied, "I ask one +favor of you." + +"What favor?" + +"Two minutes alone with you, sir." + +"Come with me!" + +The Master turned and left the sick-bay. Alden rose, weakly enough, +and followed him. As the door opened and closed again, the engines +hummed louder, then sank again to their dull murmur. Bohannan remained +with the doctor. + +"Well, faith, can you beat that?" exclaimed the major. "There's an +Ethiopian in the woodpile, sure enough. Something strange, here, I'm +thinking! Something damned strange here!" + +"Is there anything here that _isn't_?" asked Lombardo, with an odd +laugh, as he turned back to the cot where lay the dying New Zealander. + +Alone in his cabin with Captain Alden, the Master faced the +insubordinate member of his crew with an expression of hard +implacability. The captain stood there determinedly confronting him. +His right hand held to the table for support. His left sleeve was +sodden with blood; the left arm, thrust into the breast of his coat, +was obviously numbed, paralyzed. + +"Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself?" coldly demanded the +Master. + +"I repeat that I cannot--and will not--submit myself to any medical +attention from any member of this expedition." + +"This is dangerous ground you're treading!" the Master exclaimed. His +voice had deepened, grown ominous. "You understood perfectly well the +conditions of the undertaking--unquestioning obedience to my orders, +with life-and-death powers in my hands, to punish insubordination." + +"I understand all that, sir," answered the captain. "I understand it +now. Nevertheless, I repeat my refusal to obey." + +"By Allah! There must be some deep cause here!" ejaculated the Master, +his eyes smoldering. "I intend to work my will, but I am a man of +reason. You are entitled to a hearing state your objection, sir. Speak +up!" + +The captain's answer was to raise his right hand and to loosen the +cords securing the celluloid mask. As the Master watched, steadying +his nerves against the shock of what he felt must be a nameless horror +underneath, Alden tore away the mask and threw it upon the table. + +"Here is my reason, sir," said he very quietly, "for not permitting +Lombardo, or any other man here, to dress my wound." + +"Good God!" exclaimed the Master, shaken clean out of his aplomb. The +shock he had expected had come to him, but in far other guise than +he had counted on. With clenched fists and widening eyes he peered at +Alden. + +The face he now suddenly beheld, under the clear white light of the +cabin, was not the hideous, mangled wreck of humanity--The Kaiser's +Masterpiece--he had expected to see. + +No--far, and very far from that! + +It was the face of a woman. One of the most beautiful women his eyes +ever had rested on. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +THE WOMAN OF ADVENTURE + +A moment's utter silence followed. The woman, with another gesture, +drew off the aviator's cap she had worn; she pulled away the +tight-fitting toupee that had been drawn over her head and that had +masked her hair under its masculine disguise. With deft fingers she +shook out the masses of that hair--fine, dark masses that flowed down +over her shoulders in streams of silken glory. + +"Now you see me as I am!" said she, her voice low and just a little +trembling, but wholly brave. "Now, perhaps, you understand!" + +"I--but you--" stammered the Master, for the first time in all his +life completely at a loss, dazed, staggered. + +"Now you understand why I couldn't--wouldn't--let Dr. Lombardo dress +my wound." + +"By the power of Allah! What does all this mean?" The Master's voice +had grown hoarse, unsteady. "A woman--_here_--!" + +"Yes, a woman! The woman your expedition needs and must have, if death +and sickness happen, as happen they will The woman you would never +have allowed to come--the woman who determined to come at all hazards, +even death itself. The woman who--" + +"But, Lord Almighty! Your papers! Your decorations!" + +"Quite genuine," she answered, smiling at him with dark eyes, +unafraid. Through all his dazed astonishment he saw the wonder of +those eyes, the perfect oval of that face, the warm, rich tints of her +skin even though overspread with the pallor of suffering. + +"Madam," said he, trying to rally, "this is past all words No +explanation can make amends for such deception. Still, the secret is +yet yours--and mine. Until I decide what to do, it must be respected." + +Past her he walked, to the door, and snapped the catch. She, turning, +leaned against the table and smiled. He saw the gleam of perfect +teeth. A strange figure she made, with loose hair cascading over her +coat, with knickers and puttees, with wounded arm slung in the breast +of her jacket. + +"Thank you for your consideration," she smiled. "It is on a par with +my conception of your character." + +"Pray spare me your comments," he replied, coldly. He returned to his +desk, but did not sit down there. Against it he leaned, crossed his +arms, and with somewhat lowered head studied her. "Your explanation, +madam?" + +"My papers are _en rčgle_," said she. "My decorations are genuine. +Numbers of women went through the great war as men. I am one of them, +that is all. Many were never discovered. Those who were, owed it to +wounds that brought them under observation. Had I not been wounded, +you would never have known. I could have exercised my skill as a +nurse, without the fact of my sex becoming apparent. + +"That was what I was hoping for and counting on. I wanted to serve +this expedition both as a flyer and as a nurse. Fate willed otherwise. +A chance bullet intervened. You know the truth. But I feel confident, +already, that my secret is safe with you." + +The light on her forehead, still a little ridged and reddened by the +pressure of the edge of the mask, showed it broad, high, intelligent. +Her eyes were deep and eager with a kind of burning determination. The +hand she had rested on the table clenched with the intensity of her +appeal: + +"Let me stay! Let me serve you all! I ask no more of life than that!" + +The Master, knotting together the loose threads of his emotion, came a +step nearer. + +"Your name, madam!" he demanded. + +"I cannot tell you. I am Captain Alfred Alden to you, still. Just +that. Nothing more." + +"You continue insubordinate? Do you know, madam, that for this I could +order you bound hand and foot, have you laid on the trap in the lower +gallery, and command the trap to be sprung?" + +His face grew hard, deep-lined, almost savage as he confronted +her--the only being who now dared stand against his will. She smiled +oddly, as she answered: + +"I know all that, perfectly well. And I know the open Atlantic lies a +mile or two below us, in the empty night. Nevertheless, you shall +not learn my name. All I shall tell you is this--that I am really an +aviator. 'Aviatrix' I despise. I served as 'Captain Alden' for eight +months on the Italian front and twenty-one months on the Western. I am +an ace. And--" + +"Never mind about all that!" the Master interrupted, raising his +hand. "You are a woman! You are here under false colors. You gained +admission to this Legion by means of false statements--" + +"Ah, no, pardon me! Did I ever claim to be a man?" + +"The impression you gave was false, and was calculated to be so. This +is mere quibbling. A lie can be acted more effectively than spoken. +All things considered, your life--" + +"Is forfeited, of course. I understand that perfectly well. And +that means two things, as direct corollaries. First, that you lose +a trained flyer and a woman with Red Cross training; a woman you may +sorely need before this expedition is done. Second, you deny a human +being who is just as eager as you are for life and the spice of +adventure, just as hungry for excitement as you or any man here--you +deny me all this, everything, just because a stupid accident of birth +made me a woman!" + +Her clenched right fist passionately struck the table at her side. + +"A man's world! That's what this world is called; that's what it is! +And you--of all men--are living down to that idea! You--_the Master!_" + +The man's face changed color. It grew a little pale, with deepening +lines. He passed a hand over his forehead, a hand that for the first +time trembled with indecision. His strong teeth gnawed at his lower +lip. Never before had he lacked words, but now he found none. + +The woman exclaimed, her voice incisive, eager, her eyes burning: + +"It is because you _are_ a master of men, and of yourself, that I have +taken this chance! It is because I have heard of your absolute sense +of justice and fair play, your appreciation of unswerving loyalty +and of the heart that dares! Now you understand. I have only one more +thing to say." + +"And what is that?" + +"If you respect my secret and let me go with you on this great +enterprise, no man aboard the Eagle of the Sky will serve you any more +loyally than I. No man will venture more, endure more, suffer more--if +suffering has to be. I give you my word of honor on that, as a fighter +and--a woman!" + +"Your word of honor as--" + +"A woman! Do you understand?" + +Silence again. Their eyes met. The Master's were first to lower. + +"Your life is spared," he answered. "That is a concession to your sex, +madam. Had you been a man, I would inevitably have put you to death. +As it is, you shall live. And you shall remain with us--" + +"Thank God for that!" + +"Till we reach land. There you must leave _Nissr_." + +"I shall not leave it alive," the woman declared, her eyes showing +dilated pupils of resentment, of anger. "I haven't come this far to be +thrown aside like a bit of worthless gear!" + +"You and your machine will be cast off, over the first land we touch," +the Master repeated doggedly. "Whatever information you may give, +cannot injure us, and--" + +"Stop! Not another word like that, to me!" + +Her eyes were blazing now; her right fist quivered in air. + +"You accuse me of treason," she cried. "Oh, what injustice, what--" + +"I accuse you of nothing, save of having deceived us all, and of being +very much _déplacée_ here. The deception shall continue, as far as the +others are concerned. You came to us, as a man. You shall go as +one. Your secret shall be absolutely respected, by me. But, madam, +understand one thing clearly." + +"What is that?" she demanded, still trembling with indignation. + +"The fact that you are a woman has no weight with me, so far as your +persuading me to let you remain of the party may be concerned. Women +have never counted in my life. Their wiles, arts, graces, tears, mean +nothing to me. Their entreaties seem futile. Their arguments appear +like trivial puerilities. + +"Other men are sometimes influenced by such. I tell you now, madam, I +shall not be. Your entreaties will have no weight. When the time +comes for you to leave _Nissr_, I trust you will go quietly, with no +distressing scene." + +A certain grimness showed in the woman's face, making it sternly +heroic as the face of Medea or Zenobia. She answered: + +"Do you think me the type that entreats, that sheds tears, that +exercises wiles?" + +"We won't discuss your personality, madam! This interview is drawing +to an end. Until we reach land, nothing can be done. Nothing, but to +look out for your injury. Common humanity demands that your wound be +dressed. Is it a serious hurt?" + +"Not compared with the hurt you are inflicting, in banishing me from +the Flying Legion!" + +"Come, madam, refrain from extravagant speeches! What is your wound?" + +"A clean shot through the left arm, I think, a little below the +shoulder." + +"I realize, of course, that to have Dr. Lombardo dress it would reveal +your sex. Could you in any way manage the dressing, yourself?" + +"If given antiseptics and bandages, yes." + +"They shall be furnished, also a stateroom." + +"That will excite comment." + +"It may," the Master answered, "but there is no other way. I will +manage everything privately, myself. Then I will let it transpire that +there was some injury to the face, as well, and that the mask had to +be removed. I can let the impression get about that you refused to +allow anyone but me see your mutilated face. + +"I can also hint that I have helped you with the dressing, and have +ordered you to keep your stateroom for a while. When it comes time to +leave _Nissr_, I will dispatch you as a messenger. Thus your secret +will remain intact. Besides, no one will dare inquire into anything. +No one ventures to discuss or question any decision of mine." + +Something of hard arrogance sounded in the Master's voice. The woman +thanked him, her eyes penetrant, keenly intelligent, even a trifle +mocking. One would have said she was weighing this strange man in +the balance of judgment, was finding him of sterling stuff, yet was +perhaps cherishing a hope, not untinged with malice, that some day a +turn of fate might humble him. The Master seemed to sense a little of +this, and took a milder tone. + +"I must compliment you on one thing, madam," said he, with just the +wraith of a smile. "Your acting has been perfection itself. And the +fortitude with which you have borne the discomfort of that mask for +more than a week, to achieve your ends, cannot be too highly praised." + +"Thank you," she replied. "I would have stood _that_ a year, to be one +of your Legion! But now--tell me! Isn't there any possibility of your +reversing your decision?" + +"None, madam." + +"Isn't there anything I can say or do to--" + +"Remember, you told me just a minute ago you were not the type of +woman who entreats!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +THE ENMESHING OF THE MASTER + +She fell silent, biting her full lip. Something in her eyes shamed the +man. Not for all his inflexible sternness could he feel that he had +come out a winner in this, their first encounter. A woman--one of the +despised, ignored creatures--had deceived him. She had disobeyed his +orders. She had flatly thrown down the gage of battle to him, that +she would never leave _Nissr_ alive. And last, she had forced him +into planning to disseminate falsehoods among his crew--falsehoods the +secret of which only she shared with him. + +Unwilling as this man was to have anything in common with her, he +had been obliged to have something in common--to have much. Something +existed; a bond, even if an unpleasant one, had already stretched +itself between these two--the first secret this man ever had shared +with any woman. + +"Captain Alden" smiled a little. The honors of war, so far, lay all in +her camp. + +The Master, feeling this to the inner marrows, humiliated, shaken, +yet through it all not quite able to suppress a kind of grudging and +unwilling tribute of admiration, sought to conceal his perturbation +with a stern command: + +"Now, madam, I will call my orderly and have you escorted to a +stateroom; have you provided with everything needful for your injury. +I trust it is not causing you any severe pain?" + +"Pray don't waste any time or thought on any injury of mine, sir!" the +woman returned. + +"Very well, madam! Resume your disguise!" + +She tried to sweep up her magnificent hair and secure it upon her +head. But with only one hand available this proved impossible. They +both saw there was no way for her to put on the toupee again. + +She smiled oddly, with a half-whimsical, wholly feminine bit of +malice. Her eyes seemed dancing. + +"I'm afraid I can't obey you, sir," she proffered. "You can see for +yourself, it can't be done." + +A dull, angry flush crept over the Master's rather pale face, and lost +itself in the roots of his thick, black hair. Perfectly well he saw +that he was being cornered in an untenable position of half-command, +half-intimacy. Without apparently exercising any wiles, this woman was +none the less involving him in bonds like those the Lilliputians threw +round sleeping Gulliver. + +Anger welled up in his proud heart that anyone--much less a +woman--should thus lower his dignity. But still his manhood dictated +courtesy. He came a few steps nearer, and said: + +"I must admit this seems rather an embarrassing situation. Frankly, it +does not tend to ameliorate the relation between us. You have placed +yourself--and me--in a peculiarly compromising position. I must try to +meet it. + +"Obviously you cannot expect one so unskilled as I, in things +feminine, to help you in the capacity of lady's maid Therefore only +one thing remains to do. Instead of calling my orderly, and having him +show you your stateroom, I must in some way arrange to get you there, +myself." + +"That's kind of you, I'm sure," she answered, half in mockery, half in +gratitude. + +"There I will supply you with medical supplies. In some manner or +other you can manage to do up your hair and resume your disguise. You +will remain in your stateroom--under arrest--until such time as you +are cast loose, tomorrow, in your plane." + +"Tomorrow?" + +"I should say, sometime before night of the day that has already +begun. Food and drink will be brought you, of course." + +"That's very good of you, sir." Her smile tantalized. The curt +laconicism of her manner, in the masculine role, had changed to the +softer ways of womankind. Despite himself, the Master was constrained +to admire her ability as an actress. + +"Of course you realize," she continued, "that to cast me loose in a +plane, with only one serviceable arm, will be equivalent to committing +cold-blooded murder." + +"A mere detail!" + +"A mere detail--to murder a woman?" + +"Pardon me, you misunderstand. I mean, the manner in which you are to +leave Nissr matters little, so long as you leave. I will see that you +are safely landed--that no harm arrives to you. + +"But you--shall not remain with us. Now, kindly stay here. Lock the +cabin door after I have gone, and admit no one until I return. I will +signal you with two triple knocks, thus." + +He illustrated the knocks, on the table, and, unlocking the door, left +the cabin in a black humor. The sound of the woman locking the door +after him, the knowledge that he had been obliged to make up a little +code for readmission, angered him as he rarely had been angered. + +Self-protection, however, demanded these subterfuges. To let the +secret escape, and to be obliged to admit having been deceived by +a woman, would fatally lower his prestige with the Legionaries. How +could he, if known to be the dupe of a woman, command those hard, bold +men? + +Humiliated, yet in his heart thankful that no one had yet penetrated +the secret--as Dr. Lombardo easily might have done, had he laid +forcible hands on "Captain Alden"--the Master set about the necessary +task of himself preparing a stateroom and providing the requisite +medical supplies. + +Lombardo asked no questions. His eyes, however, had grown quizzical. +No one else seemed to notice what the Master was about. Each was busy +in his own place, at his own task. + +Twenty minutes had passed before all was ready and the Master could +return to his cabin. He rapped as agreed, and was admitted, feeling +his cheeks burn at even the analogy between this clandestine entrance +and some vulgar liaison--a thing he scrupulously had avoided all his +life. + +"Come!" he directed. She followed him. Silently he ushered her into +her appointed place. No one had seen them. He followed her into the +little stateroom, closed the door, folded his arms and confronted her +with a grim face. + +"Before leaving you, madam," said he, "I wish to repeat that only +your sex has saved you from summary execution. You are guilty of high +crimes and misdemeanors, in the code of this expedition--guilty of +falsehood and deception that might have introduced fatal complications +into my most carefully evolved plan. + +"Nevertheless, my code as an officer prohibits any punishment +other than this merely nominal arrest. I must offer you temporary +hospitality. Moreover, if you need any assistance in dressing your +wound, I will give it. Common humanity demands that." + +"I don't need anything, thank you," she answered. "I don't ask for +anything, but to stay with the Legion." + +"That's a point I must positively decline to argue, madam," he +informed her, shaking his head. "And, since there is nothing more to +say, I wish you a very good night!" + +Bowing, he left the stateroom. He heard the door-catch snap. Somehow, +in some way as yet inexplicable to him, that sound caused him another +discomfort. For the first time in his life he had been having private +conversation with a woman--conversation that might almost have been +construed as intimate, since it had held secrets. For the first time +he had felt himself outwitted by a woman, beaten, made mock of. Now he +was being shut away from her. + +Inwardly raging as he was, hot, confused, unhorsed, still a strange, +fingering insinuation of something agreeable had begun to waken in +him. The Master, not understanding it at all, or being able to analyze +sensations so foreign to all his previous thought and experience, cut +the Gordian knot of puzzlement by roundly cursing himself, by Allah +and the Prophet's beard, as a fool. And with a vastly disturbed mind +he returned along the white, gleaming corridor--that dipped and swayed +with the swift rush of _Nissr_--back to his own cabin. + +There he found the buzzer of his little desk-telephone intermittently +calling him. + +"Yes, hello?" he answered, receiver at ear, as he sat down in the +swivel-chair of aluminum with its hydrogen cushion. + +The voice of the wireless man, Menendez, reached him. In a soft, +Spanish-accented kind of drawl, Menendez said: + +"Just picked up two important radios, sir." + +"Well? What are they?" + +"International Air Board headquarters, in Washington, has been +notified of our getaway. They have sent out calls for all air-stations +in both America and Europe to put up scout-squadrons to watch for us." + +"What else?" + +"Two squadrons have been started westward across the Atlantic, +already, to capture or destroy us." + +"Indeed? Where from?" The Master spoke coldly. This information, far +from seeming important to him as it had to Menendez, appeared the +veriest commonplace. It was nothing but what he had expected and +foreseen. He smiled grimly as he listened to the radio man's answer: + +"One squadron has started from Queenstown. The other from the +Azores--from St. Michaels." + +"Anything else?" + +"Well, sir, now and then I can get a few words they're sending from +plane to plane--or from plane to headquarters. They mean business. +It's capture or kill. They're rating us as pirates." + +"Very well. Anything really important?" + +"Nothing else, sir." + +"Keep me informed, if any real news comes in. But don't disturb me +with trifles!" + +The Master hung up the receiver, sat back in his chair and stretched +his long, powerful legs under the desk. He set both elbows on the arms +of the chair, joined his finger-tips and sank his lips upon them. + +"I'd better be rigging that vibratory apparatus before long," he +reflected. "But still, there's no immediate hurry. Time enough for all +that. Lots of time." + +His thoughts wandered from _Nissr_ and the great adventure, from the +coming attackers, from the vibratory apparatus, yes from the goal of +all this undertaking itself, back to "Captain Alden." The _who_ and +_why_, the _whence_ and _whither_ of this strange woman urgently +intruded on his mind; nor by any effort of the will could he exclude +these thoughts. + +For a long time, while _Nissr_ roared away eastward, ever eastward +into the night, he sat there, sunk in a profound revery. + +"A woman," he whispered, finally, the words lingering on his lips. "A +woman, eh? Strange--very strange!" + +Resolutely he forced himself to consider the plans he had laid out; +his success thus far; the means he meant to take with the attacking +squadrons; the consummation of his whole campaign so vast, so +overpowering in its scope. + +But through it all, persisted other thoughts. And these, he found, he +could not put away. + +The buzzer of the desk-telephone again recalled him to himself. +"Hello, hello?" + +"I have to report that a third squadron has been ordered into the air, +from Monrovia," announced Menendez. + +"Very well! Anything else?" + +"No, sir." + +The Master hung up the receiver, arose, and seemed to shake himself +from the kind of torpor into which his thoughts of the woman had +plunged him. + +"Enough of this nonsense!" growled he. "There's work to be +done--_work_!" + +With fresh energy he flung himself into the task of planning how to +meet and to repel the three air-fleets now already on the westward +wing to capture or annihilate the Flying Legion. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +STORM BIRDS + +The first slow light of day, "under the opening eyelids of the morn," +found the Master up in the screened observation gallery at the tip of +the port aileron. Here were mounted two of the six machine-guns that +comprised _Nissr's_ heavier armament; and here, too, were hung a dozen +of the wonderful life-preservers--combination anti-gravity turbines +and vacuum-belt, each containing a signal-light, a water-distiller and +condensed foods--that, invented by Brixton Hewes, soon after the close +of the war, had done so much to make air-travel safe. + +Major Bohannan was with the Master. Both men, now in uniform, +showed little effect of the sleepless night they had passed. Wine of +excitement and stern duties to perform, joined with powerful bodies, +made sleeplessness and labor trivialities. + +For an hour the two had been standing there, wrapped in their long +military overcoats, while _Nissr_ had swooped on her appointed ways, +with hurtling trajectory that had cleft the dark. Somewhat warmed by +piped exhaust-gases though the glass-enclosed gallery had been, still +the cold had been marked; for without, in the stupendous gulf of +emptiness that had been rushing away beneath and all about them, no +doubt the thermometer would have sunk below zero. + +_Nissr's_ altitude was now very great, ranging between 17,500 and +21,000 feet, so as to take advantage of the steady eastward setting +wind in the higher air-lanes. A hard, frozen moonlight, from the +steely disk sinking down the western sky, had slashed ink-black +shadows of struts and stanchions across the gallery, and had flung +_Nissr's_ larger shadow down the hungering abysses of the sky that +yawned beneath. + +That shadow had danced and quivered at fantastic speed across dazzling +moonlit fields of cloud, ever keeping pace with the Sky Eagle, now +leaping across immense and silent drifts of white, now plunging, +vanishing into black abysses that showed the ocean spinning backward, +ever backward toward the west. + +With the coming of dawn, the shadow had faded, and the watchers' eyes +had been turned ahead for some first sight of the out-riders of +the attacking fleets. Bohannan, a little nervous in spite of his +well-seasoned fighting-blood, had smoked a couple of cigars in the +sheltered gallery, pacing up and down with coat-collar about his ears +and with hands thrust deep in pockets. The Master, likewise muffled, +had refused all proffers of tobacco and had contented himself with a +few khat leaves. + +Silence had, for the most part, reigned between them. Up here in the +gallery, conversation was not easy. The hurricane of _Nissr's_ flight +shrieked at times with shrill stridor and with whistlings as of a +million witches bound for some infernal Sabbath on the Matterhorn. A +good deal of vibration and of shuddering whipped the wing-tip, too; +all was different, here, from the calm warmth, comfort, and security +of the fuselage. + +The men seemed standing on the very pinion-feathers of some fabled +roc, sweeping through space. Above, below, complete and overwhelming +vacancy clutched for them. The human is not yet born who can stand +thus upon the tip of such a plane, and feel himself wholly at ease. + +As darkness faded, however, and as approaching dawn began to burn +its slow way up the stupendous vaults of space above the eastern +cloud-battlements--battlements flicked with dull crimson, blood-tinged +blotches, golden streaks and a whole phantasmagoria of shifting +hues--something of the oppression of night fell from the two men. + +"Well, we're still carrying on. Things are still going pretty much +O.K., sir," proffered the major, squinting into the East--the cold, +red East, infinitely vast, empty, ripe with possibilities. "A good +start! Close to a thousand miles we've made; engines running to a +hair; men all fitting into the jobs like clockwork. Everything all +right to a dot, eh?" + +The Master nodded silently, keeping dark eyes fixed on the horizon of +cloud-rack. Above, the last faint prickings of stars were fading. The +moon had paled to a ghostly circle. Shuddering, _Nissr_ fled, with +vapory horizons seemingly on her own level so that she appeared at the +bottom of an infinite bowl. Bohannan, feeling need of speech, tried to +be casual as he added: + +"I don't feel sleepy. Do you? Seems like I'd never want to sleep +again. Faith, this _is_ living! You've got us all enthused. And your +idea of putting every man-jack in uniform was bully! Nothing like +uniforms--even a jumble of different kinds, like ours--to cement men +together and give them the _esprit de corps._ If we go through as +we've begun--" + +The Master interrupted him with a cold glance of annoyance. The Celt's +exuberance jarred on his soul. Since the affair with "Captain Alden," +the Master's nerves had gone a little raw. + +Bohannan rallied bravely. + +"Of course," he went on, "it was unfortunate about that New Zealand +chap going West. He looked like a right good fellow. But, well--_c'est +la guerre!_ And I know he wouldn't have chosen a finer grave than the +bottom of the Atlantic, where he's sleeping now. + +"By the way, how did Alden come out? Much hurt, was he? I know, of +course, he didn't go back to the sick-bay. So he couldn't have been +badly wounded, or he would be--" + +"The Arabs have a saying, my dear fellow," dryly answered the Master, +"that one ear is worth ten thousand tongues. Ponder it well!" + +The major's look of astonishment annoyed the Master, even while it +hurt him. He took scant pleasure in rebuffing this old friend; but +certainly "Captain Alden" would not bear discussing. Feeling himself +in a kind of _impasse_ regarding Alden, and fearing some telltale +expression in his eyes, the Master swung up his binoculars and once +more swept the cloud-horizons from northeast to southeast. + +"We ought to be sighting some of the attackers, before long," judged +he. "I'm rather curious to see them--to see flies attacking an eagle. +I haven't had a real chance of testing out the neutralizers. Their +operation, in actual practice, ought to be interesting." + +He tried to speak coldly, impersonally; but he well realized a certain +strained quality in his voice. Even now, in the hour of impending +attack, his thoughts could not remain wholly fixed on the enemy +which--so the wireless informed him--lay only a little beyond the +haze-enshrouded, burning rim of cloudland. + +Despite every effort of the will, he kept mentally reverting to +the midships port stateroom containing the woman. He could not keep +himself from wondering how she was getting on. Her wound, he hoped--he +felt confident--could not be serious. + +Had it been, of course, the woman would have asked some further aid. +And since the moment when he had left her, no word had come to him. +More than once, temptation had whispered: "Go to her! She has deceived +you, and you are master here. But, above all, you are a man!" + +Twice he had all but yielded to this inner voice. But he had not +yielded. Another and a sterner voice had said: "She is an interloper. +She has no rights. Why give her another thought?" + +This voice had prevailed. The Master had told himself only a few hours +more remained, at all events, before the woman should be cast off and +abandoned in whatever strange land might befall--probably Morocco, or +it might be the Spanish colony of Rio de Oro on the western fringes +of the Sahara. After that, what responsibility for her safety or her +welfare would be his? Why, he had none, even now! + +"But, man," the small voice insinuated, "she came to you on an errand +of mercy, to nurse and care for such as might fall ill or be wounded. +It was not wholly the desire for adventure that led her to deceive +you. Her motive was high and fine!" + +"A curse on all women!" retorted the other voice. "Away with her!" And +this sterner voice again prevailed. Still, at thought that sometime +during the day now close at hand he was to see the last of this woman +who had stood there before him in his cabin, with dark eyes looking +into his, with eager, oval face upturned to his, with all that glory +of lustrous hair a flood about her shoulders, something unknown, +unwonted, fingered at the latchets of his heart. + +He realized that he felt strange, uneasy, uprooted from his sober +aplomb. Unknown irritations possessed him. Under his breath he +muttered an Arabic cynicism about woman, from the fourth chapter of +the Koran: "Men shall have the preeminence above women, because Allah +hath caused the one of them to excel the other!" + +Then came the philosophical reflection: + +"Man, you were seeking new sensations, new experiences, to stir your +pulses. This woman has given you many. She has served her purpose. Now +let her go!" + +Thus, seeming to have reached a certain finality of decision, he +dismissed her again from his mind--for perhaps the twentieth time--and +with new care once more began studying the gold-edged, shining clouds +where now a dull, broad arc of molten metal had burned its way out of +the mists. + +The Master slid colored ray-filters over his binoculars, to shield +his eyes from the direct dazzle of the rising sun, and swept that +incandescent arc. Suddenly he drew a sharp intake of breath. + +"Sighted something, eh?" demanded the major, already recovered from +the snub administered. + +"See for yourself, Major, what you make of it! Right in the sun's eye, +and off to southward--all along that fantastic, crimson cloud-castle." + +Bohannan's gaze narrowed through his own glasses. Bracing his powerful +legs against the quivering jar of the aileron, he brushed the horizon +into his eager vision. The glasses steadied. There, of a truth, black +midges had appeared, coming up over the world's rim like a startled +covey of quail. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +THE BATTLE OF VIBRATIONS + +Two, five, a dozen, now a score of tiny specks dotted the mist, +some moving right across the broadening face of the sun itself. As +_Nissr's_ flight stormed eastward, and these gnats drove to the west, +their total rate of approach must have been tremendous; for even as +the men watched, they seemed to find the attackers growing in bulk. +And now more and ever more appeared, transpiring from the bleeding +vapors of dawn. + +"Looks like business, sir!" exclaimed the Celt, his jaw hard. + +"Business, yes." + +"Bad business for us, eh?" + +"It might be, if we had only the usual means of defense. Under +ordinary circumstances, our only game would be to turn tail and run +for it, or cut away far to the south--or else break out a white flag +and surrender. But--" + +"That must be the Azores air-fleet," judged Bohannan. "The others +couldn't have made so much westing, in this time. Faith, what a +buzzing swarm of mosquitoes! I had no idea there were that many planes +on the Azores International Air Board station!" + +"There are many things you have no idea of, Major," replied the +Master, sharply. "That, however, is immaterial. Yes, here come the +fringes of attack, all right enough. I estimate forty or fifty in +sight, already; and there must be a few hundred back of those, between +here and land, north and south. Technically, we're pirates, you know." + +"Pirates?" demanded the major, lowering his glass. + +The Master nodded. + +"Yes," he answered. "That's what the wireless tells us. We'll get +short shrift if--my apparatus fails." + +"How do they make us out pirates?" Bohannan ejaculated. It was not +fear that looked from his blue eyes, but a vast astonishment. His +ruddy face, amazed under the now strengthening light of day, brought a +smile to the Master's lips. + +"What else are we, my dear fellow?" the Master queried. "To seize a +ship--a water-ship or one of the air matters nothing--and to overpower +the crew, kill or wound a few, throw them outboard and sail away, +comes pretty near constituting piracy. Of course the air-rules and +laws aren't wholly settled yet; but we're in a fair way of giving the +big-wigs a whacking precedent to govern the future. I fancy a good +many cases will be judged as _per_ the outcome of this expedition. + +"We're pirates all right--if they catch us. And they _will_ catch +us if they get within gunshot. The next few minutes will settle that +question of whether they're going to, or not!" + +"Nice, comforting prospect!" muttered the Celt. "What do they do +with pirates, anyhow, these days? They can't hang us at the yard-arm, +because airships don't have 'em. Of course they might stage a +hanging-bee with this Legion dangling from the wings, but that would +be pretty hard to manage. It'll be shooting, eh?" + +"Probably, if my neutralizer fails." + +"You're cheerful about it! The neutralizer may be all right, in its +way, but personally I'm rather strong for these!" He laid a hand on +the breech of the Lewis machine-gun mounted in the gallery, its grim +muzzle pointed out through a slit in the colloid screen. "The six guns +we've got aboard, in strategic positions, look like good medicine +to _me_! Wouldn't it be the correct thing to call the gun-crews and +limber up a little? These chaps aren't going to be all day in getting +here, and when they do--" + +"I admire your spirit, Major," interrupted the other, with undertones +of mockery, "but it's of the quality that, after all, can't accomplish +anything. It's the kind that goes against artillery with rifles. +Six guns against perhaps six hundred--and we're not built for rapid +maneuvering. That swarm could sting us a thousand times while we were +giving them the first round. No, no, there's nothing for it now, but +the neutralizer!" + +"My will is made, anyhow," growled Bohannan. "Faith, I'm glad it is!" + +The Master gave no reply, but took from the rail the little phone that +hung there, and pressed a button, four times. He cupped the receiver +at his ear. + +"You, Enemark?" asked he, of the man at the neutralizer far down in +the penetralia of the giant air-liner. "Throw in the first control. +Half-voltage, for three minutes. Then three-quarters, for two; and +then full, with all controls. Understand?" + +"Yes, sir!" came the crisp voice of Enemark. "Perfectly!" + +The Master hung up the receiver, and for a moment stood brooding. +An intruding thought had once more forced itself into his brain--a +thought of "Captain Alden." In case of capture or destruction, what +of the woman? Something very like a pang of human emotion pierced +his heart. Impatiently he thrust the thought aside, and turned with a +quiet smile to Bohannan. + +The major, red with excitement and impatience, still had a hand on the +machine-gun. He was patting it slightly, his face eloquent of longing +and regret. + +"Still pinning your faith to steel-jacketed streams of bullets, +are you, as against ion-jacketed streams of vibrations?" the Master +rallied him. "We shall see, immediately, whether you're right or _I_ +am! Bullets are all well enough in their place, Major, but electrons +are sometimes necessary. Vibrations, Major--I pin my faith to +vibrations." + +"Vibrate all you want to!" exclaimed the Celt, irefully, his eyes on +the thickening swarm of flyers, some of them now plainly visible in +detail against the aching smears of color flung across the eastern +reaches of cloudland. "Vibrate away; but give me _this_!" He fondled +the gleaming gun as if it had been a pet. "I tell you frankly, if +I were in charge here, I'd let the vibrations go to Hell and begin +pumping lead. I'd have all gun-crews at stations, and the second we +got in range I'd open with all six Lewises!" + +"Yes, and Nissr would go crumpling down, a minute later, a blazing +sieve fore-and-aft--wings, tanks, fuselage, everything riddled +with thousands of bullets. Vibration is the trick, I tell you. It's +everything. + +"All life is vibration. When it ceases, that is death--and even dead +matter vibrates. All our senses depend on vibration. Everything we +feel, see, hear, taste, comes to our knowledge through vibrations. +And the receptive force in us is vibration, too. The brain is just one +great, central ganglion for the taking in of vibrations. + +"The secret of life, of the universe itself, is vibration. If we +understood all about that, the cosmos would have no secrets from us. +So now--ah, see there, will you? See, Major, and be convinced!" + +He pointed eastward, into the blazing sunrise. The out-fling of his +arm betrayed more human emotion than he had yet shown. Exultation +leaped to his usually impassive eyes. Surely, had not this +expedition--which he had hoped would give surcease from ennui and stir +the pulses--had it not already yielded dividends? Had it not already +very richly repaid him? + +"See there, now!" he cried again, and gripped the rail with nervous +hands. + +"Lord above!" ejaculated the major, squinting through his binoculars. + + +"Astonished, eh?" demanded the Master, smiling with malice. "Didn't +think it would work, did you? Well, which do you choose now, +Major--bullets or vibrations?" + +"This--this is extraordinary!" exclaimed Bohannan. His glasses +traveled to and fro, sweeping the fringelike fan of the attackers, +still five or six miles away. "Faith, but this is--" + +The binoculars lowered slowly, as Bohannan watched a falling plane. +Everywhere ahead there in the brazier of the dawn, as the two men +stood watching from the wind-lashed gallery of the on-roaring liner, +attackers were dropping. All along the line they had begun to fall, +like ripe fruit in a hurricane. + +Not in bursts of flame did they go plunging down the depths, gyrating +like mad comets with long smoke-trailers and redly licking manes of +fire. Not in shattered fragments did they burst and plumb the abyss. +No; quite intact, unharmed, but utterly powerless they fell. + +Some spiraled down, like dead leaves twirling in autumnal breezes, +with drunken yaws and pitches. Others in long slants volplaned toward +the hidden sea, miles below the cloud-plain. A few pitched over and +over, or slid away in nose-dives and tail-spins. But one and all, as +they crossed what seemed an invisible line drawn out there ahead of +the onrushing Eagle of the Sky, bowed to some mysterious force. + +It seemed almost as if _Nissr_ were the center of a vast sphere that +moved with her--a sphere through which no enemy could pass--a sphere +against the intangible surface of which even the most powerful engines +of the air dashed themselves in vain. + +And still, as others and still others came charging up to the attack +like knights in joust, they fell. One by one the white wool cushions +of the cloud, gold-broidered by the magic needles of the sun, received +them. One by one they faded, vanished, were no more. + +So, all disappeared. Between a hundred and a hundred and twenty-five +planes were silently, swiftly, resistlessly sent down in no more +than twenty minutes, while the watchers stood there in the gallery, +fascinated by the wondrous precision and power of this new and +far-outflung globe of protection. + +And again the blood-red morning sky grew clear of attackers. Again, +between high heaven's black vault and the fantastic continent of cloud +below, nothing remained but free vacancy. The Master smiled. + +"Vibrations, my dear Major!" said he. "Neutralize the currents +delivered by the magnetos of hostile planes to their spark-plugs, and +you transform the most powerful engines into inert matter. Not all the +finely adjusted mechanism in the world, nor the best of petrol, nor +yet the most perfect skill is worth _that_," with a snap of the strong +fingers, "when the spark dies. + +"My device is the absolute ruler of whatever spark I direct it +against. Our own ignition is screened; but all others within the +critical radius become impotent. So you recognize, do you not, the +uselessness of machine-guns? The groundlessness of any fears about the +Air Patrol's forces?" + +"Lord, but this is wonderful!" Bohannan ejaculated. "If we'd only had +this in the Great War, the Hun would have been wiped out in a month!" + +"Yes, but we didn't have it," the Master smiled. "I've just finished +perfecting it. Put the last touches on it hardly twenty-four hours +ago. If there's ever another war, though--ah, see there, now! Here +comes one lone, last attacker!" + +He pointed. Far at the edge of empty cloudland, now less blood-stained +and becoming a ruddy pink under the risen sun, a solitary aerial +jouster had grown visible. + +The last attacker appeared a feeble gnat to dance thus alone in the +eye of morning. That one plane should, unaided, drive on at _Nissr's_ +huge, rushing bulk, seemed as preposterous as a mosquito trying +to lance a rhinoceros. The major directed a careful lens at this +survivor. + +"He has his nerve right in his baggage with him," announced the Celt. +"Sure, he's 'there.' There can be no doubt he's seen the others fall. +Yet--what now? He's turning tail, eh? He's on the run?" + +"Not a bit of it! He's driving straight ahead. That was only a dip and +turn, for better air. Ah, but he's good, that fellow! There's a man +after my own heart, Major. Maybe there's more than one, aboard that +plane. But there's one, anyhow, that's a real man!" + +The Master pondered a moment, then again picked up the phone. + +"Enemark?" he called. "That you?" + +"Hello! Yes, sir! What orders, sir?" + +"Cut off the ray! Quick, there!" + +"Yes, sir!" And through the phone the Master heard the _snick_ of a +switch being hastily thrown. + +"What's the idea, now?" demanded the major, astonished. "Going to let +that plane close in on us, and maybe riddle us?" + +The Master smiled, as he made answer: + +"I'll chance the bullets, this time. There's a _man_ on board that +plane. A _man_! And we--need men!" + +The Master smiled, as he made answer: + +"I'll chance the bullets, this time. There's a man on board that +plane. A man! And we--need men!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +LECLAIR, ACE OF FRANCE + +Swooping, rising, falling like a falcon in swift search of quarry, the +last plane of the Azores squadron swept in toward the on-rushing Eagle +of the Sky. + +Undismayed by the swift, inexplicable fall of all its companions, it +still thrust on for the attack. In a few minutes it had come off the +port bows of the giant air-liner, no more than half a mile distant. +Now the watchers saw it, slipping through some tenuous higher +cloud-banks that had begun to gather, a lean, swift, wasplike +speedster: one of the Air Control Board's--the A.C.B.'s--most rapid +aerial police planes. The binoculars of the Master and Bohannan drew +the machine almost to fingers' touch. + +"Only one man aboard her, with a machine-gun," commented the Master, +eyes at glass, as he watched the flick of sunlight on the attacker's +fuselage, the dip and glitter of her varnished wings, the blur of her +propellers. Already the roaring of her exhaust gusted down to them. + +"Ah, see? She's turning, now. Banking around! We may catch a burst of +machine-gun fire, in a minute. Or, no--she's coming up on our tail, +Major. I think she's going to try and board us!" + +"You going to let her?" protestingly demanded Bohannan. His hand +twitched against the butt of the Lewis. "In two seconds I could sight +an aft gun, sir, and blow that machine Hell-for-leather!" + +"No, no--let that fellow come aboard, if he wants," the Master +commanded. And with eager curiosity in his dark eyes, with vast wonder +what manner of human this might be who--all alone after having seen +more than a hundred comrades plunge--still ventured closing to grips, +the Master watched. + +The air-wasp was already swerving, making a spiral glide, coming up +astern with obvious intentions. As the two men watched--and as a score +of other eyes, from other galleries and ports likewise observed--the +lean wasp carried out her driver's plan. With a sudden, plunging +swoop, she dived at the Eagle of the Sky for all the world like a hawk +stooping at quarry. + +A moment she kept pace with the air-liner's whirring rush. She +hovered, dropped with a wondrous precision that proved her rider's +consummate skill, made a perfect landing on the long take-off that +stretched from rudders to wing observation galleries, atop the liner. + +Forward on _Nissr_ the wasp ran on her small, cushioned wheels. She +stopped, with jammed-on brakes, and came to rest not forty feet abaft +the Eagle's beak. + +Quite at once, without delay, the little door of the pilot-pit in the +wasp's head swung wide, and a heavily-swaddled figure clambered out. +This figure stood a moment, peering about through goggles. Then with a +free, quick stride, he started forward toward the gallery where he had +seen Bohannan and the Master. + +The two awaited him. Confidently he came into the wind-shielded +gallery on top of _Nissr's_ port plane. He advanced to within +about six feet, stopped, gave the military salute--which they both +returned--and in a throaty French that marked him as from Paris, +demanded: + +"Which of you gentlemen is in command, here?" + +"_Moi, monsieur!_" answered the Master, also speaking French. "And +what is your errand?" + +"I have come to inform you, in the name of the A.C.B.'s law, +recognized as binding by all air-traffic, that you and your entire +crew are under arrest." + +"Indeed? And then--" + +"I am to take charge of this machine at once, and proceed with it as +per further instructions from International Aerial headquarters at +Washington." + +"Very interesting news, no doubt," replied the Master, unmoved. "But I +cannot examine your credentials, nor can we negotiate matters of such +importance in so off-hand a manner. This gallery will not serve. Pray +accompany me to my cabin?" + +"_Parfaitement, monsieur!_ I await your pleasure!" + +The stranger's gesture, his bow, proclaimed the Parisian as well as +his speech. The Master nodded. All three proceeded in silence to +the hooded companion-way at the forward end of the take-off, that +sheltered the ladder. This they descended, to the main corridor. + +There they paused, a moment. + +"Major," said the Master, "pardon me, but I wish to speak to +our--guest, alone. You understand." + +The major's glance conveyed a world of indignant protest, but he +obeyed in silence. When he had withdrawn into the smoke-room, where +a brooding pipe would ill divert his mind from various wild +speculations, the Master slid open his own cabin door, and extended a +hand of welcome toward it. + +"_Aprčs vous, monsieur!_" said he. + +The A.C.B. officer entered, his vigorous, compact figure alive with +energy, intelligence. The Master followed, slid the door shut and +motioned to a chair beside the desk. This chair, of metal, was itself +placed upon a metal plate. The plate was new. At our last sight of the +cabin, it had not been there. + +Taking off goggles and gauntlets, and throwing open his sheepskin +jacket, the Frenchman sat down. The Master also plate was new. At our +last sight of the cabin, it had not been there. + +Taking off goggles and gauntlets, and throwing open his sheepskin +jacket, the Frenchman sat down. The Master also sat down at the desk. +A brief silence, more pregnant than any speech, followed. Each man +narrowly appraised the other. Then said the newcomer, still in that +admirable French of his: + +"You understand, of course, _n'est-ce pas?_ that it is useless to +offer any resistance to the authority of the A.C.B." + +"May I take the liberty of inquiring what your credentials may be, and +with whom I have the great pleasure of speaking?" returned the Master. +His eyes, mirroring admiration, peered with some curiosity at the +dark, lean face of the Frenchman. + +"I," answered the other, "am Lieutenant André Leclair, formerly of +the French flying forces, now a commander in the International Air +Police." + +"Leclair?" demanded the Master quickly, his face lighting with a +glad surprise. "Leclair, of the Mesopotamian campaign? Leclair, the +world-famous ace?" + +"Leclair, nothing else. I deprecate the adjectives." + +The Master's hand went out. The other took it. For a moment their grip +held, there under the bright white illumination of the cabin--for, +though daylight had begun fingering round the drawn curtains, the +glow-lamps still were burning. + +The hand-clasp broke. Leclair began: + +"As for you, monsieur, I already know you, of course. You are--" + +The Master raised a palm of protest. + +"Who I am does not matter," said he. "I am not a man, but an idea. My +personality does not count. All that counts is the program, the plan I +stand for. + +"Many here do not even know my name. No man speaks it. I am quite +anonymous; quite so. Therefore I pray you, keep silent on that matter. +What, after all, is the significance of a name? You are an ace, an +officer. So am I." + +"True, very true. Therefore I more keenly regret the fact that I must +place you under arrest, and that charges of piracy in the high air +must be lodged against you." + +"Thank you for the regret, indeed," answered the Master dryly. Save +for the fact that this strange man never laughed and seldom smiled, +one would have thought the odd twinkle in his eye prefaced merriment. +"Well, what now?" + +The Frenchman produced a silver cigarette-case, opened it and extended +it toward the man now technically his prisoner. As yet he had said no +word concerning the tremendous execution done the air police forces. +His offer of the cigarettes was as calm, as courteous as if they two +had met under circumstances of the most casual amity. The Master waved +the cigarettes away. + +"Thank you, no," said he. "I never smoke. But you will perhaps pardon +me if I nibble two or three of these khat leaves. You yourself, from +your experience in Oriental countries, know the value of khat." + +"I do, indeed," said the other, his eyes lighting up. + +"And may I offer you a few leaves?" + +"_Merci_! I thank you, but tobacco still satisfies." The Frenchman +lighted his cigarette, blew thin smoke, and cast intelligent, keen +eyes about the cabin. Said he: + +"You will not, of course, offer any resistance. I realize that I am +here among a large crew of men. I am all alone, it is true. You could +easily overpower me, throw me into the sea, and _voilŕ_--I die. But +that would not be of any avail to you. + +"Already perhaps a hundred and fifty air police have fallen this +morning. It is strange. I do not understand, but such is the fact. +Nevertheless, I am here, myself. I have survived--survived, to convey +organized society's message of arrest. Individuals do not count. +They are only representatives of the mass-power of society. _N'est-ce +pas?_" + +"Quite correct. And then--" + +"Sooner or later you must land somewhere for petrol, you know. For +_essence_, eh? Just as sea-pirates were wiped out by the coming of +steam-power, which they had to adopt and which forced them to call +at ports for coal, so air-pirates will perish because they must have +essence. That is entirely obvious. Have I the honor of your signed +surrender, my dear sir, including that of all your men?" + +"Just one question, please!" + +"A thousand, if you like," smiled the Parisian, inhaling smoke. His +courtesy was perfect, but the glint of his eye made one think of a +tiger that purrs, with claws ready to strike. + +"What," demanded the Master, "is your opinion of the peculiar and +sudden fall of all your companions?" + +"I have no opinion as to that. Strange air-currents, failure of +ignition due to lack of oxygen--how do I know? A thousand things may +happen in the air." + +"Not to more than a hundred planes, all in a half-hour." + +The Frenchman shrugged indifferent shoulders and smiled. + +"It does not signify, in the least," he murmured. "I am here. That +suffices." + +"Do you realize that I, perhaps, have forces at my command which may +negative ordinary conditions and recognized laws?" + +"Nothing can negative the forces of organized society. I repeat my +request, _monsieur_, for your unconditional written surrender." + +The Master's hand slid over the desk and rested a moment on a button +there. A certain slight tremor passed through the Frenchman's body. +Into his eyes leaped an expression of wonder, of astonishment. His +mouth quivered, as if he would have spoken; but he remained dumb. +The hand that held his cigarette, resting on his knee, relaxed; the +cigarette fell, smoldering, to the metal plate. And on the instant the +fire in it died, extinguished by some invisible force. + +"Are you prepared to sign a receipt for this airship, if I deliver her +over to you, sir?" demanded the Master, still speaking in French. He +smiled oddly. + +No answer. A certain swelling of the Frenchman's throat became +visible, and his lips twitched slightly, but no sound was audible. A +dull flush mounted over his bronzed cheek. + +"Ah, you do not answer?" asked the other, with indulgent patronage. +"I assume, however, that you have the authority to accept my surrender +and that of my crew. I assume, also, that you are willing to sign for +the airship." He opened a drawer, took a paper, and on it wrote a few +words. These he read over carefully, adding a comma, a period. + +Leclair watched him with fixed gaze, struggling against some strange +paralysis that bound him with unseen cords of steel. The Frenchman's +eyes widened, but remained unblinking with a sort of glazed fixity. +The Master slid the paper toward him on the desk. + +"_Voilŕ, monsieur!_" said he. "Will you sign this?" + +A shivering tremor of the Frenchman's muscles, as the ace sat there so +strangely silent and motionless, betrayed the effort he was making +to rise, to lift even a hand. Beads of sweat began to ooze on his +forehead; veins to knot there Still he remained seated, without power +to speak or move. + +"What? You do not accept?" asked the Master, frowning as with +puzzlement and displeasure. "But, _allons donc!_ this is strange +indeed. Almost as strange as the fact that your whole air-squadron, +with the sole exception of your own plane, was dropped through the +clouds. + +"I have no wish unnecessarily to trouble your mind. Let me state the +facts. Not one of those machines was precipitated into the sea. No +life was lost. Ah, that astonishes you?" + +The expression in the Frenchman's face betrayed intense amazement, +through his eyes alone. The rest of his features remained almost +immobile. The Master smiling, continued: + +"The fleet was dropped to exactly one thousand feet above the sea. +There the inhibition on the engines was released and the engines began +functioning again. So no harm was done. But not one of those machines +can rise again higher than one thousand feet until I so choose. + +"They are all hopelessly outdistanced, far down there below the +cloud-floor. Midges could catch a hawk as readily as _they_ could +overhaul this Eagle of the Sky. + +"Nowhere within a radius of twenty-five miles can any of those planes +rise to our level. This is curious, but true. In the same way, on much +the same principle, though through a very different application of it, +you cannot speak or move until I so desire. All your voluntary muscles +are completely, even though temporarily, paralyzed. The involuntary +ones, which carry on your vital processes, are untouched. + +"In one way, _monsieur_, you are as much alive as ever In another you +are almost completely dead. Your fleet has enjoyed the distinction of +having been the very first to serve as the object of a most important +experiment. Likewise, your own person has had the honor of serving +as material for another experiment, equally important--an experiment +whose effect on your body is similar to that of the first one on the +air-fleet. + +"You can hear me, perfectly. You can see me. I ask you to watch me +closely. Then consider, if you please, the matter of placing me under +arrest." + +His hand touched a small disk near the button he had first pressed; +a disk of some strange metal, iridescent, gleaming with a peculiar +greenish patina that, even as one watched it, seemed to blend into +other shades, as an oil-scum transmutes its hues on water. + +Now a faint, almost inaudible hum began to make itself heard. This hum +was not localized. One could not have told exactly whence it came. It +filled the cabin with a kind of soft murmuring that soothed the senses +like the drowsy undertone of bees at swarm. + +For a moment nothing happened. Then the pupils of Leclair's eyes began +to dilate with astonishment. Immovable though he still remained, the +most intense wonder made itself apparent in his look. Even something +akin to fear was mirrored in his gaze. Again his lips twitched. Though +he could form no word, a dry, choking gasp came from his throat. + +And there was cause for astonishment; yes, even for fear. A thing +was beginning to take place, there in the brightly lighted cabin of +_Nissr_, such as man's eye never yet had beheld. + +The Master was disappearing. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +MIRACLES, SCOURGE OF FLAME + +His form, sitting there at the desk--his face wearing an odd +smile--had already begun to grow less distinct. It seemed as if the +light surrounding him had faded, though everywhere else in the cabin +it still gleamed with its accustomed brilliance. And as this light +around him began to blur into a russet dimness, forming a sort of +screen between him and visibility, the definition of his outlines +began to melt away. + +The Master still remained visible, as a whole; but the details of him +were surely vanishing. And as they vanished, faintly a high-light, a +shadow, a bit of metal-work showed through the space where he sat. +He seemed a kind of dissolving cloud, through which now more and more +clearly objects beyond him could be distinguished. Impossible though +this seemed, it was indubitably true. + +As he disappeared, he kept speaking. The effect of that undiminished +voice, calm, slow, resonant, issuing from that disintegrating vapor, +stirred the hair on the captive Frenchman's neck and scalp. + +"Vibration, _mon cher monsieur_," said he, "is everything. According +to the researches of the Ecole Polytechnique, in Paris--no doubt you, +yourself, have studied there, _n'est-ce pas?_--vibration of the first +octave from 2 to 8 per second, give us no sense-impression. From the +fourth to the fifteenth octave, 16 to 32,768 per second, we get sound. +The qualities of the 16th to the 24th are--or have been, until I +investigated--quite unknown. The 25th to the 35th, 33, 554, 432 to 34, +859, 738, 868 vibrations per second, give us electricity. Thence to +the 45th, again unknown. + +"The 4th to the 48th give us heat. The 49th gives light The 50th, +chemical rays, vibrating 1, 125, 899, 906, 842, 624 per second. The +51st to the 57th have never been touched by anyone save myself. The +X-ray group extends from the 58th to the 61st octave. The 62d, with 4, +611, 686, 427, 889, 904 vibrations per second, is a field where only +I have worked. And beyond these, no doubt, other octaves extend with +infinite possibilities. + +"You will note, _monsieur_," he continued, while the dun penumbra +still more and more withdrew him from Leclair's sight, "that great +lacunae exist in the scale of vibratory phenomena. Some of the +so-called lower animals take cognizance of vibrations that mean +nothing to us. Insects hear notes far above our dull ears. Ants are +susceptible to lights and colors unseen to our limited eyes. The +emperor-moth calls its mate--so says Fabre--by means of olfactory +vibrations totally uncomprehended by us. The universe is full of hues, +tones, radiant phenomena that escape us, because our senses are not +attuned to them." + +Steadily he spoke, and steadily the humming drone that filled the +cabin kept its undertones that lulled, that soothed. The Frenchman, +staring, hardly breathed. Rigid he sat and pale, with sweat now slowly +guttering down his face, his jaws clamped hard and white. + +"If the true nature of the universe could suddenly be revealed to our +senses," went on the Master, now hardly more than a dull blur, "we +could not survive. The crash of cosmic sound, the blaze of strange +lights, the hurricane forces of tempestuous energies sweeping space +would blind, deafen, shrivel, annihilate us like so many flies swept +into a furnace. Nature has been kind; she has surrounded us with +natural ray-filters of protection." + +His voice now seemed issuing from a kind of vacancy. Save for a slight +darkening of the air, nothing was visible of him. He went on: + +"With our limited senses we are, in a way, merely peeping out +of little slits in an armored conning-tower of life, out at the +stupendous vibratory battles of the cosmos. Other creatures, in other +planets, no doubt have other sense-organs to absorb other vibratory +ranges. Their life-experiences are so different from ours that +we could not possibly grasp them, any more than a blind man could +understand a painting. + +"Nor could those creatures understand human life. We are safe in +our own little corner of the universe, comfortably sheltered in our +vestments of clay. And what we cannot understand, though it is all +perfectly natural, we call religion, the supernatural, God." + +From a great vacancy, the Master's words proceeded. Leclair, tugging +in vain at the bonds that, invisible yet strong as steel, held him +powerless, stared with wild eyes. + +"There is no supernatural," said the now disembodied voice. "What +we call spirit, psychic force, hypnosis, spiritualism, the fourth +dimension, is really only life on another scale of vibration. If we +could see the whole scale, we would recognize it as a vast, coherent, +perfectly natural and rational whole, in which we human beings fill +but a very insignificant part. That, monsieur, is absolutely true! + +"I have investigated, I have ventured along the coasts of the unknown +vibratory sea, and even sailed out a little way on the waters of +that unknown, mysterious ocean. Yet even I know nothing. What you are +beholding now is simply a slightly new form of vibratory effect. The +force that is holding you paralyzed on that chair is still another. A +third, sent down the air-squadron. And--there are many more. + +"I am not really vanishing. That is but an illusion of your senses, +unable to penetrate the screen surrounding me. I am still here, as +materially as ever. Illusion, _mon cher monsieur_, yet to you very +real!" + +The voice seemed moving about. The Frenchman now perceived something +like a kind of moving blur in the cabin. It appeared a sort of hole of +darkness, in the light; and yet the light shone through it, too. + + +Every human eye has a blind spot in the retina. When things pass over +this blind spot, they absolutely vanish; the other eye supplies the +missing object. To the French ace it seemed that his eyes were all +blind spots, so far as the Master was concerned. The effect of this +vacancy moving about, shifting a chair, stirring a book, speaking to +him like a spirit disembodied, its footfalls audible but its own self +invisible, chilled the captive's blood. The Master said: + +"Now I have totally disappeared from your eye or any other material +eye. I cannot even see myself! No doubt dwellers on some other planet +would perceive me by some means we cannot imagine. Yet I am materially +here. You feel my touch, now, on your shoulder. See, now I put out the +lights; now I draw aside this curtain, and admit the golden morning +radiance. You see that radiance, but you do not see me. + +"A miracle? _Pas du tout!_ Nothing but an application of perfectly +natural laws. And so--well, now let us come back to the matter under +discussion. You have come hither to arrest me, _monsieur_. What do +you think of arresting me, now? I am going to leave that to your own +judgment." + +His voice approached the desk. The chair moved slightly, and gave +under his weight. Something touched the button on the desk. Something +pressed the iridescent metal disk. The humming note sank, faded, died +away. + +Gradually a faint haze gathered in the chair. Dim, brownish fog +congealed there. The chair became clouded with it; and behind that +chair objects grew troubled, turbid, vague. + +The ace felt inhibitions leaving him. His eyes began to blink; his +half-opened mouth closed with a snap; a long, choking groan escaped +his lips. + +"_Nom de Dieu_" he gulped, and fell weakly to rubbing his arms and +legs that still prickled with a numb tingling. "_Mais, nom de Dieu!_" + +The Master, now swiftly becoming visible, stood up again, smiled, +advanced toward his guest--or prisoner, if you prefer. + +A moment he stood there, till every detail had grown as clear as +before this astounding demonstration of his powers. Then he stretched +forth his hand. + +"Leclair," said he, in a voice of deep feeling, "I know and appreciate +you for a man of parts, of high courage and devotion to duty in the +face of almost certain death. The manner in which you came ahead, even +after all your companions had fallen--in which you boarded us, with +the strong probability of death confronting you, proves you the kind +of man who wins and keeps respect among fighting men. + +"If you still desire my arrest and the delivery to you of this +air-liner, I am at your complete disposal. You have only to sign the +receipt I have already written. If--" and for a moment the Master +paused, while his dark eyes sought and held the other's, "if, +_monsieur_, you desire to become one of the Flying Legion, and to take +part in the greatest adventure ever conceived by the mind of man, in +the name of all the Legion I welcome you to comradeship!" + +"_Dieu_!" choked the lieutenant, gripping the Master's hand. "You mean +that I--I--" + +"Yes, that you can be one of us." + +"Can that be true?" + +"It is!" + +The Master's right hand closed firmly on Leclair's. The Master's other +hand went out and gripped him by the shoulder. + +To his feet sprang the Frenchman. Though still shaken and trembling, +he drew himself erect. His right hand loosened itself from the +Master's; it went to his aviator's helmet in a sharp salute. + +"_J'y suis! J'y reste!_" cried he. "_Mon capitaine!_" + +The day passed uneventfully, at high altitudes, steadily rushing +into the eye of the East. In the stillness and solitude of the upper +air-lanes, _Nissr_ roared onward, invincibly, with sun and sky above, +with shining clouds piled below in swiftly retreating masses that spun +away to westward. + +Far below, sea-storm and rain battled over the Atlantic. Upborne on +the wings of the eastward-setting wind, _Nissr_ felt nothing of such +trivialities. Twice or thrice, gaps in the cloud-veil let dim ocean +appear to the watchers in the glass observation pits; and once +they spied a laboring speck on the waters--a great passenger-liner, +worrying toward New York in heavy weather. The doings of such, and of +the world below, seemed trivial to the Legionaries as follies of dazed +insects. + +No further attack was made on _Nissr_, nor was anything seen of any +other air-squadron of International Police. The wireless picked up, +however, a cross-fire of dazed, uncomprehending messages being hurled +east and west, north and south--messages of consternation, doubt, +anger. + +The world, wholly at a loss to understand the thing that had come upon +it, was listening to reports from the straggling Azores fleet as it +staggered into various ports. Every continent already was buzzing with +alarm and rage. In less than eighteen hours the calm and peaceful ways +of civilization had received an epoch-making jar. All civilization was +by the ears--it had become a hornet's nest prodded by a pole no one +could understand or parry. + +And the Master, sitting at his desk with reports and messages piling +up before him, with all controls at his finger-tips, smiled very +grimly to himself. + +"If they show such hysteria at just the initial stages of the game," +he murmured, "what will they show when--" + +The Legion had already begun to fall into well-disciplined routine, +each man at his post, each doing duty to the full, whether that +duty lay in pilot-house or cooks' galley, in engine-room or pit, in +sick-bay or chartroom. The gloom caused by the death and burial at +sea of Travers, the New Zealander, soon passed. This was a company +of fighting men, inured to death in every form. And death they had +reckoned as part of the payment to be made for their adventuring. +This, too, helped knit the fine mass-spirit already binding them +together into a coherent, battling group. + +A little after two in the afternoon, _Nissr_ passed within far sight +of the Azores, visible in cloud-rifts as little black spots sown +on the waters like sparse seeds on a burnished plate of metal. This +habitation of man soon slipped away to westward, and once more nothing +remained but the clear, cold severity of space, with now and then a +racing drift of rain below, and tumbling, stormy weather all along the +sea horizons. + +The Master and Bohannan spent some time together after the Azores had +been dropped astern and off the starboard quarter. "Captain Alden" +remained in her cabin. She reported by phone, however, that the wound +was really only superficial, through the fleshy upper part of the +left arm. If this should heal by first intention, as it ought, no +complications were to be expected. + +Day drew on toward the shank of the afternoon. The sun, rayless, +round, blue-white, lagged away toward the west, seeming to sway in +high heaven as _Nissr_ took her long dips with the grace and swiftness +of a flying falcon. Some time later the cloud-masses thinned and broke +away, leaving the world of waters spread below in terrible immensity. + +As the African coast drew near, its arid influences banished vapor. +Now, clear to the up-curving edge of the world, nothing could be seen +below save the steel-gray, shining plains of water. Waves seemed not +to exist. All looked smooth and polished as a mirror of bright metal. + +At last, something like dim veils of whiteness began to draw and +shimmer on the eastern skyline--the vague glare of the sun-crisped +Sahara flinging its furnace ardor to the sky. To catch first sight +of land, the Master and Bohannan climbed the ladder again, to the +take-off, and thence made their way into the starboard observation +gallery. There they brought glasses to bear. Though nothing definite +could yet be seen through the shrouding dazzle that swaddled the +world's rim, this fore-hint of land confirmed their reckonings of +latitude and longitude. + +"We can't be more than a hundred and fifty miles west of the +Canaries," judged the major. "Sure, we can eat supper tonight in an +oasis, if we're so minded--with Ouled Naďls and houris to hand round +the palm-wine and--" + +"You forget, my dear fellow," the Master interrupted, "that the first +man who goes carousing with wine or women, dies before a firing-squad. +That's not the kind of show we're running!" + +"Ah, sure, I did forget!" admitted the Celt. "Well, well, a look at a +camel and a palm tree could do no harm. And it won't be long, at this +rate, before--" + +A sudden, violent concussion, far aft, sent a quivering shudder +through the whole fabric of the giant liner. Came a swift burst of +flame; black, greasy smoke gushed from the stern, trailing on the +high, cold air. Long fire-tongues, banners of incandescence, flailed +away, roaring into space. + +Shouts burst, muffled, from below. A bell jangled madly. The crackle +of pistol-fire punched dully through the rushing swiftness. + +With a curse the major whirled. Frowning, the Master turned and +peered. _Nissr_, staggering, tilted her beak sharply oceanward. At a +sick angle, she slid, reeling, toward the burnished, watery floor that +seemed surging up to meet her. + +A hoarse shout from the far end of the take-off drew the Master's eyes +thither. With strange agility, almost apelike in its prehensile power, +a human figure came clambering up over the outer works, clutching at +stays, wires, struts. + +Other shouts echoed thinly in the rarefied, high air. The climber +laughed with savage mockery. + +"I've done for _you_!" he howled exultantly. "Fuel-tanks afire--you'll +all go to Hell blazing when they explode! But first--I'll get the boss +pirate of the outfit--" + +Swiftly the clutching figure scrabbled in over the rail, dropped +to the metal plates of the take-off--now slanting steeply down and +forward--and broke into a staggering run directly toward the gallery +where stood Bohannan and the Master. + +At the little ladder-housing sounded a warning shout. The head and +shoulders of Captain Alden became visible there. In Alden's right hand +glinted a service-revolver. + +But already the attacker--the stowaway--had snatched a pistol from his +belt. And, as he plunged at full drive down the take-off platform, he +thrust the pistol forward. + +Almost at point-blank range, howling maledictions, he hurled a +murderous fusillade at the Master of the now swiftly falling Eagle of +the Sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +"CAPTAIN ALDEN" MAKES GOOD + +The crash of shattered glass mingled with the volley flung by the +murderously spitting automatic of the stowaway. From the forward +companion, at the top of the ladder, "Captain Alden" fired--one shot +only. + +No second shot was needed. For the attacker, grunting, lunged forward, +fell prone, sprawled on the down-slanting plates of the take-off +platform. His pistol skidded away, clattering, over the buffed metal. + +"As neat a shot as the other's was bad," calmly remarked the Master, +brushing from his sleeve some glittering splinters of glass. A lurch +of _Nissr_ threw him against the rail. He had to steady himself there, +a moment. Down his cheek, a trickle of blood serpented. "Yes, rather +neat," he approved. + +He felt something warm on his face, put up his hand and inspected red +fingers. + +"Hm! A sliver from that broken shield must have cut me," said he, and +dismissed it wholly from his mind. + +Major Bohannan, with chromatic profanity, ran from the gallery. +"Captain Alden" drew herself up the top rounds of the ladder, emerged +wholly from the companion and likewise started for the wounded +interloper. Both, as they ran aft toward the fallen man, zigzagged +with the pitch and yaw of the stricken airship, slipped on the plates, +staggered up the incline. + +And others, from the aft companion, now came running with cries, their +bodies backgrounded by the leaping flames and smoke that formed a wake +behind the wounded Eagle of the Sky. + +Before the major and Alden could reach the stowaway, he rallied. Up +to hands and knees he struggled. He dragged himself away to starboard. +Trailing blood, he scrambled to the rail. + +The major snatched his revolver from its holster. Up came the +"Captain's" gun, once more. + +"No, no!" the Master shouted, stung into sudden activity. "Not that! +Alive--take him alive!" + +The stowaway's answer was a laugh of wild derision; a hideous, shrill, +tremulous laugh that rose in a kind of devilish, mockery on the air of +that high level. For just a second the man hung there, swaying, at the +rail. Beyond him, up the tilt of the falling _Nissr_, brighter flames +whipped back. Came a burst of smoke, another concussion, a shuddering +impact that trembled through the whole vast air-liner. White-hot +fire ribboned back and away, shredded into little, whirling gusts of +incandescence that dissolved in black smoke. + +"Take me alive, eh?" the stowaway shouted, madly. "Ha-ha! I see you! +You're all dead men, anyhow! I'll go first--show you I'm not afraid!" + +With astonishing agility he leaped. Hands on rail, with a last supreme +burst of the energy that innervated his dying body, he vaulted clear. +Out and away he hurled himself. Emptiness of space gathered him to its +dizzy, vacant horror. + +The Master, quite unmindful of the quickening bloodstream down his +face and neck, looked sharply--as if impersonally interested in some +problem of ballistics--at the spinning, gyrating figure that with +grotesque contortions plummeted the depths. + +Over and over, whirling with outflung arms and legs, dropped the +stowaway. Down though _Nissr_ herself was plunging, he fell faster. +Swiftly his body dwindled, shrinking to a dwarf, an antlike thing, a +black dot. Far below on the steely sea-plain, a tiny bubble of white +leaped out, then faded. That pinpoint of foam was the stowaway's +grave. + +"Very good," approved the Master, unmoved. He lurched against the +rail, as a sudden maneuver of the pilot somewhat flattened out the +air-liner's fall. The helicopters began to turn, to buzz, to roar +into furious activity, seeking to check the plunge. The major came +staggering back. But quicker than he, "Captain Alden" was at the +Master's side. + +"He shot you?" the woman cried, pointing. + +"Bah! A splinter of glass!" And the Master shook off the blood with +a twitch of his head. "That was a neat bull's-eye you made on him, +Captain. It saves you from punishment for forgetting you were under +arrest; for climbing the ladder and coming above-decks. Yes--I've got +to rescind my order. You're at liberty. And--" + +"And I stay with the expedition, sir?" demanded Alden, her hand going +out in an involuntary gesture of appeal. For the first time, she +was showing eagerness of a feminine sort. But she suppressed it, +instantly, and stood at attention. "If I have done you any service, +sir, reward me by letting me stay!" + +"I will see. There may be no expedition to stay with. Now--" + +"Life-belts, sir? And take to the small planes?" came a voice from +the companion-way. The face of Manderson--of him who had found the +stowaway--appeared there. Manderson looked anxious, a trifle pale. +Aft, more figures were appearing. In spite of the iron discipline of +the Legion, signs of disorder were becoming evident. "We're hard hit, +sir," Manderson reported. "Every man for himself, now? Orders, sir?" + +"My orders are, every man back to his post!" cried the Master, his +voice a trumpet-call of resolution. "There'll be no _sauve qui peut_, +here!" He laid a hand on the butt of his pistol. "Back, every man of +you!" + +Came another dull, jarring explosion. _Nissr_ reeled to port. The +Legionaries trickled down the companion-ladders. From somewhere below +a cry rose: "The aft starboard float--it's gone! And the stabilizer--" + +Confused sounds echoed. _Nissr_ sagged drunkenly, lost headway and +slewed off her course, turning slowly in the thin, cold air. Her +propellers had been shut off; all the power of her remaining engines +had now been clutched into the helicopter-drive. + +The Master, indifferently smearing off the blood from his neck, made +his way toward the forward companion. He had to hold the rail with one +hand, for now the metal plates of the observation gallery were sharply +canted. _Nissr_ had got wholly out of control, so far as steerage-way +was concerned; but the rate of her fall seemed to have been a trifle +checked. + +Alden and the major followed their chief to the companion. All three +descended the ladder, which hung inward and away from them at a sharp +angle. They reached the strangely inclined floor of the main corridor, +and, bracing themselves against the port wall, worked their way aft. + +Not all the admirable discipline of the Legion could prevent some +confusion. Such of the men as were on duty in pilot-house, pits, +wireless, or engine-room were all sticking; but a number of off-duty +Legionaries were crowding into the main corridor. Among them the +Master saw Leclair and Rrisa. No one showed fear. The white feather +was not visible; but a grim tension had developed. Death, imminent, +sobers the boldest. + +From the engine-room, shouts, orders, were echoing. The engine-room +door flung open. Smoke vomited--thick, choking, gray. Auchincloss +reeled out, clutching at his throat. + +"What chance?" the Master cried, staggering toward him. + +"If--the fire spreads to the forward petrol-tanks, none!" gasped the +chief engineer. "Aft pit's flooded with blazing oil. Gorlitz--my God!" + +"What about Gorlitz?" + +"Burned alive--to a crisp! I've got four extinguishers at work. Two +engines out of commission. Another only limping! And--" + +He crumpled, suddenly, dropping to the metals. The Master saw through +the clinging smoke, by the dimmed light of the frosted disks, that the +skin of the engineer's face and hands was cooked to a char. + +"If he's breathed flame--" began the major. Alden knelt beside him, +peered closely, made a significant, eloquent gesture. + +"Volunteers!" shouted the Master, plunging forward. + +Into the fumes and smother, half a dozen men fought their way. From +the bulkheads they snatched down the little fire-grenades. The Master +went first. Bohannan was second, with Rrisa a close third. Leclair in +his forward rush almost stumbled over Alden. The "Captain," masked and +still unrecognized as a woman by any save the Master, was thrust back +from the door by the Celt, as she too tried to enter. + +"No, not you!" he shouted. "You, with only one arm--faith, it's worse +than useless! Back, you!" Then he and many plunged into the blazing +engine-room. + +Thus they closed with the fire-devil now licking ravenous tongues +about the vitals of _Nissr_. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +HOSTILE COASTS + +An hour from that time, the air-liner was drifting sideways at low +altitudes, hardly five hundred feet above the waves. A sad spectacle +she made, her wreckage gilded by the infinite splendors of the sun now +lowering toward the horizon. Her helicopters were droning with all the +force that could be flung into them from the crippled power-plant. Her +propellers--some charred to mere stumps on their shafts--stood starkly +motionless. + +Oddly awry she hung, driven slowly eastward by the wind. Her rudder +was burned clean off; her stern, warped, reeking with white fumes that +drifted on the late afternoon air told of the fury that had blazed +about her. Flames no longer roared away; but the teeth of their +consuming rage had bitten deep. Where the aft observation pit had +been, now only a twisted net of metal-work remained, with all the +plate-glass melted and cracked away. The body of Gorlitz, trapped +there, had mercifully fallen into the sea. That ghastly thing, at any +rate, no longer remained. + +Four Legionaries were in the pilot-house: the Master, Bohannan, +Leclair, and "Captain Alden." For the most part, they held silence. +There was little for them to say. At length the major spoke. + +"Still sagging down, eh?" he commented, his eyes on the needle of the +altimeter. "Some situation! Two men dead and others injured. Engines +crippled, propellers the same, and two floats so damaged we couldn't +stay on the surface if we came down. Well, by God!" + +Leclair looked very grim. + +"I regret only," said he in broken English, "that the stowaway escaped +us. Ah, _la belle exécution_, if we had him now!" + +The Master, at the starboard window, kept silence. No one sat at the +wheel. Of what use could it have been? The Master was looking far +to eastward, now with the naked eye, now sweeping the prospect with +binoculars. He was studying the African coast, clearly in sight as a +long, whitish line of sand with a whiter collar of foamy surf, fifteen +miles away. + +A few gulls had begun to show--strange, small gulls, yellow-beaked +and swift. Off to northward, a native dhow was beating down-wind with +full-bellied lateen sail, with matting over its hatches. Heat was +beginning to grow intense, for no longer was _Nissr_ making a gale +that cooled; no longer was she at high, cold levels. Africa, the +tropics, had suddenly become real; and the sudden contrast oppressed +them all. + +Through the shimmering, quivering air, an arid pallor extended up the +eastern sky; a pale, milky illumination, dull-white over the desert, +that told of the furnace into which _Nissr_ was drifting--if indeed +she could survive till she reached land. The glasses showed tawny +reaches of sand, back a little from the coast; and beyond these, low +hills, or rather rolling dunes, lay empurpled by vibrant heat-hazes. + +"It won't be much like navigating over that Hell-spot, three or four +miles in the air," muttered Bohannan. He looked infinitely depressed. +The way he gnawed at his red mustache showed how misadventure had +raveled his nerve. + +No one answered him. Leclair lighted a cigarette, and silently +squinted at Africa with eyes long inured to the sun of that land of +flame. Alden, at the other window, kept silence, too. That masked +face could express no emotion; but something in the sag of the woman's +shoulders, the droop of her head, showed how profound and intense was +her suffering. + +"Faith, are we going to make it, chief?" asked the major, impatiently. +Not his the temperament that can wait in silence. He made a singular +figure as he lounged there at the pilot-house window, huge elbows +on the sill. One hand was wrapped in bandages, well saturated with +croton-oil. Chars and burns on his uniform showed where blazing petrol +from the final explosion had spattered him. + +His eyes, like the Master's, were bloodshot, inflamed. Part of his red +crop of hair had been singed off, and all his eyelashes were gone, +as well as half his bushy red brows. But the ugly set of his jaw, the +savage gleam of his eyes showed that no physical pain was depressing +him. His only trouble was the thought that perhaps the expedition of +the Flying Legion had ended before it had really begun. + +"What chance, sir?" he insisted. "It's damned bad, according to my way +of thinking." + +"What you think and what you say won't have any weight with this +problem of aerial flotation," the Master curtly retorted. "If we make +land, we make it, that's all, sir." He relapsed into silence. Leclair +muttered, in Arabic--his words audible only to himself--an ancient +Islamic proverb: "Allah knows best, and time will show!" Then, after a +moment's pause, the single word: "Kismet!" + +Silence again, in which the Master's brain reviewed the stirring +incidents of the past hour and a half--how the stowaway had evaded +Dr. Lombardo's vigilance and (thoroughly familiar with every detail +of _Nissr_) had succeeded in making his way to the aft port fuel-tank, +from which he had probably drained petrol through a pet-cock and +thereafter set it afire; how the miscreant had then scrambled up the +aft companion-ladder, to shoot down the Master himself; and how only +a horrible, nightmare fight against the flames had saved even this +shattered wreck of the air-liner. + +It had all been Kloof's fault, of course, and Lombardo's. Those +two had permitted this disaster to befall, and--yes, they should be +punished, later. But how? The Master's mind attacked this problem. +Each of the four Legionaries in the pilot-house was busy with his own +thoughts. + +On and on toward the approaching shores of Africa drifted the wounded +Eagle of the Sky, making no headway save such as the west wind +gave her. Steadily the needle of the altimeter kept falling. The +high-pitched drone of the helicopters told that the crippled engines +were doing their best; but even that best was not quite enough. + +Like a tired creature of the air, the liner lagged, she sank. Before +half the distance had been covered to that gleaming beach, hardly six +hundred feet lay between the lower gallery of _Nissr_ and the long, +white-toothed waves that, slavering, hungered for her gigantic body +and the despairing crew she bore. + +Suddenly the Master spoke into the engine-room telephone. + +"Can you do any better?" exclaimed the chief. "This is not enough!" + +"We're doing our best, sir," came the voice of Frazier, now in charge. + +"If you can possibly strain a point, in some way, and wring a little +more power out of the remaining engines--" + +"We're straining them beyond the limit now, sir." + +The Master fell silent, pondering. His eyes sought the dropping +needle. Then the light of decision filled his eyes. A smile came to +his face, where the deep gash made by the splinter of glass had been +patched up with collodion and cotton. He plugged in on another line, +by the touch of a button. + +"Simonds! Is that you?" + +"Yes, sir," answered the quartermaster, in charge of all the stores. + +"Have you jettisoned everything?" + +"All we can spare, sir. All but the absolute minimum of food and +water." + +"Overboard with them all!" + +"But, sir--" + +"And drop the body of Auchincloss, too. This is no time for +sentiment!" + +"But--" + +"My order, sir!" + +Five minutes later, cases, boxes, bales, water-tanks, began spinning +from open ports and down through the trap-door in the lower gallery. +Then followed the seared corpse of Auchincloss, a good man who had +died in harness, fighting to the end. Those to whom the duty was +assigned of giving his metal-weighted body sea burial turned away +their eyes, so that they might not see that final plunge. But +the sound of the body striking the waves rocketed up to them with +sickening distinctness. + +Lightened a little, _Nissr_ seemed to rally for a few minutes. The +altimeter needle ceased its drop, trembled and even rose _.275_ +degrees. + +"God! If we only had an ounce more power!" burst out the major, his +mouth mumbling the loose ends of that flamboyant mustache. The Master +remained quite impassive, and made no answer. Bohannan reddened, +feeling that the chief's silence had been another rebuff. And on, +on drifted _Nissr_, askew, up-canted, with the pitiless sunlight +of approaching evening in every detail revealing--as it slanted in, +almost level, over the far-heaving infinitudes of the Atlantic--the +ravages wrought by flame. + +Bohannan could not long be silent. The exuberance of his nature burst +forth with a half-defiant: + +"If _I_ were in charge, which I'm not, I'd stop those damned +helicopters, let her down, turn what power we've got into the +remaining propellers, and taxi ashore!" + +"And probably sink, or break up in the surf, on the beach, there!" +curtly rejoined the Master. "Ah! _What_?" + +His binoculars checked their sweep along the coast, which in its +absolute barrenness looked a place of death for whatever might have +life there. + +"You see something, _mon capitaine?_" asked Leclair, blowing smoke +from his cigarette. "Allow me also to look! Where is it?" + +"Just to north of that gash--that wady, or gully, making down to the +beach. You see it, eh?" + +Slowly the French ace swept the glasses along the surf-foamed fringes +of that desolation. Across the lenses no tree flung its green promise +of shade. No house, no hut was visible. Not even a patch of grass +could be discerned. The African coast lay stretched out in ivory +nakedness, clean, bare, swept and garnished by simooms, by cruel heat, +by the beatings of surf eternal. + +Back of it extended an iron hinterland, savage with desert spaces of +sun-baked, wrinkled earth and sand here and there leprously mottled +with white patches of salt and with what the Arabs call _sabkhŕh_, +or sheets of gypsum. The setting sun painted all this horror of +desolation with strange rose and orange hues, with umbers and pale +purples that for a moment reminded the Master of the sunset he had +witnessed from the windows of _Niss'rosh_, the night his great plan +had come to him. Only eight days ago, that night had been; it seemed +eight years! + +Carefully Leclair observed this savage landscape, over which a +brilliant sky, of luminous indigo and lilac, was bending to the vague +edge of the world. Serious though the situation was, the Frenchman +could not repress a thought of the untamed beauty of that scene--a +land long familiar to him, in the days when he had flown down these +coasts on punitive expeditions against the rebellious Beni Harb clans +of the Ahl Bayt, or People of the Black Tents. Africa, once more seen +under such unexpected circumstances, roused his blood as he peered at +the crude intensity of it, the splendid blaze of its seared nakedness +under the blood-red sun-ball now dropping to rest. + +All at once his glass stopped its sweep. + +"Smoke, my Captain!" he exclaimed. "See, it curls aloft like a lady's +ringlet. And--beyond the wady--" + +"Ah, you see them, too?" + +The major's glass, held unsteadily in his unbandaged hand, was now +fixed on the indicated spot, as was "Captain Alden's." + +"I see them," the Master answered. "And the green flag--the flag of +the Prophet--" + +"The flag, _oui, mon capitaine!_ There are many men, but--" + +"But what, Lieutenant?" + +"Ah, do you not see? No horses. No camels. That means their oasis is +not far. That means they are not traveling. This is no nomadic moving +of the Ahl Bayt. No, no, my Captain. It is--" + +"Well, what?" + +"A war-party. What you in your language call the--the reception +committee, _n'est-ce pas?_ Ah, yes, the reception committee." + +"And the guests?" demanded the major. + +"The guests are all the members of the Flying Legion!" answered the +Frenchman, with another draw at his indispensable cigarette. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +THE WAITING MENACE + +"Ah, sure now, but that's fine!" exclaimed the major with delight, his +eyes beginning to sparkle in anticipation. "The best of news! A little +action, eh? I ask nothing better. All I ask is that we live to reach +the committee--live to be properly killed! It's this dying-alive that +kills _me_! Faith, it tears the nerves clean out of my body!" + +"That is a true Arab idea, Major," smiled Leclair. "To this extent you +are brother to the Bedouin. They call a man _fatis_, as a reproach, +who dies any other way than fighting. May you never--may none of +us--ever suffer the disgrace of being _fatis_!" + +"There's not much danger of that!" put in the Master. "That's a big +war-party, and we're drifting ashore almost exactly where they're +waiting. From the appearance of the group, they look like Beni Harb +people--'Sons of Fighting' you know--though I didn't expect we'd sight +any of that breed so far to westward." + +"Beni Harb, eh?" echoed the Frenchman, his face going grim. "Ah, +_mes amis_, it is with pleasure I see that race, again!" He sighted +carefully through his glass, as _Nissr_ sagged on and on, ever closer +to the waves, ever nearer the hard, sun-roasted shores of Africa. +"Yes, those are Beni Harb men. _Dieu_! May it be Sheik Abd el Rahman's +tribe! May I have strength to repay the debt I owe them!" + +"What debt, Lieutenant?" asked the chief. + +Leclair shrugged his shoulders. + +"A personal matter, my Captain! A personal debt I owe them--with +interest!" + +"You will have nearly a score and a half of good fighting men to help +you settle your account," smiled the Master. Then, to Bohannan: "It +looks now, Major, as if you'd have a chance to try your sovereign +remedy." + +"Faith! Machine-guns, eh?" + +"Yes, provided we get near enough to use them." + +"No vibrations this time, eh?" demanded the Celt, a bit of +good-humored malice in his voice. "Vibrations are all very well in +their way, sir, but when it comes to a man-to-man fight--" + +"It's not that, Major," the chief interrupted. "We haven't the +available power, now, for high-tension current. So we must fall back +on lesser means. + +"You, sir, and Lieutenant Leclair, get the six gun-crews together at +their stations. When we drift in range, give the Beni Harb a few trays +of blanks. That may scatter them without any further trouble. We want +peace, but if it's got to be war, very well. If they show real fight, +rake them hard!" + +"They will show fight, surely enough, mon capitaine," put in Leclair, +as he and the major made their way to the oddly tiptilted door leading +back into the main corridor. "I know these folk. No blank cartridges +will scatter that breed. Even the Turks are afraid of them. They have +a proverb: 'Feed the Beni Harb, and they will fire at Allah!' That +says it all. + +"Mohammed laid a special curse on them. I imagine your orderly, Rrisa, +will have something to say when he learns that we have Beni Harb as +opponents. Now, sir, we shall make all haste to get the machine-guns +into action!" + +Major Bohannan laughed with more enjoyment than he had shown since +_Nissr_ had left America. They both saluted and withdrew. When the +door was closed again, a little silence fell in the pilot-house, the +floor of which had now assumed an angle of nearly thirty degrees. +The droning of the helicopters, the drift of the sickly white smoke +that--rising from _Nissr's_ stern--wafted down-wind with her, the +drunken angle of her position all gave evidence of the serious +position in which the Flying Legion now found itself. Suddenly the +Master spoke. His dismissal of Bohannan and Leclair had given him the +opportunity he wanted. + +"Captain Alden," said he, bruskly, with the unwillingness of +a determined man forced to reverse a fixed decision. "I have +reconsidered my dictum regarding you." + +"Indeed, sir?" asked the woman, from where she stood leaning against +the sill of the slanted window. "You mean, sir, I am to stay with the +Legion, till the end?" + +"Yes. Your service in having shot down the stowaway renders it +imperative that I show you some human recognition. You gained +admission to this force by deception, and you broke parole and escaped +from the stateroom where I had imprisoned you. But, as you have +explained to me, you heard the explosion, you heard the outcry of +pursuit, and you acted for my welfare. + +"I can weigh relative values. I grant your request. The score is wiped +clean. You shall remain, on one condition." + +"And what is that, sir?" asked "Captain Alden," with a voice of +infinite relief. + +"That you still maintain the masculine disguise. The presence of a +woman, as such, in this Legion, would be a disturbing factor. You +accept my terms?" + +"Certainly! May I ask one other favor?" + +"What favor?" + +"Spare Kloof and Lombardo!" + +"Impossible!" + +"I know their guilt, sir. Through their carelessness in not having +discovered the stowaway and in having let him escape, the Legion came +near sudden death. I know _Nissr_ is a wreck, because of them. Still, +we need men, and those two are good fighters. Above all, we need +Lombardo, the doctor I ask you to spare them at least their lives!" + +"That is the woman's heart in you speaking, now," the chief answered, +coldly. His eyes were far ahead, where the war-party was beginning +to debouch on the white sands along the shore--full three hundred +fighting-men, or more, well armed, as the tiny sparkles of sunlight +flicking from weapons proved. As _Nissr_ drew in to land, the Beni +Harb grew visible to the naked eye, like a swarm of ants on the desert +rim. + +"The woman's heart," repeated the Master. "That is your only fault and +weakness, that you are a woman and that you forgive." + +"You grant my request?" + +"No, Captain. Nor can I even discuss it. Those two men have cut +themselves off from the Legion and signed their own death warrant. +The sentence I have decided on, must stand. Do not speak of this to me +again, madam! Now, kindly withdraw." + +"Yes, sir!" And Alden, saluting, approached the door. + +"One moment! Send Leclair back to me. Inform Ferrara that he is to +command the second gun-crew." + +"Yes, sir!" And the woman was gone. + +Leclair appeared, some moments later. He suspected nothing of the +subterfuge whereby the Master had obtained a few minutes' conversation +alone with "Captain Alden." + +"You sent for me, sir?" asked the Frenchman. + +"I did. I have some questions to ask you. Others can handle the guns, +but you have special knowledge of great importance to me. And first, +as an expert ace, what are our chances of making that shore, sir, now +probably five miles off? In a crisis, I always want to ask an expert's +opinion." + +Leclair peered from under knit brows at the altimeter needle and the +inclinometer. He leaned from the pilot-house window and looked down at +the waves, now hardly a hundred feet below, their foaming hiss quite +audible. From those waves, red light reflected as the sun sank, +illuminated the Frenchman's lean, brown features and flung up wavering +patches of illumination against the pilot-house ceiling of burnished +metal, through the tilted windows that sheerly overhung the water. + +"_Eh bien_--" murmured Leclair, noncommittally. + +"Well, can we make it, sir?" + +The ace inspected the vacuum-gauges, the helicopter tachometers, and +shrugged his shoulders. + +"'_Fais tout, toi-męme, et Dieu t'aidera_,'" he quoted the cynical old +French proverb. "If nothing gives way, there is a chance." + +"If we settle into the sea, do you think that with our damaged floats +we can drive ashore without breaking up?" + +"I do not, my Captain. There is a heavy sea running, and the surf is +bad on the beach. This Rio de Oro coast is cruel. Have you our exact +position?" + +"Almost exactly on the Tropic of Cancer, half-way between Cape Bojador +to north of us, and Cape Blanco, to south." + +"Yes, I understand. That brings us to the Tarmanant region of the +Sahara. Fate could not have chosen worse for us. But, _c'est la +guerre_. All I regret, however, is that in a crippled condition we +have to face a war-party of the Beni Harb. Were we intact, and a match +for them, how gladly would I welcome battle with that scum of Islam! +Ah, the _canaille_!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +SHIPWRECK AND WAR + +"You call them dogs, eh?" asked the chief. "And why?" + +"What else are such apostate fanatics? People who live by robbery and +plunder--people who, if they find no gold in your money-belt, will rip +your stomach open to see if you've swallowed it! People who boast +of being _harami_ (highwaymen), and who respect the _jallah_ +(slave-driver)! + +"People who practice the barbaric _thar_, or blood-feud! People who +torture their victims by cutting off the ends of their fingers before +beheading or crucifying them! People who glory in murdering the +'idolators of Feringistan,' as they call us white men! Let me advise +you now, my Captain, when dealing with these people or fighting them, +never use your last shot on them. Always keep a mercy-bullet in your +gun!" + +"A mercy-bullet?" + +"For yourself!" + +The Master pondered a moment or two, as _Nissr_ drifted on toward the +now densely massed Arabs on the beach, then he said: + +"You seem to know these folk well." + +"Only too well!" + +The Master's next words were in the language of the desert: + +"_Hadratak tet kal'm Arabi?_" (You speak Arabic?) + +"_Na'am et kal'm!_" affirmed the lieutenant, smiling. And in the same +tongue he continued, with fluent ease: "Indeed I do, _Effendi_. Yes, +yes, I learned it in Algiers and all the way south as far as the +headwaters of the Niger. + +"Five years I spent among the Arabs, doing air-work, surveying the +Sahara, locating oases, mapping what until then were absolutely +unknown stretches of territory. I did a bit of bombing, too, in the +campaign against Sheik Abd el Rahman, in 1913." + +"Yes, so I have heard. You almost lost your life, that time?" + +"Only by the thickness of a _semmah_ seed did I preserve it," answered +the Frenchman. "My mechanician, Lebon, and I--we fell among them on +account of engine trouble, near the oasis of Adrar, not far from here. +We had no machine-gun--nothing but revolvers. We stood them off for +seven hours, before they rushed us. They captured us only because our +last cartridges were gone." + +"You did not save the mercy-bullet that time, eh?" + +"I did not, _Effendi._ I did not know them then as I do now. They +knocked us both senseless, and then began hacking our machine to +pieces with their huge _balas_ (yataghans). They thought our plane was +some gigantic bird. + +"Superstition festers in their very bones! The giant bird, they +believed, would ruin their date crops; and, besides, they thirsted for +the blood of the Franks. As a matter of fact, my Captain, these people +do sometimes drink a little of the blood of a slaughtered enemy." + +"Impossible!" + +"True, I tell you! They destroyed our plane with fire and sword, +reviled us as pigs and brothers of pigs, and named poor Lebon 'kalb +ibn kalb,' or 'dog and son of a dog.' Then they separated into two +bands. One band departed toward Wady Tawarik, taking Lebon. They +informed me that on the morrow they would crucify him on a cross of +palm-wood, head downward." + +"And they executed Lebon?" + +Leclair shrugged his shoulders. + +"I suppose so," he answered with great bitterness. "I have never +seen or heard of him since. As for me, they reserved me for some +festivities at Makam Jibrail. During the next night, a column of +Spanish troops from Rio de Oro rushed their camp, killed sixty or +seventy of the brown demons, and rescued me. Since then I have lusted +revenge on the Beni Harb!" + +"No wonder," put in the chief, once more looking at the beach, where +now the war-party was plainly visible to the naked eye in some detail. +The waving of their arms could be distinguished; and plainly glittered +the blood-crimson sunset light on rifle-barrels, swords, and javelins. +The Master loosened his revolver in its holster. "About twenty minutes +from now, at this rate," he added, "some of the Beni Harb will have +reason to remember you." + +"Yes, and may Jehannum take them all!" exclaimed the Frenchman, +passionately. His eyes glowered with hate as he peered across the +narrowing strip of waves and surf. "Jehannum, where every time their +skins are burned off, as the Koran says, new ones will grow to be +burned off again! Where 'they shall have garments of fire fitted upon +them and boiling water poured upon their heads, and they shall be +beaten with maces of iron--" + +"And their tormentors shall say unto them: 'Taste ye the pain of +burning!'" the Master concluded the familiar quotation with a +smile. "Waste no time in wishing the Beni Harb future pain, my dear +Lieutenant. Jehannum may indeed reserve the fruit of the tree Al +Zakkum, for these dogs, but our work is to give them a foretaste of +it, today. Kismet seems to have willed it that you and the Beni Harb +shall meet again. Is it not a fortunate circumstance, for you?" + +"Fortunate, yes," the Frenchman answered, his eyes glowing as they +estimated the strength of the war-party, now densely massed along the +shining sands, "But, thank God, there are no women in this party! That +would mean that one of us would have to kill a woman--for God help +a woman of Feringistan caught by these _jinnee_, these devils of the +waste!" + +Silence again. Both men studied the Beni Harb. The Frenchman judged, +reverting to his native tongue: "Certainly more than three hundred +of these 'abusers of the salt,' my Captain. And we are hardly thirty. +Even if we reach land, we must soon sink to earth. Without food, +water, anything--_ce n'est pas gai, hein?_" + +"No, it is not gay," the chief answered. "But with machine-guns--" + +"Machine-guns cannot fight against the African sun, against famine, +thirst, delirium, madness. Well--'blessed be certainty,' as the Arabs +say." + +"You mean death?" + +"Yes, I mean death. We always have that in our grasp, at any +rate--after having taken full toll of these devils. I should not +mind, so much, defeat at the hands of the nobler breed of the Arabian +Peninsula. There, in the _Ruba el Khali_[1] itself, I know a chivalric +race dwells that any soldier might be proud to fight or to rule over. +But these Shiah heretic swine--ah, see now, they are taking cover +already? They will not stand and fight, like men!" + +[Footnote 1: _Ruba el Khali_ (The Empty Abodes), a name applied by +the Arabs to the Peninsula, especially the vast inner region never +penetrated by any white man.] + +Scornfully he flung a hand at the Beni Harb. The fringes of the +tribe were trickling up the sands, backward, away, toward the line +of purple-hazed dunes that lined the coast. More and more of the +war-party followed. Gradually all passed up the wady, over the dunes +and vanished. + +"They are going to ambush us, my Captain," said Leclair. "'In rice, +strength; in the Beni Harb, manhood!'" + +Nearer the land, ever sagging down but still afloat--though now at +times some of the heavier surges broke in foam over the rail of the +lower gallery--the Eagle of the Sky drifted on, on. Hardly a half-mile +now lay between air-liner and shore. Suddenly the Master began to +speak: + +"Listen, Lieutenant! Events are at a crisis, now. I will speak very +plainly. You know the Arabs, good and bad. You know Islam, and all +that the Mohammedan world is. You know there are more than 230,000,000 +people of this faith, scattered from Canton to Sierra Leone, and +from Cape Town to Tobolsk, all over Turkey, Africa, and Arabia--an +enormous, fanatic, fighting race! Probably, if trained, the finest +fighting-men in the world, for they fear neither pain nor' death. They +welcome both, if their hearts are enlisted!" + +"Yes, yes, I know! Their Hell yawns for cowards; their Paradise opens +to receive the brave! Death is as a bride to the Moslem!" + +"Fanatics all, Lieutenant! Only a few white men have ever reached +Mecca and returned. Bartema, Wild, and Joseph Pitt succeeded, and so +did Hurgronje, Courtelmont, Burton, and Burckhardt--though, the Arabs +admit only the two last. + +"But how many hundreds have been beheaded or crucified? No pilgrimage +ever takes place without a few such victims. A race of this type is a +potential world-power of incalculable magnitude. Men who will die for +Islam and for their master without a quiver--" + +"My Captain! What do you mean?" + +The lieutenant's eyes had begun to fill with flame. His hand tightened +to a fist. + +"_Mon Dieu_, what do you mean? Can it be possible you dream of ruling +the races of Islam?" + +Something whined overhead, from the beach now only about a +quarter-mile distant. Then a shot from behind the dunes cracked out +across the crumbling, hissing surf. + +"Ah," laughed Leclair, "the ball has opened, eh? Well this is now no +time for talk, for empty words. I think I understand you, my Captain; +and to the death I stand at your right hand!" + +Their palms met and clasped, a moment, in the firm grip of a compact +between two strong men, unafraid. Then each drew his pistol, crouching +there at the windows of the pilot-house. + +"Hear how that bullet sang?" questioned the Frenchman. "It was +notched--a notched slug, you understand. That is a familiar trick with +these dog-people of the Beni Harb. Sometimes, if they have poison, +they dip the notched slug in that too. And, ah, what a wound one +makes! Dum-dums are a joke beside such!" + +Another shot sounded. Many cracked out along the dune. All up and down +the crest of the tawny sand-hills, red under the sun now close to the +horizon, the fusillade ran and rippled. On _Nissr_, metal plates rang +with the impact of the slugs, or glass crashed. The gigantic Eagle of +the Sky, helpless, received this riddling volley as she sagged ashore, +now almost in the grip of the famished surf. + +"Yes, the ball is opening!" repeated Leclair, with an eager laugh. His +finger itched on the trigger of his weapon; but no target was visible. +Why waste ammunition on empty sand-dunes? + +"Let it open!" returned the chief. "We'll not refuse battle, no, by +Allah! Our first encounter with Islam shall not be a surrender! Even +if we could survive that, it would be fatal to this vast plan of +mine--of ours, Lieutenant. No, we will stand and fight--even till +'certainty,' if Allah wills it so!" + +A sudden burst of machine-gun fire, from the upper starboard gallery, +crashed out into the sultry, quivering air. The kick and recoil of the +powerful Lewis sent a fine, swift shudder through the fabric of the +wounded Eagle. + +"There goes a tray of blanks," said the Master. "Perhaps that will +rout them out, eh? Once we can get them on the run--" + +Leclair laughed scornfully. + +"Those dog-sons will not run from blanks, no, nor from shotted +charges!" he declared. "Pariahs in faith, despoilers of the Haram--the +sacred inner temple--still this breed of _Rafaz_ (heretic) is bold. +Ah, 'these dogs bare their teeth to fight more willingly than to eat.' +It will come to hot work soon, I think!" + +Keenly he scanned the dunes, eager for sight of a white _tarboosh_, +or headgear, at which to take a pot-shot. Nothing was visible but +sand--though here, there, a gleam of steel showed where the Arabs had +nested themselves down in the natural rampart with their long-barreled +rifles cuddled through carefully scooped rifts in the sand. + +Again the machine-gun chattered. Another joined it, but no dust-spurts +leaped from the dune, where now a continual play of fire was leaping +out. The Beni Harb, keenly intelligent, sensed either that they +were being fired at with blanks, or that the marksmanship aboard the +air-liner was execrable. A confused chorus of cries and jeers drifted +down from the sand-hills; and all at once a tall, gaunt figure in a +brown and white striped burnous, with the hood drawn up over the head, +leaped to sight. + +This figure brandished a tremendously long rifle in his left hand. His +right was thrust up, with four fingers extended--the sign of wishing +blindness to enemies. A splendid mark this Arab made. The Master drew +a fine bead on him and fired. + +Both he and Leclair laughed, as the Arab pitched forward in the sand. +Unseen hands dragged the warrior back, away, out of sight. A slug +crashed through the upper pane of the port window, flattened itself +against the main corridor door and dropped to the sofa-locker. + +The Master reached for the phone and switched in the connection with +the upper starboard gallery. + +"Major Bohannan!" he ordered. "No more blanks! The real thing, +now--but hold your fire till we drift over the dune!" + +"Drift over!" echoed Leclair. "But, _monsieur_, we'll never even make +the beach!" + +"So?" asked the chief. He switched to the engine-room. + +"Frazier! Lift her a little, now! Rack everything--strain +everything--break everything, if you must, but lift her!" + +"Yes, sir!" came the engineer's voice. "I'll scrap the engines, sir, +but I'll do that!" + +Almost as if a mocking echo of the command and the promise, a dull +concussion shuddered through _Nissr_. The drone of the helicopters +sank to a sullen murmur; and down below, waves began combing angrily +over the gallery. + +"Ah, _nom de Dieu_!" cried Leclair, in sudden rage at seeing his +chance all gone to pot, of coming to grips with the hated Beni Harb. +From the penetralia of the air-liner, confused shouts burst forth. The +upper galleries grew vocal with execrations. + +Not one was of fear; all voiced disappointment, the passion of baffled +fury. Angrily a boiler-shop clatter of machine-guns vomited useless +frenzy. + +Wearily, like a stricken bird that has been forced too long to wing +its broken way, the Eagle of the Sky--still two hundred yards from +shore--lagged down into the high-running surf. Down, in a murderous +hail of fire she sank, into the waves that beat on the stark, +sun-baked Sahara shore. + +And from hundreds of barbarous throats arose the killing-cry to +Allah--the battle-cry of Beni Harb, the murder-lusting Sons of War. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +BELEAGUERED + +"La Illaha illa Allah! M'hámed rasul Allah!" Raw, ragged, exultant, a +scream of passion, joy, and hate, it rose like the voice of the desert +itself, vibrant with wild fanaticism, pitiless and wild. + +The wolflike, high-pitched howl of the Arab outcasts--the robber-tribe +which all Islam believed guilty of having pillaged the Haram at Mecca +and which had for that crime been driven to the farthest westward +confines of Mohammedanism--this war-howl tore its defiance through the +wash and reflux of the surf. + +The pattering hail of slugs continued to zoon from the sand-hills, +bombarding the vast-spread wings and immense fuselage of Nissr. For +the most part, that bombardment was useless to the Beni Harb. A good +many holes, opened up in the planes, and some broken glass, were about +the Arabs' only reward. + +None of the bullets could penetrate the metal-work, unless making a +direct hit. Many glanced, spun ricochetting into the sea, and with a +venomous buzzing like huge, angry hornets, lost themselves in quick, +white spurts of foam. + +But one shot at least went home. Sheltered though the Legion was, +either inside the fuselage or in vantage-points at the gun-stations, +one incautious exposure timed itself to meet a notched slug. And a cry +of mortal agony rose for a moment on the heat-shimmering air--a cry +echoed with derision by fifteen score barbarians behind their natural +rampart. + +There was now no more shooting from the liner. What was there to shoot +at, but sand? The Arabs, warned by the death of the gaunt fellow in +the burnous, had doffed their headgear. Their brown heads, peeping +intermittently from the wady and the dunes, were evasive as a mirage. + +The Master laughed bitterly. + +"A devil of a place!" he exclaimed, his blood up for a fight, but all +circumstances baffling him. A very different man, this, from the calm, +impersonal victim of ennui at _Niss'rosh_, or even from the unmoved +individual when the liner had first swooped away from New York. His +eye was sparkling now, his face was pale and drawn with anger; and the +blood-soaked cotton and collodion gave a vivid touch of color to +the ensemble. That the Master had emotions, after all, was evident. +Obvious, too, was the fact these emotions were now fully aroused. +"What a devil of a place! No way to get at those dog-sons, and they +can lie there and wait for _Nissr_ to break up!" + +"Yes, my Captain, or else starve us where we lie!" the lieutenant put +in. "Or wait for thirst and fever to do the work. Then--rich plunder +for the sons of theft!" + +"Ah, Leclair, but we're not going to stay here, for any such +contingency!" exclaimed the chief, and turned toward the door. "Come, +_en avant_! Forward, Leclair!" + +"My Captain! You cannot charge an entrenched enemy like that, by +swimming a heavy surf, with nothing but revolvers in hand!" + +"Can't, eh? Why not?" + +"The rules of war--" + +"To Hell with the rules of war!" shouted the Master, for the first +time in years breaking into profanity. "Are you with me, or are you--" + +"Sir, do not say that word!" cried the Frenchman, reddening ominously. +"Not even from you can I accept it!" + +The Master laughed again, and strode out into the main corridor, with +Leclair close behind him. + +"Men!" he called, his voice blaring a trumpet-call to action. +"Volunteers for a shore-party to clean out that kennel of dogs!" + +None held back. All came crowding into the spacious corridor, its +floor now laterally level but sloping toward the stern, as _Nissr's_ +damaged aft-floats had filled and sunk. + +"Revolvers and lethal pistols!" he ordered. "And knives in belts! Come +on!" + +Up the ladder they swarmed to the take-off gallery. Their feet rang +and clattered on the metal rounds. Other than that, a, strange silence +filled the giant air-liner. The engines now lay dead. _Nissr_ was +motionless, save for the pitch and swing of the surf that tossed her; +but forward she could no longer go. + +As the men came up to the top gallery, the hands of the setting sun +reached out and seized them with red ardor. The radiance was half +blinding, from that sun and from light reflected by the heavily +running waves, all white-caps to shore. On both aileron-tips, the +machine-guns were spitting intermittently, worked by crews under the +major and Ferrara, the Italian ace. + +"Cease firing!" ordered the Master. "Simonds, you and Prisrend deal +out the lethal guns. Look alive, now!" + +Sheltering themselves from the patter of slugs behind stanchions and +bulwarks, the Legionaries waited. The sea wind struck them with hot +intensity; the sun, now almost down, flung its river of blood from +ship to horizon, all dancing in a shimmer of heat. + +By the way _Nissr_ was thumping her floats on the bottom, she seemed +about to break up. But, undismayed, the Legionaries armed themselves, +girt on their war-gear and, cool-disciplined under fire, waited the +order to leap into the sea. + +Not even the sight of a still body in the starboard gallery--a body +from under which a snaky red line was crawling, zigzagging with each +pitch of the liner--gave them any pause. This crew was well blooded, +ready for grim work of give-and-take. + +"A task for me, sir!" exclaimed "Captain Alden," pointing at the body. +The Master refused. + +"No time for nursing, now!" he negatived the plea. "Unless you choose +to remain behind?" + +"Never, sir!" + +"Can you swim with one arm?" + +"With both tied!" + +"Very well! All ready, men! Overboard, to the beach! There, dig in +for further orders. No individual action! No charge, without command! +Overboard--come on--who follows me?" + +He vaulted the rail, plunged in a white smother, surged up and struck +out for shore. Rrisa was not half a second behind him. Then came +all the others (save only that still figure on the buffed metals), a +deluge of leaping, diving men. + +The surf suddenly became full of heads and shoulders, vigorous arms, +fighting beachward. Strong swimmers every one, the Legion battled its +way ashore, out from under _Nissr's_ vast-spreading bulk, out from +under her forward floats. Not one Legionary but thrilled with the +killing-lust, the eager spur of vengeance for Kloof, first victim of +the Beni Harb's attack. + +Along the dune, perhaps five hundred yards back of the beach, very +many heads now appeared. The Arabs well knew themselves safe from +attack, so long as these hated white swine of _Ajam_[1] were in the +breakers. Golden opportunity to pick them off, at ease! + +[Footnote 1: Arabs divide the world into two categories; themselves, +and _Ajam_, or all non-Arabs.] + +A long, ragged line of desert men appeared, in burnouses and +_benishes_, or loose floating garments, and all heavily armed. The +last bleeding rays of the sunset flickered on the silver-mounted +rifles as they spat fire into the heat-quivering air. + +All about the swimmers, waterspouts jetted up. Two men grunted, +flailed wild arms and sank, with the water about them tinged red as +the sunset. Another sank face downward, a moment, then with only one +arm, continued to ply for land, leaving a crimson trail behind. + +None of the untouched Legionaries took any heed of this, or stopped +their furious swimming to see what damage had been done or to offer +help. Life was at stake. Every second in the breakers was big with +death. This was stern work, to be put through with speed. But the +faces of the swimming men grew hard to look upon. + +The Master and Leclair were first to touch foot to the shelving +bottom, all churned up by the long cavalry-charges of the sea-horses, +and to drag themselves out of the smother. Rrisa and Bohannan +came next, then Enemark, and then the others--all save Beziers and +Daimamoto, French ace and Japanese surgeon, whose work was forever +at an end. Enemark, engineer and scientist, shot through the left +shoulder, was dragged ashore, strangling, by eager hands. + +"Down! Down!" shouted the Master. "Dig in!" + +Right well he knew the futility, the suicidal folly of trying to +charge some three hundred entrenched men with a handful of panting, +exhausted soldiers armed only with revolvers. + +"Take cover!" his cry rang along the beach. They obeyed. Under a +galling fire that flung stinging sand into their faces and that took +toll of two more Legionaries, wounded, the expedition dug for its very +life. + +The best of strategy! The only strategy, the Master knew, as--panting +a little, with thick, black hair glued by sea-water to his head--he +flattened himself into a little depression in the sand, where the +first ripple of the dunes began. + +Hot was the sand, and dry. Withered camel-grass grew in dejected tufts +here, there, interspersed with a few straggles of half a. A jackal's +skull, bleached, lay close to the Master's right hand. Its polish +attested the care of others of its kind, of hyenas, and of vultures. +Just so would a human skull appear, in no long time, if left to +nature's tender ministrations. Out of an eyehole of the skull a dusty +gray scorpion half crawled, then retreated, tail over back, venomous, +deadly. + +Death lurked not alone in sea and in the rifles of the inhabitants of +this harsh land, but even in the crawling things underfoot. + +The Master paid no heed to shriveled grass, to skull, or scorpion. +All his thoughts were bent on the overcoming of that band of Islamic +outcasts now persistently pot-shotting away at the strange flying +men from unknown lands "that faced not Mecca nor kept Ramadan"--men +already hidden in swiftly scooped depressions, from which the sand +still kept flying up. + +"Steady, men!" the Master called. "Get your wind! Ready with the +lethal guns! Each gun, one capsule. Then we'll charge them! And--no +quarter!" + +Again, silence from the Legion. The fire from the dunes slackened. +These tactics seemed to have disconcerted the Beni Harb. They had +expected a wild, only half-organized rush up the sands, easily to be +wiped out by a volley or two from the terribly accurate, long-barreled +rifles. But this restraint, this business-like entrenching reminded +them only too forcibly of encounters with other men of the +Franks--the white-clad Spanish infantry from Rio de Oro, the dreaded +_piou-pious_, zouaves, and _Légion Etrangčre_ of the French. + +Firing ceased, from the Beni Harb. Silence settled on both sides. From +the sea, the noise of waves breaking along the lower works of _Nissr_ +mingled with the hiss and refluent slither of the tumbling surf on the +gleaming beach. For a while peace seemed to have descended. + +A purple shade settled over the desert. The sun was nearly gone, +now, and dusk would not be long in closing its chalice down over the +light-wearied world. Leclair, entrenched beside the Master, whispered: + +"They do not understand, these dog-brothers--may Allah make their +faces cold!" He grinned, frankly, with sparkling eyes and white teeth. +"Already we have their beards in our hands!" + +The Master's only answer was to draw from his pocket an extra lethal +gun, hand it over and, in a whisper, hastily instruct the Frenchman +how to use it. Then he cried, loudly: + +"Ready, men! Fire!" + +All along the line, the faint, sighing hiss of the strange weapons +sounded. Over the top of the dune little, almost inaudible explosions +began taking place as--_plop! plop! plop!_--the capsules burst. Not +now could their pale virescence be seen; but the Master smiled again, +at realization that already the lethal gas was settling down upon the +horde of Shiah outcasts. + +To Leclair he whispered in Arabic an ancient saying of the desert +folk: "'Allah hath given skill to three things, the hands of the +Chinese, the brains of the Franks, the tongues of the Arabs!'" He +added: "When the gas strikes them, they would think the Frankish brain +more wonderful than ever--if they could think at all!" + +He slid his hand into the breast of his jacket, pulled a little cord +and drew out a silver whistle, the very same that he had used at +Gallipoli. As he slid it to his lips, they tautened. A flood of +memories surged over him. His fighting-blood was up, like that of +all the other Legionaries in that hasty trench-line along the white +sand-drifts. + +A moment's silence followed. Outwardly, all was peace. No sound but +the waves broke the African stillness. A little sand-grouse, known as +_kata_ by the Arabs, came whirring by. Far aloft, a falcon wheeled, +keen-eyed for prey. Once more the deadly scorpion peeped from the +skull, an ugly, sullen, envenomed thing. + +The Master held up the silver whistle, glinting in the last sun-glow. +They saw it, and understood. All hearts thrilled, tightening with +the familiar sense of discipline. Fists gripped revolver-butts; feet +shuffled into the sand, getting a hold for the quick, forward leap. + +Keenly trilled the whistle. A shout broke from some twenty-five +throats. The men leaped up, forward, slipping, staggering in the fine +sand, among the bunches of dried grass. But forward they drove, and +broke into a ragged, sliding charge up the breast of the dunes. + +"Hold your fire, men! Hold it--then give 'em Hell!" the Master +shouted. He was in the first wave of the assault. Close by came +Rrisa, his brown face contracted with fanatic hate of the Beni Harb, +despoilers of the Haram sanctuary. + +There, too, was "Captain Alden," grim with masked face. There was +Bohannan, Leclair--and pistol-barrels flickered in the evening glow, +and half the men gripped knives in their left hands, as well. For this +was to be a killing without quarter, to the very end. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +A MISSION OF DREAD + +Panting, with a slither of dry sand under their laboring feet, the +Legionaries charged. At any second, a raking volley might burst from +the dunes. The lethal pellets--so few in this vast space--might not +have taken effect. Not one heart there but was steeling itself against +ambush and a shriveling fire. + +Up they stormed. The Master's voice cried, once more: "Give 'em Hell!" + +He was the first man to top the dune, close to the wady's edge. There +he checked himself, revolver in mid-air, eyes wide with astonishment. +This way and that he peered, squinting with eyes that did not +understand. + +"_Nom de Dieu!_" ejaculated Leclair, at his side. + +"_Wallah_!" shouted Rrisa, furiously. "Oh, may Allah smite their +faces!" + +Each man, as he leaped to the rampart top, stood transfixed with +astonishment. Most of them cried out in their native tongues. + +Their amazement was well-grounded. Not an Arab was to be seen. Of all +those Beni Harb, none remained--not even the one shot by the Master. +The sand on the dune was cupped with innumerable prints of feet in +rude _babooshes_ (native shoes), and empty cartridges lay all about. +But not one of the Ahl Bayt, or People of the Black Tents, was +visible. + +"Sure, now, can you beat that?" shouted Bohannan, exultantly, and +waved his service cap. "Licked at the start! They quit cold!" + +Sheffield, at his side, dropped to the sand, his heart drilled by a +jagged slug. The explosion of that shot crackled in from another line +of dunes, off to eastward--a brown, burnt ridge, parched by the tropic +sun of ages. + +Sweating with the heat and the exertion of the charge, amazed at +having found--in place of windrows of sleeping men--an enemy still +distant and still as formidable as ever, the Legionaries for a moment +remained without thought or tactics. + +Rrisa, livid with fury and baffled hate, flung up wild arms and began +screaming the most extravagant insults at the still invisible nomads, +whose fire was now beginning again all along their line. + +"O rejected ones, and sons of the rejected!" the Arab howled. "O hogs +and brothers of hogs!" He fell to gnawing his own hand, as Arabs will +in an excess of passion. Once more he screamed: "O Allah, deny not +their skin and bones to the eternal flame! O owls, oxen, beggars, +cut-off ones! Oh, give them the burning oil, Allah! The cold faces! +Oh, wither their hands! Make them _kusah_! (beardless). Oh, these +swine with black livers, gray eyes, beards of red. Vilest that ever +hammered tent-pegs, goats of El Akhfash! O Beni Harb![1]" + +[Footnote 1: Beni Harb, or Sons of Battle, by a change in the +aspiration of the "H," becomes "Sons of Flight, or Cowardice."] + +The Master gripped his furious orderly, and pushed him back, down the +slope. + +"No more of that, Rrisa!" he commanded, fiercely. "These be old +woman's ways, these screamings! Silence, _Bismillah_!" + +He hailed the others. + +"They score, the first round! Their game is to retreat, if they're +suspicious of any ruse or any attack from us. They're not going +to stand and fight. We can't get near enough to them to throw the +remaining lethal capsules over. And we can't chase them into the +desert. Their plan is to hold us here, and pick us off one by +one--wipe us out, without losing a man! + +"Dig in again! That's our only game now. We're facing a situation +that's going to tax us to the utmost, but there's only one thing to +do--dig in!" + +Life itself lay in digging, death in exposure to the fire of +those maddeningly elusive, unseen Bedouins. Like so many dogs the +Legionaries once more fell to excavating, with their knives and their +bare hands, the sun-baked sand that slithered back again into their +shallow trench almost as fast as they could throw it out. + +A ragged fire from the Beni Harb lent speed to their efforts. Dead men +and wounded could now have no attention. Life itself was all at stake. + +In their rude trench they lay at last, sweating, panting, covered +with sand and dust, with thirst beginning to take hold on them, and +increasing swarms of flies--tiny, vicious, black things, all sting and +poison--beginning to hum about them. On watch they rested there, while +dull umbers of nightfall glowered through the framework of _Nissr_, +tossing in the surf. Without much plan, wrecked, confronted by what +seemed perils unsurmountable, the Flying Legion waited for the coming +of dark to respite them from sniping. + +The Master, half-way along the line with Leclair, Rrisa, the major and +"Captain Alden," mentally took stock of losses thus far sustained. The +wounded were: Alden, Bohannan (burned), Enemark and himself. The dead: +Kloof, Sheffield, Beziers, Travers, Gorlitz, Auchincloss, Daimamoto. + +Twenty-four living remained, including Leclair. The mortality, in +about eighteen hours, had been twenty percent. At this rate the Master +understood the Flying Legion was slated for very speedy destruction. + +"It's touch-and-go now," he pondered. "We've got to annihilate these +infernal Bedouins, repair the liner and get ahead, or--but there's no +'or' in this! None, at all!" + +As dark settled down over the Sahara, the leprous patches of white, +saline earth took on a ghostly pallor. The light of the southern stars +began to glow with soft radiance. A gigantic emptiness, a rolling +vacancy of sea and earth--brine-waves to rear of the Legion, +sand-waves ahead--shrank the party to seeming insignificance. + +A soft, purple tapestry of night unrolled across the desert; the wind +died, and the suffocating breath of overheated sands began to emanate +from the baked earth. And ever more and more pestiferously the +infernal torment of the flies increased. + +Inflamed with chagrin, rage, and grief for the lost comrades, the +Legionaries lay in waiting. No conversation ran along the line. +Silence held them--and their own thoughts. Wounds had been dressed as +well as they might be. Nothing remained but to await the Master's next +command. + +"Captain Alden's" suggestion that Kloof, still lying aboard in the +liner, should be seen to, met a rebuff from the Master. Living or +dead, one man could not now endanger the lives of any others. And that +danger still lay in any exposure was proved by the intermittent firing +from the Arab lines. + +The Beni Harb were obviously determined to hold back any possibility +of a charge, or any return to the protection of the giant flying-ship. +Bullets whimpered overhead, spudded into the sand, or pinged against +metal on the liner. Parthian fighters though these Beni Harb were, +they surely were well stocked with munitions and they meant stern +business. + +"And stern business is what they shall have, once the dark is +complete," the Master pondered. "It is annihilation for them or for +us. There can be no compromise, nor any terms but slaughter!" + +One circumstance was favorable--the falling of the wind. Had it risen, +kicking up a harsher surf, _Nissr_ must have begun to break. But as +the cupped hand of night, closing over the earth, had also shut away +the wind, the air-liner was now resting more easily. Surf still +foamed about her floats and lower gallery--surf all spangled with the +phosphorescence that the Arabs call "jewels of the deep"--but unless +some sudden squall should fling itself against the coast, every +probability favored the liner taking no further damage. + +In silence, save for the occasional easing of positions along the +trench, the Legionaries waited. Strange dim colors appeared along +the desert horizons, half visible in the gloom--funeral palls of dim +purple, with pale, ghostly reflections almost to mid-heaven. + +Some of the men had tobacco and matches that had escaped being wet; +and cigarettes were rolled, passed along, lighted behind protections +that would mask the match-gleam from the enemy. The comforting aroma +of smoke drifted out on the desert heat. As for the Master, from time +to time he slipped a khat leaf into his mouth, and remained gravely +pondering. + +At length his voice sounded along the trench. + +"Men of the Flying Legion," said he, "this situation is grave. We +can't escape on foot, north or south. We are without provisions or +water. The nearest white settlement is Rio de Oro, about a hundred +miles to southward; and even if we could reach that, harassed by the +Beni Harb, we might all be executed there, as pirates. We must go +forward or die right here on this beach. + +"In any kind of a straight fight, we are hopelessly out-classed. There +are about three hundred men against twenty-four of us, some of whom +are wounded. Even if we took life for life, the Bedouins would lose +less than ten percent, and we'd be wiped out. And we couldn't expect +to take life for life, charging a position like theirs in the +night. It can't be a stand-up battle. It's got to be science against +savagery, or nothing." + +A murmur of approval trickled along the sands. Confidence was +returning. The Legionaries' hearts tautened again with faith in this +strange, this usually silent and emotionless man whose very name was +unknown to almost all of them. + +"Just one other word," the Master continued, his voice calm, unshaken, +quite impersonal. "If science fails, do not allow yourselves to be +captured. The tortures of Hell await any white man taken by these +fanatics. Remember, always keep one mercy-bullet--for yourselves!" + +Another little silence. Then the chief said: + +"I am going to take two men and undertake what seems a preposterous +attack. I need only two. I shall not call for volunteers, because you +would all offer yourselves. You must stay here." + +"In case my plan succeeds, you are to come at my call--three long +hails. If my plan fails, Major Bohannan will command you; and I know +you will all fight to the last breath and to the final drop of blood!" + +"Don't do this thing, sir!" the major protested. "What chance of +success has it? These desert men can see, where a white man is blind. +They can scent danger as a hunting-dog scents the spoor of game. +You're simply throwing your life away, and we need that life!" + +"I will take Lieutenant Leclair, who knows these people," the Master +continued, paying no heed, "and Rrisa, who is of their kin. You +others, all sit tight!" + +A chuckling laugh, out there on the vague sands, seemed to mock him. +It burst into a raw, barking cachinnation, that somehow stirred the +blood with shrinking horror. + +"One of the Sahara Sanitary Corps," remarked Leclair, dryly. "A hyena. +Well may he laugh! Feasting enough for him and his before this dance +is over!" + +A gleam of fire, off to the left where the farther dunes approached +the sea, suddenly began to show. All eyes turned toward it. The little +fire soon grew into a leaping flame, its base hidden by sand-mounds. + +No Arabs were visible there, but they had surely lighted it, using +driftwood from the beach. Up into the purple-velvet night whirled +sparks and fire-tongues; red smoke spiraled on the vagrant desert +breeze. + +"A signal-fire, Master!" whispered Rrisa. "It will be seen in far +oases. If it burn two hours, that will mean an enemy with great +plunder. Others of the Beni Harb will come; there will be gathering of +the tribes. That fire must not burn, _M'almé!_" + +"Nor must the Beni Harb live!" To the major: "Collect a dozen lethal +guns and bring them to me!" + +When the guns were at hand, the Master apportioned them between +Leclair, Rrisa, and himself. With the one apiece they already had, +each man carried five of the guns, in pockets and in belt. The small +remaining stock of lethal pellets were distributed and the weapons +fully loaded. + +"In three minutes, Major," said the Master, "we leave these lines. +Ten minutes after that, open a scattering fire, all along the trench. +Shoot high, so as to be sure we are not hit." + +"Ah, a barrage, sir?" the major exclaimed. + +"Not in the least. My purpose is quite different. Never mind, but +listen to my orders. Keep up that fire sparingly, for five minutes. +Then cease. And keep silent till we return. + +"Remember, I will give three long hails when we start to come back. +Those will warn you not to shoot if you see dim figures in the night. +Either we shall be back in these lines by nine o'clock, or--" + +"Or we will go after you!" came the voice of "Captain Alden," with +a little catch of anxiety not at all masculine. Something in the +femininity of her promise stirred the Master's heart a second, but he +dismissed it. + +"Either we shall return by nine, or never," he said calmly. + +"Let me go, then!" whispered Alden. "Go, in place of you! You are more +needed than I. Without you all these men are lost. Without me--they +would not miss me, sir!" + +"I cannot argue that point with you, Captain. We start at once." He +turned to Rrisa, and in Arabic said: + +"The road we are about to take may lead thee to Paradise. A +sand-adder, a scorpion, or a bullet may be the means. Dost thou stand +firm with me?" + +The Arab stretched out a thin, brown hand to him in the dark. + +"Firm as my faith, Master!" he replied. "Both to help you, and to +destroy the _beni kalb_ (dog-sons), I would pass through Al Araf, into +Eblis! What will be, must be. No man dieth except by permission of +Allah, according to what is written on the scrolls of the angel, Al +Sijil. + +"I go with you, Master, where you go, were it to Jehannum! I swear +that by the rising of the stars, which is a mighty oath. _Tawakkŕl al +Allah!_" (Place reliance on Allah!) + +"By the rising of the stars!" repeated Leclair, also in Arabic. "I too +am with you to the end, _M'almé!_" + +The Master assured himself that his night-glasses with the megaphotic +reflectors were in their case slung over his shoulder. He looked once +more to his weapons, both ordinary and lethal, and likewise murmured: + +"By the rising of the stars!" + +Then said he crisply, while the fire-glow of Leclair's strongly +inhaled cigarette threw a dim light on the tense lines of his wounded +face: + +"Come! Let us go!" + +Leclair buried his cigarette in the warm earth. + +Rrisa caught up a handful of sand and flung it toward the unseen +enemy, in memory of the decisive pebbles thrown by Mohammed at the +Battle of Bedr, so great a victory for him. + +Then he followed the Master and Leclair, with a whispered: + +"_Bismillah wa Allahu akbar_![1]" + +[Footnote 1: In the name of Allah, and Allah is greatest!] + +Together, crawling on their bellies like dusty puff-adders of the +Sahara itself, the three companions in arms--American, French, +Arab--slid out of the shallow trench, and in the gloom were lost to +sight of the beleaguered Flying Legion. + +Their mission of death, death to the Beni Harb or to themselves, had +begun. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +ANGELS OF DEATH + +In utter silence, moving only a foot at a time, the trio of +man-hunters advanced. They spaced themselves out, dragged themselves +forward one at a time, took advantage of every slightest depression, +every wrinkle in the sandy desert-floor, every mummy-like acacia and +withered tamarisk-bush, some sparse growth of which began to mingle +with the halfa-grass as they passed from the coast-dunes to the desert +itself. + +Breathing only through open mouths, for greater stillness, taking care +to crackle no twig nor even slide loose sand, they labored on, under +the pale-hazed starlight. Their goal was vague. Just where they +should come upon the Beni Harb, in that confused jumble of dunes and +_nullahs_ (ravines) they could not tell; nor yet did they know the +exact distance separating the Legion's trenches from the enemy. All +was vague mystery--a mystery ready at any second, at any slightest +alarm, to blaze out death upon them. + +None the less, stout-hearted and firm of purpose, they serpented their +painful way prone on the hot, dusty bosom of the Sahara. Fate for them +and for all the Legion, lay on so slight a thing as the stirring of +a twig, the _tunk_ of a boot against a bleached camel's skull, the +possibility of a sneeze or cough. + +Even the chance scaring-up of a hyena or a vagrant jackal might betray +them. Every breath, every heartbeat was pregnant with contingencies of +life and death. + +Groveling, they slipped forward, dim, moving shadows in a world of +brown obscurity. At any moment, one might lay a hand on a sleeping +puff-adder or a scorpion. But even that had been fore-reckoned. All +three of them had thought of such contingencies and weighed them. +Not one but had determined to suppress any possible outcry, if thus +stricken, and to die in absolute silence. + +What mattered death for one, if two should win to the close range +necessary for discharging the lethal capsules? What mattered it even +for two, if one should succeed? The survivors, or the sole survivor, +would simply take the weapons from the stricken and proceed. + +After what seemed more than an hour, though in fact it was but the ten +minutes agreed on with Bohannan, off behind them toward the coast a +sudden staccato popping of revolvers began to puncture the night. Up +and down the Legionaries' trench it pattered, desultory, aimless. + +The three men engaged in the perilous task of what the Arabs call +_asar_, or enemy-tracking, lay prone, with bullets keening high +overhead. As the Master looked back, he could see the little spurts of +fire from that fusillade. + +The firing came from more to the left than the Master had reckoned, +showing him that he had got a little off his bearings. But now he took +his course again, as he had intended to do from the Legion's fire; and +presently rifle work from the Arabs, too, verified, his direction. + +The Master smiled. Leclair fingered the butt of his revolver. + +Rrisa whispered curses: + +"Ah, dog-sons, may you suffer the extreme cold of El Zamharir! Ah, may +_Rih al Asfar_, the yellow wind (cholera), carry you all away!" + +The racket of aimless firing continued a few minutes, underneath the +mild effulgence of the stars. It ceased, from the Legion's trenches at +the agreed moment; and soon it died down, also from the Arabs'. Quiet +rose again from the desert, broken only by the surf-wash on the +sand, the far, tremulous wail of a jackal, the little dry skitter of +scorpions. + +The three scouts lay quiet for ten minutes after the volleying had +ceased. Silence settled over the plain; but, presently, a low moaning +sound came indistinctly from the east. It lasted only a moment, then +died away; and almost at once, the slight wind that had been blowing +from the sea hushed itself to a strange calm. + +Rrisa gave anxious ear. His face grew tense, but he held his peace. +Neither of the white men paid any heed to the slight phenomenon. To +them it meant nothing. For all their experience with the desert, they +had never happened to hear just that thing. The Arab, however, felt a +stab of profound anxiety. His lips moved in a silent prayer to Allah. + +Once more the Master raised his hand in signal of advance. The three +man-stalkers wormed forward again. They now had their direction, +also their distance, with extreme precision; a simple process of +triangulation, in which the glow of the beach-fire had its share, gave +them the necessary data. + +Undaunted, they approached the camp of the Beni Harb; though every +moment they expected to be challenged, to hear the crack of an +alarm-rifle or a cry to Allah, followed by a deadly blast of slugs. + +But fortune's scale-pan dipped in their direction, and all held still. +The sun-baked desert kept their secret. Onward they crawled, now over +sand, now over cracked mud-flakes of saline deposit where water had +dried at the bottom of a _ghadir_. All was calm as if the spirit of +rest were hovering over the hot, fevered earth, still quivering from +the kiss of its great enemy, the sun. + +"Peace, it is peace until the rising of the morn!" a thought came to +the Master's mind, a line from the chapter Al Kadr, in the Koran. He +smiled to himself. "False peace," he reflected. "The calm before the +storm!" Prophetic thought, though not as he intended it! + +On and on the trio labored, soundlessly. At last the chief stopped, +held up his hand a second, lay still. The others glimpsed him by the +starlight, nested down in a shallow depression of the sand. They crept +close to him. + +"Lieutenant," he whispered, "you bombard the left-hand sector, toward +the fire and the sea. Rrisa, take the right-hand one. The middle is +for me. Fire at will!" + +Out from belts and pockets came the lethal pistols. With +well-estimated elevation, the attackers sighted, each covering his +own sector. Hissing with hardly audible sighs, the weapons fired their +stange pellets, and once again as over the woods on the Englewood +Palisades--really less than twenty-four hours ago, though it seemed +a month--the little greenish vapor-wisps floated down, down, sinking +gently on the Sahara air. + +This attack, they knew, must be decisive or all would be hopeless. The +last supply of capsules was now being exhausted. Everything had been +staked on one supreme effort. Quickly the attackers discharged their +weapons; then, having done all that could be done, lay prone and +waited. + +Once again that hollow moaning sound drifted in across the baked +expanse of the Sahara--a strange, empty sound, unreal and ominous. +Then came a stir of sultry breeze, from the east. It strengthened; +and a fine, crepitant sliding of sand-particles became audible. Rrisa +stirred uneasily. + +"Master," he whispered, "we should not delay. If the _jinnee_ of the +waste overtake us, we may be lost." + +"The _jinnee_ of the waste?" the Master answered, in a low tone. "What +nonsense is this?" + +"The simoom, Master--the storm of sand. We call it the work of evil +spirits!" + +The Master made no reply, save to command silence. + +For a time nothing happened in the Arabs' camp. Then came a little +stir, off there in the gloom. A sound of voices grew audible. The name +of Allah drifted out of the all-enveloping night, to them, and that of +his Prophet. A cry: "_Ya Abd el Kadir_--" calling on a patron saint, +died before the last word, "_Jilani_," could find utterance. Then +silence, complete and leaden, fell with uncanny suddenness. + +The Master laughed, dryly. He touched Leclair's arm. + +"Strong medicine for the Beni Harb, Lieutenant," said he. "Their own +_imams_ (priests) have strong medicine, too, but not so strong as that +of the cursed sons of Feringistan. Sleep already lies heavy on the +eyelids of these sons of Allah. And a deeper sleep shall soon overcome +them. Tell me, Lieutenant, can you kill men wholesale?" + +"Yes, my Captain." + +"Sleeping men, who cannot resist you? Can you kill them +scientifically, in masses, without anger?" + +"How do you know now, my Captain, that it will not be in anger?" +And the Frenchman half eased himself up on hands and knees, peering +forward into the night. "After what these Beni Harb--or their close +kin--have done to me and to poor Lebon--listen! What was that?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"That far, roaring noise?" + +"It is nothing! A little wind, maybe; but it is nothing, nothing! +Come, I am ready for the work!" + +The Master stood up. Rrisa followed suit. No longer crawling, but +walking erect, they advanced. They still used caution, careful to make +no noise; but confidence had entered into them. Were not the Arabs all +asleep? + +The white men's faces were pale and drawn, with grim determination for +the task that lay ahead--the task of converting the Beni Harb's camp +into a shambles. The Arab's face, with white-rimmed eyes and with +lips drawn back from teeth, had become that of a wild animal. Rrisa's +nostrils were dilated, to scent out the enemy. He was breathing hard, +as if he had run a mile. + +"They are near, now, _Ya M'almé!_" said he. "They are close at hand, +these _nakhawilah_! (pariahs). Allah, the high, the great, hath +delivered them into our hands. Verily there is no power or might but +Allah. Shall I scout ahead, Master, and spy out the camp?" + +"No, Rrisa. I send no man where I will not gladly go myself. All three +of us, forward!" + +Again they advanced, watchful, revolvers in hands, ready for any +sudden ambush. All at once, as they came up over a breastwork of hard +clay and gravel that heaved itself into rolling sands, the camp of the +Beni Harb became visible. Dim, brown and white figures were lying all +about, distorted in strange attitudes, on the sand beyond the ridge. +There lay the despoilers of the Haram, the robber-tribe of Sheik Abd +el Rahman, helpless in blank unconsciousness. + +The Master laughed bitterly, as he strode forward into the camp, the +long lines of which stretched vaguely away toward the coast where the +fire was still leaping up against the stars, now paled with a strange +haze. + +Starlight showed weapons lying all about--long rifles and primitive +flint-locks; _kanat_ spears of Indian male-bamboo tipped with steel +and decorated with tufts of black ostrich-feathers; and _jambiyehs_, +or crooked daggers, with wicked points and edges. + +"Save your fire, men," said the Master picking up a spear. "There +are plenty of means, here, to give these dogs the last sleep, without +wasting good ammunition. Choose the weapon you can handle best, and +fall to work!" + +With a curse on the heretic Beni Harb, and a murmur of thanks to Allah +for this wondrous hour, Rrisa caught up a short javelin, of the kind +called _mirzak_. The lieutenant chose a wide-bladed sword. + +"Remember only one thing, my brothers in arms!" exclaimed the Master. +"But that is most vital!" He spoke in Arabic. + +"And what may it be?" asked the Frenchman, in the same tongue. + +"I do not know whether old Sheik Abd el Rahman is with this party or +not, but if either of you find him, kill him not! Deliver him to me!" + +"Listen, Master!" exclaimed Rrisa, and thrust the point of his javelin +deep into the sand. + +"Well, what now, Rrisa?" + +"Shall we, after all, kill these sleeping swine-brothers?" + +"Eh, what? Thy heart then, hath turned to water? Thou canst not kill? +They attacked us--this is justice!" + +"And if they live, they will surely wipe us out!" put in the +Frenchman, staring in the gloom. "What meaneth this old woman's +babble, son of the Prophet?" + +"It is not that my heart hath turned to water, nor have the fountains +of mine eyes been opened to pity," answered Rrisa. "But some things +are worse than death, to all of Arab blood. To be despoiled of arms +or of horses, without a fight, makes an Arab as the worm of the earth. +Then he becometh an outcast, indeed! 'If you would rule, disarm'," he +quoted the old proverb, and added another: "'Man unarmed in the desert +is like a bird shorn of wings.'" + +"What is thy plain meaning in all this?" demanded the chief. + +"Listen, _M'almé_. If you would be the Sheik of Sheiks, carry away +all these weapons, and let these swine awaken without them. They would +drag their way back to the oases and the black tents, with a story +the like of which hath never been told in the Empty Abodes. The Sahara +would do homage, Master, even as if the Prophet had returned!" + +"_Lah_! I am not thinking of the Sahara. The goal lies far beyond--far +to eastward." + +"Still, the folk are Arabs there, too. They would hear of this, and +bow to you, my _M'almé_!" + +"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I can take no chances, Rrisa. The land, here +and to the eastward, might all arise against us. The tribes might come +against us like the _rakham_, the carrion-vultures. No, we must kill +and kill, so that no man remaineth here--none save old Abd el Rahman, +if Allah deliver him into our hands!" + +"That is your firm command, Master?" + +"My firm command!" + +"To hear the Master is to obey. But first, grant me time for my +_isha_, my evening prayer!" + +"It is granted. And, Rrisa, _there_ is the _kiblah_, the direction of +Mecca!" + +The Master pointed exactly east. Rrisa faced that way, knelt, +prostrated himself. He made ablution with sand, as Mohammed allows +when water cannot be found. Even as he poured it down his face, the +strangely gusting wind flicked it away in little whirls. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +THE GREAT PEARL STAB + +The Master began to feel a peculiar anxiety. Into the east he peered, +where now indeed a low, steady hum was growing audible, as of a +million angry spirits swarming nearer. The stars along that horizon +had been blotted out, and something like a dark blanket seemed to be +drawing itself across the sky. + +"My Captain," said the lieutenant, "there may be trouble brewing, +close at hand. A sand-storm, unprotected as we are--" + +"Men with stern work to do cannot have time to fear the future!" + +Leclair grew silent. Rrisa alone was speaking, now. With a call of +"_Ya Latif!_" (O Merciful One!) he had begun the performance of his +ceremony, with rigid exactness. He ended with another prostration and +the usual drawing down of the hands over the face. Then he arose, took +up his javelin again, and with a clear conscience--since now his rites +had all been fulfilled--cried aloud: + +"Now, Master, I am ready for the work of helping Azraël, the +death-angel, separate the souls and bodies of these Shiah heretics!" + +A sudden howling of a jackal startled Rrisa. He quivered and +stood peering into the night, where now the unmistakable hum of +an approaching sand-storm was drawing near. His superstitious soul +trembled with the old belief of his people that creatures of the +dog breed can see Azraël, invisible to human eyes. At thought of +the death-angel standing nigh, his heart quaked; but rage and hate +inspired him, and he muttered: + +"Fire to your bellies, broiling in white flame! Fuel of Jehannum, may +Eblis be your bed, an unhappy couch! Spawn of Shaytan (Satan), boiling +water to cool your throats! At Al Hakkat (judgment day) may the +_jinnee_ fly away with you!" + +"To work, men!" cried the Master. "There is great work to do!" + +As if in answer to his command, a blustering, hot buffet of wind +roared down with amazing suddenness, filling the dark air with a +stinging drive of sand. The fire by the beach flailed into long +tongues of flame, throwing black shadows along the side of the wady. +No stars were now visible. From empty spaces, a soughing tumult leaped +forth; and on the instant a furious gust of fine, cutting particles +whirled all about, thicker than driven snow in a northern blizzard. + +"Iron, O thou ill-omened one!" cried Rrisa, with the ancient +invocation against the sand-storm. He stretched out his forefinger, +making the sign of protection. Neither the meaning of his cry nor +of the gesture could he have explained; but both came to him +involuntarily, from the remote lore of his people. + +He turned from the oncoming storm, leaning against the wind, clutching +for his cap that the wind-devil had just whirled away. After it he +stumbled; and, falling to his knees, groped for it in the gloom. + +"Thousand devils!" ejaculated the Frenchman. "No time, now, for +killing! Lucky if we get back ourselves, alive, to the beach! My +Captain!" + +"What now?" the Master flung at him, shielding mouth and eyes with +cupped hands. + +"To the wady, all of us! That may give protection till this blast of +Hell passes!" + +A startled cry from Rrisa forestalled any answer. The Arab's voice +rose in a wild hail from the sand-filled dark: + +"O _M'almé_, _M'almé!_" + +"What, Rrisa?" + +"Behold! I--_I have found him!_" + +"Found--?" shouted the Master, plunging forward. + +Leclair followed close, staggering in the sudden gale. "_Abd el +Rahman?_" + +"The old hyena, surely! _M'almé, M'almé! See!_" + +The white men stumbled with broken ejaculations to where Rrisa was +crouched over a gaunt figure in the drifting sand. + +"Is that he, Rrisa?" cried the Master. "Art thou sure?" + +"As that my mother bore me! See the old jackal, the son of Hareth! +(the devil). Ah, see, see!" + +"_Dieu_!" exclaimed the Frenchman, in his own tongue. "It is none +other!" With a hand of great rejoicing, he stirred the unconscious +Sheik--over whom the sand was already sifting as the now ravening +simoom lashed it along. + +Forgotten now were all his fears of death in the sand-storm. This +delivery of the hated one into his hands had filled him with a savage +joy, as it had the two others. + +"Ah, _mon vieux!_" he cried. "It is only the mountains that never +meet, in time!" + +The Master laughed, one of those rare flashes of merriment that +at infrequent intervals pierced his austerity. Away on the growing +sand-storm the wind whipped that laugh. Simoom and sand now appeared +forgotten by the trio. Keen excitement had gripped them; it held them +as they crouched above the Sheik. + +"Allah is being good to us!" exulted the Master, peering by the +gale-driven fire-glare. "This capture is worth more to the Legion than +a hundred machine-guns. What will not the orthodox tribes give for +this arch-Shiah, this despoiler of the sacred Haram at Mecca?" + +He began feeling in the bosom of the old man, opening the cloaklike +burnous and exploring the neck and chest with eager fingers. + +"If we could only lay hands on the fabled loot of the Haram!" he +whispered, his voice tense with excitement. + +Rrisa, wide-eyed, with curling lips of scorn, peered down at the +Sheik. The orderly, bare-headed, was shielding eyes and face from the +sand-blast, with hands that trembled. His teeth were bared with hate +as he peered at the prostrate heretic. + +A tall, powerful figure of a man the Sheik was, lying there on his +right side with his robe crumpled under him--the robe now flapping, +whipping its loose ends in the high and rising wind. His _tarboosh_ +had been blown away, disclosing white hair. + +That hair, too, writhed and flailed in the gusts that drove it full +of sand, that drifted his whole body with the fine and stinging +particles. His beard, full and white, did not entirely conceal the +three parallel scars on each cheek, the _mashali_, which marked him as +originally a dweller at Mecca. + +One sinewy brown arm was outflung, now almost wholly buried in the +growing sand-drift. The hand still gripped a long, gleaming rifle, +its stock and barrel elaborately arabesqued in silver picked out with +gold. + +"Ah!" exclaimed the Master again, pulling at a thin crimson cord his +questing fingers had discovered about the old man's neck. With hands +that trembled a little, he drew out this cord. Then he uttered an +exclamation of intense disappointment. + +There was nothing at the end of the crimson loop, save a _lamail_, or +pocket Koran. Leclair muttered a curse, and moved away, peering +toward the fire, spying out the wady through the now almost choking +sand-drive--the wady where they certainly must soon take refuge or be +overwhelmed by the buffeting lash of sand whirled on the breath of the +shouting tempest. + +Even in the Master's anger, he did not throw the Koran away. Too +astute, he, for any such act in presence of Rrisa. Instead, he bound +the Arab to fresh devotion by touching lips and forehead, and by +handing him the little volume. The Master's arm had to push its way +against the wind as against a solid thing; and the billion rushing +spicules of sand that swooped in upon him from the desert emptiness, +stung his flesh like tiny scourges. + +"This Koran, Rrisa, is now thine!" he cried in a loud voice, to make +the Arab hear him. "And a great gift to thee, a Sunnite, is the Koran, +of this desecrating son of the rejected!" + +Bowed before the flail of the sand--while Rrisa uttered broken words +of thanks--the Master called to Leclair: + +"By _Corsi_ (Allah's throne), now things assume a different aspect! +This old dog of dogs is a prize, indeed! And--what now--" + +Leclair did not answer. The Frenchman was not even near him. The +Master saw him in the wady, dimly visible through the ghostly white +sand-shrouds spinning in the blue-whipped fire-glare. There on hands +and knees the lieutenant was huddled. With eager hands he was tearing +the hood of a _za'abut_--a rough, woolen slave cloak, patched and +ragged--from the face of a prostrate figure more than half snowed +under a sand-drift. + +"_Nom de Dieu!_" the Master heard him cry. "_Mais, nom de_--" + +"What have you found, Lieutenant?" shouted the Master, letting the +simoom drive him toward the wady. In their excitement none of the men +would yet take cover, lie down and hide their faces under their coats +as every dictate of prudence would have bidden. "Who is it, now? +What--" + +"Ah, my Captain! Ah! the pity of it! Behold!" + +The Frenchman's voice, wind-gusted, trembled with grief and passionate +anger; yet through that rage and sorrow rang a note of joy. + +"Tell me, Leclair! Who, now?" demanded the Master, as he came close +and peered down by the fire-gleam roaring on the beach, sending +sheaves of sparks in comet-tails of vanishing radiance down-wind with +rushing sand. + +"It is impossible, my Captain," the lieutenant answered in French. His +voice could now make itself heard more clearly; for here in the wady +a certain shelter existed from the roaring sand-cyclone. "Impossible, +but--_Dieu_!--it is true!" + +"What is true?" + +"Incredible, yet--_voilŕ_!" + +"In Allah's name, Lieutenant!" the Master ejaculated, "compose +yourself! Explain! Who is this Arab, here?" + +"No Arab, sir! No, no!" + +"Not an Arab? Well, what is he, then?" + +"Ah, these scars, my Captain! Behold--see the slave dress, the weals +of the branding-iron on cheek and brow! Ah, for pity! See the starved +body, the stripes of the lash, the feet mangled by the bastinado! What +horrible things they have done to him--ah, God have pity on us!" + +Tears gleamed on the stern fighter's cheeks, there in the ghostly blue +firelight--tears that washed little courses through the dust and sand +now griming his face. The French airman, hard in battle and with heart +of steel and flame, was crying like a child. + +"What now? Who is it?" shouted the Master. "A European?" + +"Yes, my Captain! A Frenchman!" + +"A Frenchman. You don't mean to say it--is--" + +"Yes, yes! My orderly! Lebon!" + +"God!" exclaimed the Master. "But--" + +A cry from Rrisa interrupted him, a cry that flared down-wind with +strange, wild exultation. The Arab had just risen from the sand, near +the unconscious, in-drifting form of the Sheik, Abd el Rahman. + +In his hands he was holding something--holding a leather sack with a +broken cord attached to it. This cord in some way had been severed by +the Sheik's rifle when the old man had fallen. The leather sack had +rolled a few feet away. Now, with hands that shook so that the Arab +could hardly control them, Rrisa was holding out this sack as he +staggered through the blinding sand-storm towards his chief. + +"_Al Hamdu Lillah!_" (Praise to the Lord of the Three Worlds!) choked +Rrisa in a strange voice, fighting for his very breath. "See--see what +I--have found!" + +Staring, blinking, trying to shelter his eyes against the demons of +the storm, the Master turned toward him. + +"What, Rrisa?" + +Down into the wady stumbled the Arab, gray-powdered with clinging +sand. + +"Oh," he choked, "it has been taken from these _yezid_, these abusers +of the salt! Now we rescue it from these cut-off ones! From the swine +and brothers of the swine it has been taken by Allah, and put back +into the hands of Rrisa, Allah's slave! See, _M'almé_, see!" + +The shaking hands extended the leather sack. At it the Master stared, +his face going dead white. + +"Thou--dost not mean--?" he stammered. + +"Truly, I do!" + +"Not Kaukab el Durri?" + +"Aye--it was lying near that heretic dog!" + +"The Great Pearl Star, the sacred loot from the Haram?" + +"Kaukab el Durri, _M'almé_. The Great Pearl Star itself!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +THE SAND-DEVILS + +With hands that quivered in unison with his nerves, now no longer +impassive, the strange chief of this still stranger expedition took +from Rrisa the leather sack. Over the top of the wady a million +sand-devils were screeching. The slither of the dry snow--the white, +fine snow of sand--filled all space with a whispering rustle that +could be heard through the shouting of the simoom. + +Sand was beating on them, everywhere, in the darkness lighted only by +the tortured beach-fire. The stinging particles assailed eyes, ears, +mouth; it whitened clothing, sifted into hair, choked breath. But +still the Legionaries could not take shelter under their coats. In +this moment of wondrous finding, they must see the gem of gems that +Kismet had thus flung into their grasp. + +The Master loosed a knot in the cord, drew the sack open and shook +into his left palm a thing of marvellous beauty and wonder. + +By the dim, fitful gleam of the fire, probably the strangest and most +costly necklace in the world became indistinctly visible. At sight of +it, everything else was forgotten--the wrecked air-liner, the waiting +Legion, the unconscious Arabs now being buried in the resistless +charge of the sand-armies. Even poor Lebon, tortured slave of the Beni +Harb, a lay neglected. For nothing save the wondrous Great Pearl Star +could these three adventurers find any gaze whatever, or any thoughts. + +While Leclair and Rrisa stared with widening eyes, the Master, tense +with joy, held up their treasure-trove. + +"The Great Pearl Star!" he cried, in a strange voice. + +"Kaukab el Durri! See, one pearl is missing--that is the one said to +have been sold in Cairo, twelve years ago, for fifty-five thousand +pounds! But these are finer! And its value as a holy relic of +Islam--who can calculate that? God, what this means to us!" + +Words will not compass the description of this wondrous thing. As +the Master held it up in the sand-lashed dimness, half-gloom and +half-light, that formed a kind of aura round the fire--an aura sheeted +through and all about by the aerial avalanches of the sand--the +Legionaries got some vague idea of the necklace. + +Three black pearls and two white were strung on a fine chain of gold. +A gap in their succession told where the missing pearl formerly had +been. Each of the five pearls was of almost incalculable value; but +one, an iridescent Oman, far surpassed the others. + +This pearl was about the size of a man's largest thumb-joint. Its +shape was a smooth oval; its hue, even in that dim, wind-tossed light, +showed a wondrous, tender opalescence that seemed to change and blend +into rainbow iridescences as the staring Legionaries peered at it. +The other pearls, black and white alike, ranked as marvelous gems; +but this crown-jewel of the Great Pearl Star eclipsed anything the +Master--for all his wide travel and experience of life--ever had seen. + +By way of strange contrast in values the pearls were separated +from each other by worthless, little, smooth lumps of madrepore, +or unfossilized coral. These lumps were covered with tiny black +inscriptions in archaic Cufic characters; though what the significance +of these might be, the Master could not--in that gloom and howling +drive of the sand-devils--even begin to determine. + +The whole adornment, as it lay in the Master's palm, typified the +Orient. For there was gold; there were gems and bits of worthless +dross intermingled; and there about it was drifting sand of infinite +ages, darkness, flashes of light, color, mystery, wonder, beauty. + +"God! What this means!" the Master repeated, as the three men cringed +in the wady. "Success, dominion, power!" + +"You mean--" put in Leclair, his voice smitten away by the +ever-increasing storm that ravened over the top of the gully. + +"What do I _not_ mean, Lieutenant? No wonder the Apostate Sheik had to +flee from Mecca and take refuge here in this impassable wilderness at +the furthest rim of Islam! No wonder he has been hounded and hunted! +The only miracle is that some of his own tribesmen have not betrayed +him before now!" + +"Master, no Arab betrays his own sheik, right or wrong!" said Rrisa in +a strange voice. "Before that, an Arab dies by his own hand!" He spoke +in Arabic, with a peculiar inflection. + +Their eyes met a second by the light of the gusting fire. + +"Right or wrong, _M'almé_!" repeated the Arab. Then he added: "Shall I +not now go to drag in the swine-brother Abd el Rahman?" + +"Thou sayst, if he be left there--" + +"Yes, Master, he will surely die. All who are not sheltered, now, +will die. All who lie there on the dune, will be drifted under, will +breathe sand, will perish." + +"It is well, Rrisa. Go, drag in the swine-brother. But have a care to +harm him not. Thou wouldst gladly slay him, eh?" + +"More gladly than to live myself! Still, I obey. I go, I bring him +safe to you, O Master!" + +He salaamed, turned, and vanished up over the edge of the wady. + +The lieutenant, warned of the danger of sand-breathing by an +unconscious man, drew the hood of the woollen _za'abut_ up over the +face of Lebon. There was nothing more he could do for the poor fellow. +Only with the passage of time could he be reawakened. The French ace +turned again to where his chief was still scrutinizing the Pearl Star +as he crouched in the wady, back to the storm-wind, face toward the +fire on the beach. + +"Do you realize what this thing is?" demanded the Master, turning the +necklace in his hands. "Do you understand?" + +"I have heard of it, my Captain. For years vague rumors have come to +me from the desert-men, from far oases and cities of the Sahara. Now +here, now there, news has drifted in to Algiers--not news, but rather +fantastic tales. Yes, I have often heard of the Kaukab el Durri. But +till now I have always believed it a story, a myth." + +"No myth, but solid fact!" exulted the Master, with a strange laugh. +"This, Lieutenant, is the very treasure that Mohammed gathered +together during many years of looting caravans in the desert and +of capturing _sambuks_ on the Red Sea. Arabia, India, and China all +contributed to it. The Prophet gave it to his favorite wife, Ayeshah, +as he lay dying at Medina in the year 632, with his head in her lap. + +"Next to the Black Stone, itself, it is possibly the most precious +thing in Islam. And now, now with this Great Pearl Star in our hands, +what is impossible?" + +Silence fell between the two men. They still huddled there in the +partial protection of the wady, while all the evil _jinnee_ of the +sand-storm shrieked blackly overhead. With no further words they +continued to study the wondrous thing. The fire was dying, now, burned +out by the fierce blast of the storm and blown away to sea in long +spindrifts of spark and vapor, white as the sand-drive itself. By the +fading light little could now be seen of the Great Pearl Star. The +Master replaced it in its leather bag, knotted the cord securely about +the mouth of the receptacle, and pocketed it. + +A rattle of pebbles down the side of the wady, and a grunting call, +told them Rrisa had returned. Dimly they saw him dragging the old +Sheik over the lip of the gully, down into its half-protection. He +brought the unconscious man to them, and--though bowed by the frenzy +of the storm--managed a salute. + +"Here, Master, I have saved him from the _jinnee_ of the desert," +Rrisa pantingly announced. His voice trembled with a passionate hate; +his eyes gleamed with excitement; his nails dug into the palms of his +hands. "Now Master, gladden my eyes and expand my breast by letting me +see this old jackal's blood!" + +"No, Rrisa," the Master denied him. "I have other use for the old +jackal. Other punishments await him than death at my hands." + +"What punishments, Master?" the Arab cried with terrible eagerness. + +"Wait, and thou shalt see. And remember always, I am thy sheik, thy +preserver, with whom thou hast shared the salt. 'He who violates the +salt shall surely taste Jahannum!'" + +"Death shall have me, first!" cried Rrisa, and fell silent. And for +a while the three men crouched in the wady with the two unconscious +ones, torturer and victim. At length the Master spoke: + +"This won't do, Lieutenant. We must be getting back." + +Leclair peered at him in the screaming dark. + +"Why, my Captain?" asked he. "The Legionaries can care for themselves. +If _Nissr_ is breaking up, in the gale, we can do nothing. And on +the way we may be lost. To retrace our journey over the desert would +surely be to invite death." + +"We must return, nevertheless. This storm may last all night, and it +may blow itself out in half an hour. That cannot be told. The Legion +may think us lost, and try to search for us. Lives may be sacrificed. +Morale demands that we go back. Moreover, we certainly need not +traverse the desert." + +"How, then?" + +"We can descend the wady to the beach, and make southward along it, +under the shelter of the dunes." + +"In the noise and confusion of the storm they may take us for Arabs +and shoot us down." + +"I will see to that. Come, we must go! Carry Lebon, if you like. Rrisa +and I will take Abd el Rahman." + +"_M'almé_, not Abd el Rahman, now," ejaculated Rrisa, "but Abd el +Hareth![1] Let that be his title!" + +[Footnote 1: The former name signifies "Slave of Compassion;" the +latter, "Slave of the Devil."] + +"As thou wishest, Rrisa. But come, take his feet. I will hold him by +the shoulders. So! Now, forward!" + +"And have a care not to breathe the sand, Master," Rrisa warned. "Turn +thy face away when the _jinnee_ smite!" + +Stumbling, heavy-laden, the three men made their painful way down to +the beach, turned to the left, and plowed southward in deep sand. As +they left the remains of the fire a great blackness fell upon them. +The boisterous exultation of the wind, howling in from a thousand +miles of hot emptiness, out over the invisible sea now chopped into +frothy waves, seemed snatching at them. But the dunes at their left +flung the worst of the sand-storm up and over. And though whirls and +air-eddies, sand-laden, snatched viciously at them, they won along the +beach. + +That was lathering toil, burdened as they were, stumbling over +driftwood and into holes, laboring forward, hardly able to distinguish +more than the rising, falling line of white that marked the surf. +Voices of water and of wind conclamantly shouted, as if all the devils +of the Moslem Hell had been turned loose to snatch and rave at them. +Heat, stifle, sand caught them by the throat; the breath wheezed in +their lungs; and on their faces sweat and sand pasted itself into a +kind of sticky mud. + +After fifteen minutes of this struggle the Master paused. He dropped +Abd el Rahman's shoulders, and Rrisa the Sheik's feet, while Leclair +stood silently bowed with the weight of Lebon and of the belaboring +storm. + +"_Oooo-eeee! Oooooeeee! Oooooo-eeee!_" the Master hailed, three long +times. An answering shout came back, faintly, from the black. The +Master bent, assured himself the old Sheik's mouth and nose were still +covered by the hood of the burnous, and cried: "Forward!" And the +three men stumbled on and on. + +Five minutes later the Master once more paused. + +"Remember, both of you," he cautioned, "not one word of the find!" + +"The Great Pearl Star?" asked Leclair gruntingly. + +Their voices were almost inaudible to each other in that mad tumult. +"That is to be a secret, my Captain?" + +"Between us three; yes. Let that be understood!" + +"I pledge my honor to it!" cried the Frenchman. Rrisa added: "The +Master has but to command, and it is done!" Then once more they plowed +on down the shore. + +Only a few minutes more brought them, with surprising suddenness, to +the end of the Legionaries' trench. Trench it no longer was, however. +All the paltry digging had been swiftly filled in by the sand-devils; +and now the men were lying under the lee of the dunes, protecting +themselves as best they could with the tunics of their uniforms over +their heads. + +They got up and came stumbling in confusion to greet the returning +trio. Peering in the dark, straining their eyes to see, they listened +to a few succinct words of the Master: + +"Perfect success! Lethalizing was complete. Sand has buried the entire +tribe. Leclair found his former orderly, who had been their slave. +We have here their Sheik, Abd el Rahman. Nothing more to fear. Down, +everybody--tunics over heads again--let the storm blow itself out!" + +The Legion lay for more than an hour, motionless, waiting in the +night. During this hour both Lebon and the old Sheik recovered +consciousness, but only in a vague manner. There was no attempt to +tell them anything, to make any plans, to start any activities. In a +Sahara simoom, men are content just to live. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +TOIL AND PURSUIT + +Before midnight the storm died with a suddenness even greater than +that of its onset. Like a tangible flock of evil birds or of the +spirits Victor Hugo has painted in _Les Djinns_, the sand-storm blew +itself out to sea and vanished. The black sky opened its eyes of +starlight, once again; gradually calm descended on the desert, and by +an hour after midnight the steady east wind had begun to blow again. + +The "wolf's tail," or first gray streak of dawn along the horizon, +found the Legion all astir. Lebon had long since been told of his +rescue; he and his lieutenant had embraced and had given each other a +long story--the enslaved man's story making Leclair's face white with +rage, his heart a furnace of vengeance on all Islam. + +The Sheik, dimly understanding that these devils of Feringistan had by +their super-magic overwhelmed him and his tribe with sleep-magic +and storm-magic of the strongest, lay bound hand and foot, sullenly +brooding. No one could get a word from Abd el Rahman; not even Rrisa, +who exhausted a wonderful vocabulary of imprecation on him, until the +Master sternly bade him hold his peace. + +A gaunt, sunken-eyed old hawk of the desert he lay there in the sand, +unblinkingly defiant. Tortures and death, he felt, were to be his +portion; but with the stoicism of the barbarian he made no sound. +What his thoughts were, realizing the loss of tribesmen, capture, +despoilment of the Great Pearl Star, who could tell? + +A wondrous dawn, all mingled of scarlet, orange, and vivid yellows, +with streaks of absinthe hue, burned up over the desert world. It +showed _Nissr_ about as she had been the night before; for the simoom +had not thrashed up sea enough--offshore, as it had been--to break up +the partial wreck. + +The air-liner had, however, settled down a good deal in the sand, +and had canted at a sharp angle to port. Her galleries, fuselage, +and wings were heavily laden with sand that materially increased her +weight; and to the casual eye she gave the impression of a bird which +never again would soar on level wing. + +The major voiced discouragement, but no one shared it. Spirits were +still high, in spite of thirst and exhaustion, and of the losses +already sustained in men and material. Lombardo and "Captain Alden" +had patched up the wounded in rough, first-aid fashion; and they, +in spite of pain, shared the elation of the others in the entire +wiping-out of the Beni Harb. + +As soon as the light permitted operations to begin again, the Legion +trekked over to the Arabs' former lines. Nothing now remained to tell +them of the enemy, save here or there the flutter of a bit of burnous +or _cherchia_ (head-dress), that fluttered from the white sand now +all ribbed in lovely scollops like the waves of a moveless sea. In one +spot a naked brown arm and hand were projecting heavenward, out of the +sand-ocean, as if in mute appeal to Allah. + +The Legionaries heaped sand on this grim bit of death, completely +burying it, and on the fluttering cloths. And as they peered abroad +across the desert, in the glory of morning, now nothing could be seen +to mind them of the fighting-men who, like the host of Sennacherib, +had been brushed by the death-angel's wing. + +The jackals knew, though, and the skulking hyenas, already +sneaking in the _nullahs_; and so did the _rion_ and the yellow +_ukab_-birds--carrion-fowl, both--which already from the farthest +blue, had begun to wheel and volplane toward the coast. + +Back on the beach, exultant, yet rather silent in the face of all that +death, the Legion at once got itself into action under the vigorous +command of the Master. Twenty-three men were still fit and active for +service; and both Enemark and Lebon would in a few days be of help. + +"Man-power enough," thought the Master, as he laid out his campaign. +"The only troublesome factors, are, first, _Nissr's_ condition; +second, our lack of water and supplies; and third, the possibility of +interference from Arabs or European forces, by land or sea. If we can +overcome all these--_if_, did I say? We can! We will!" + +First of all, three volunteers swam out to _Nissr_ through the surf +now again beating in from the open sea. Their purpose was to bring the +wounded Kloof ashore. Even though Kloof's oversight of the stowaway +had wrecked the expedition, and though Kloof would probably be +executed in due time, common humanity dictated succoring him. + +The volunteers returned, after a hard fight, with a body past any +human judgments. Kloof, Daimamoto, Sheffield, and Beziers, all of +whom had lost their lives in the battle with the Beni Harb, were +soon buried on the beach by the hungry, thirsty, sand-penetrated +Legionaries. The shallow graves were piled with driftwood--rocks there +were none, even in the wady, which' was of clay and gravel--and so, +protected as best might be from beasts and birds, four of the +Legion entered their long homes. The only ceremony over the fallen +adventurers was the firing of a volley of six pistol-shots. + +Swiftly returning heat, and a plague of black flies that poisoned with +every bite, warned the Legionaries not to delay. Hunger and thirst, +too, scourged them on. Their first care was food and drink. + +Fortune favored them. In spite of the simoom the prevailing west +wind had cast up all along the shore--for two or three miles each +way--perhaps a quarter or a third of the stores they had been forced +to jettison. Before doing anything else, the Legion brought in these +cases of provisions and established a regular camp in the wady where +they would be protected from observation from the Sahara. The piling +up of these stores, the building of a fire to keep off the flies, +and the portioning out of what little tobacco they had with them, +wonderfully stiffened their morale. + +Water, however, was still lacking; and all the Legionaries, as well +as the old Sheik who would have died in the flames before asking +for drink, were beginning to suffer extremely. The Master detailed +Simonds, L'Heureux, and Seres to construct a still, which they did in +only a little more than three hours. + +The apparatus was ingeniously and efficiently built, out of two large +provision tins and some piping which they got--together with a few +tools--by swimming out to the air-liner. The still, with a brisk fire +under it, proved capable of converting sea-water into flat, tasteless +fresh water at the rate of two quarts an hour. Thirsty they might +all get, to desperation; but with this supply they could survive till +better could be had. + +While the distilling apparatus was being built, work was already under +way on _Nissr_; work which old Abd el Rahman watched with beady eyes +of hate; work in which Dr. Lombardo, fellow-partner in Kloof's guilt, +was allowed to share--the condition being frankly stated to him that +his punishment was merely being deferred. + +Under the Master's direction, stout mooring-piles of driftwood were +sunk into the dunes, block-and-tackle gear was improvised, and lines +were rove to the airship. She was lightened by shoveling several tons +of sand from her and by removing everything easily detachable; the men +working in baths of sweat, with a kind of ardent abandon. + +Enough power was still left in her storage-batteries to operate the +air-pressure system through the floats. This air, with a huge boiling +and seething of the white surf, loosened the floats from the cling of +the sand; and a score of men at the tackles succeeded at high-tide in +hauling _Nissr_ far up on the beach. + +Rough gear, broken ship, toiling men blind with sweat, blazing African +sun, appalling isolation, vultures and jackals at work behind the +dunes, and--back of all--ocean and Sahara, made a picture fit for any +master-painter. We must throw only one glance at it, and pass on. + +This much accomplished, nightfall, with the west glowing like +a stupendous jewel, brought rest. They camped in the wady, with +machine-guns mounted and sentinels out. Abd el Rahman, liberated from +his bonds and under strict surveillance, still refused to talk. No +information could be got from him; but Rrisa's eyes brightened with +unholy joy at sight of the old man ceremonially tearing his burnous +and sifting sand on his gray head. + +"Allah smite thy face, _ya kalb!_" (O dog!) he murmured. "Robber of +the Haram, from Jehannum is thy body!"[1] + +[Footnote 1: Alluding to the Arab superstition that every man's body +is drawn from the place where it will eventually be buried. Rrisa's +remark, therefore, was an Oriental way of wishing the Sheik back into +Hell.] + +Night passed with no alarm, quietly save for the yelping and +quarreling of the jackals and hyenas at work beyond the dunes. Early +morning found the Legionaries again at work; and so for five days they +toiled. The Legion was composed of picked men, skilled in science and +deep in technical wisdom. With what tools still remained from the time +when all surplus weight had been jettisoned, and with some improvised +apparatus, they set vigorously to work repairing the engines, fitting +new rudder-plates, patching up the floats and providing the burned +propellers with metal blades. + +Metal enough they had at hand, by cutting out dispensable partitions +from the interior. And beavers never worked as these men worked in +spite of the fierce smitings of the tropic sun. Even the wounded men +helped, holding or passing tools. The Master labored with the rest, +grimy, sweating, hard-jawed; and "Captain Alden" did her bit without +a moment's slackening. Save for Abd el Rahman, now securely locked +without any means of self-destruction in a stateroom, no man idled. + +Anxiety dogged their every moment. Sudden storm might yet hopelessly +break up the stranded air-liner. Other tribes might have seen the +signal-fire and might descend upon the Legionaries. Arab slavers might +discover them, beating along the coast in well-armed dhows. Twice, in +five days, latteen-sailed craft passed south, and one of these put +in to investigate; but a tray of blanks from a machine-gun, at half a +mile, turned the invader's blunt nose seaward again. + +The greatest peril of all was that some news of the wreck might reach +Rio de Oro and be wirelessed to civilization. That would inevitably +mean ruin. Either it would bring an air-squadron swooping down, or +battle-ships would arrive. + +The Master labored doggedly to get his neutralizing apparatus +effectively operating once more; and besides this, he spent hours +locked in his cabin, working on other apparatus the nature of which +he communicated to no one. But the Legion knew that nothing could +save them from long-range naval guns, if that kind of attack should +develop. They needed no urging to put forth stern, unceasing energies. +Twice smoke on the horizon raised the alarm; but nothing came of it. + +With great astuteness the Master had the wireless put in shape, at +once, and sent out three messages at random, on two successive days. +These messages stated that _Nissr_ had been sighted in flames and +falling, in North latitude 19°, 35'; longitude 28°, 16', or about two +hundred and fifty miles north-west of the Cape Verdes; that wreckage +from her had been observed somewhat south of that point; and that +bodies floating in vacuum-belts had been recovered by a Spanish +torpedo-boat. + +No answer came in from any of these messages; but there was always +an excellent chance that such misinformation would drag a red herring +across the trail of pursuit. + +Men never slaved as the Legionaries did, especially toward the end. +The last forty-eight hours, the Master instituted night work. The men +paused hardly long enough to eat or sleep, but snatched a bite when +they could, labored till they could do no more, and then dropped in +their places and were dragged out of the way so that others could +take hold. Some fell asleep with tools in hand, stricken down as if by +apoplexy. + +The Master had wisely kept the pace moderate, at first, but had +speeded up toward the end. None grew more haggard, toil-worn, or +emaciated than he. With blistered hands, sweat-blinded eyes, parched +mouths and fevered souls these men fought against all the odds of +destiny. Half naked they strove, oppressed by heat, sun, flies, +thirst, exhaustion. Tobacco was their only stay and solace. The +Master, however, only chewed khat leaves; and as for "Captain Alden," +she toiled with no stimulant. + +It was 7:33, on the morning of the sixth day, that Frazier--now chief +engineer--came to the Master, as he was working over some complex bit +of mechanism in his cabin. Frazier saluted and made announcement: + +"I think we can make a try for it now, sir." Frazier looked white and +wan, shaking, hollow-eyed, but a smile was on his lips. "Two engines +are intact. Two will run half-speed or a little better, and one will +do a little." + +"One remains dead?" + +"Yes, sir. But we can repair that on the way. Rudders and propellers +will do. Helicopters O.K." + +"And floats?" + +"Both aft floats repaired, sir. One is cut down a third, and one a +half, but they will serve." + +"How about petrol?" the Master demanded. "We have only that one aft +starboard tank, now, not over three-quarters full." + +"There's a chance that will do till we can run down a caravan along +the Red Sea, carrying petrol to Suakin or Port Sudan. So there's a +fighting hope--if we can raise ourselves out of this sand that clings +like the devil himself. It's lucky, sir, we jettisoned those stores. +Wind and current brought some of them back, anyhow. If they'd stayed +in the storeroom they'd have all been burned to a crisp." + +"Yes, yes. You think, then, we can make a start?" The Master put his +apparatus into the desk-drawer and carefully locked it. He stood up +and tightened his belt a notch. + +"We can try, sir," Frazier affirmed grimly. Unshaven, haggard, dirty, +and streaked with sweat, he made a strange figure by contrast with the +trim, military-looking chap who only a week before had started with +the other Legionaries, now no less altered than he. + +"Very well," said the Master decisively. "Our prospects are good. The +wounded are coming on. Counting Lebon, we have twenty-five men. I +will have all stores reloaded at once. Be ready in one hour, sir. +Understand?" + +"Yes, sir!" And Frazier, saluting again, returned to the ravaged but +once more efficient engine-room. + +All hands plunged into the surf, wading ashore--for it was now +high-tide--and in short order reloaded the liner. In forty-five +minutes stores, machine-guns, and everything had been brought aboard, +the cables to the posts in the beach had been cast off and hauled in, +and all the Legionaries were at their posts. The ports were closed. +Everything was ready for the supreme test. + +The Master was last to come aboard. Still dripping seawater, he +clambered up the ladder from the lower gallery to the main corridor, +and made his way into the pilot-house. Bohannan was with him, also +Leclair and Captain Alden. + +The engines had already been started, and the helicopters had begun +to turn, flickering swiftly in their turbine-tubes. The Master settled +himself in the pilot's seat. All at once a buzzer sounded close at +hand. + +"Well, what now?" demanded the Master into the phone communicating +with the upper port gallery. + +"Smoke to southward, sir. Coming up along the Coast." + +"Smoke? A steamer?" + +"Can't see, sir." It was the voice of Ferrara that answered. "The +smoke is behind the long point to southward. But it is coming faster +than a merchant vessel. I should say, sir, it was a torpedo-boat or a +destroyer, under forced draft. And it's coming--it's coming at a devil +of a clip, sir!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +ONWARD TOWARD THE FORBIDDEN CITY + +The Master rang for full engine-power, and threw in all six +helicopters with one swift gesture. + +"Major," commanded he, as _Nissr's_ burned and wounded body began to +quiver through all its mutilated fabric; "Major, man the machine-guns +again. All stations! _Quick_!" + +Bohannan departed. The droning of the helicopters rose to a shrill +hum. The Master switched in the air-pressure system; and far +underneath, white fountains of spumy water leaped up about the floats, +mingled with sand and mud all churned to frenzy under the bursting +energy of the compressed air released through thousands of tubules. + +_Nissr_ trembled, hesitated, lifted a few inches, settled back once +more. + +Again the buzzer sounded. The noise of rapid feet became audible +above, in the upper galleries. Ferrara called into the phone: + +"It's a British destroyer, sir! She's just rounded the point, three +miles south. Signals up for us to surrender!" + +"Machine-guns against naval ordnance!" gritted the Master savagely. +"Surrender?" He laughed with hot defiance. + +The first shell flung a perfect tornado of brine into air, glistening; +it ricochetted twice, and plunged into the dunes. A "dud," it failed +to burst. + +_Nissr_ rose again as the second shell hit fair in the hard clay of +the wady, cascading earth and sand a hundred feet in air. Both reports +boomed in, rolling like thunder over the sea. + +"Shoot and be damned to you!" cried the Master. _Nissr_ was rising +now, clearing herself from the water like a wounded sea-bird. A +tremendous cascade of water sluiced from her hissing floats, swirling +in millions of sun-glinted jewels more brilliant even than Kaukab el +Durri. + +Higher she mounted, higher still. The destroyer was now driving in at +full speed, with black smoke streaming from four funnels, perfectly +indifferent to possible shoals, rocks or sand-bars along this +uncharted coast. Another shell screamed under the lower gallery and +burst in a deluge of sand near one of the mooring-piles. + +"Very poor shooting, my Captain," smiled Leclair, leaning far out the +port window of the pilot-house. "But then, we can't blame the gunners +for being a bit excited, trying to bag a bit of international game +like this Legion." + +"And beside," put in Alden coolly, "our shifting position makes us +rather a poor target. Ah! That shell must have gone home!" + +_Nissr_ quivered from nose to tail. A violent detonation flung echoes +from sea and shore; and bits of splintered wreckage spun down past the +windows, to plunge into the still swirling, bubbling sea. + +The Master made no answer, but rang for the propellers to be clutched +in. _Nissr_ obeyed their quickening whirl. Her altitude was already +four hundred and fifty feet, as marked by the altimeter. Lamely she +moved ahead, sagging to starboard, badly scarred, ill-trimmed and +awry, but still alive. + +Her great black shadow, trailing behind her in the water, passed on +to the beach, wrinkled itself up over the dunes and slid across the +sand-drifts where little flutters of cloth, uncovered by the ghoulish +jackals, showed from the burning stretch of tawny desert. + +Flocks of vultures rose and soared away. Jackals and hyenas cowered +and slunk to cover. The tumult of the guns and this vast, drifting +monster of the air had overcome even their greed for flesh. + +Another shot, puffing white as wool from the bow-chaser of the +destroyer, screeched through the vultures, scattering them all ways, +but made a clean miss of _Nissr_. + +The air-liner gathered speed as the west wind got behind her, listed +her, pushed her forward in its mighty hands. Swifter, ever swifter, +her shadow slipped over dune and wady, over hillock and _nullah_, off +away toward the pellucidly clear-golden tints of the horizon beyond +which lay the unknown. + +Rrisa, at his gun-station, gnawed his fingers in rage and scorn of +the pursuing Feringi, and cried: "Allah make it hard for you! +_Laan'abuk!_" (Curses on your fathers!) + +Old Sheik Abd el Rahman, close-locked in a cabin, quivered, not with +fear, but with unspeakable grief and amazement past all telling. To +be thus carried away through the heavens in the entrails of the +unbelievers' flying dragon was a thing not to be believed. He +prostrated himself, with groans and cries to Allah. The Legionaries, +from galleries and gun-stations waving derisive arms, raised shouts +and hurrahs. + +Sweaty, spent, covered with grease and dirt, they cheered with leaping +hearts. + +Another shell, bursting in mid-air not fifty yards away, rocked +_Nissr_, keeled her to port, and for a moment sent her staggering +down. She righted, lifted, again gathered speed. + +More and more wild became the shooting, as she zigzagged, +rose, soared into something like her old-time stride. Behind +her the sea drew back, the baffled destroyer dwindled, the harmless +shots crashed in. + +Ahead of her the desert opened. Uncouth, lame, scarred by flame and +shell, _Nissr_ spread her vast wings and--still the Eagle of the Sky, +undaunted and unbeaten--roared into swift flight toward the waiting +mysteries of the vacant abodes. + +Mid-morning found _Nissr_ far from the coast, skimming along at +fifteen hundred feet altitude over the Tarmanant region of the Sahara. +The one shell from the destroyer that had struck her had done no more +than graze the tip of the starboard aileron, inflicting damage of no +material consequence. It could easily be repaired. + +For the present, all danger of any interference from any civilized +power seemed to be at an end. But the world had discovered that +_Nissr_ and her crew had not yet been destroyed, and the Legionaries +felt they must prepare for all eventualities. The stowaway's rash act +was still big with possibilities of the most sinister import. + +"This is probably just a temporary respite," said Bohannan, as he sat +with the Master in the latter's cabin. The windows had been slid +wide open, and the two men, leaning back in easy wicker chairs, were +enjoying the desert panorama each in his own way--Bohannan with a +cigar, the Master with a few leaves of the "flower of paradise." + +Now once more clean and a little rested, they had again assumed +something of their former aspect. "Captain Alden," and as many others +as could be spared from duty, were asleep. The Legion was already +pulling itself together, though in depleted numbers. Discipline had +tautened again. Once more the sunshine of possible success had begun +to slant in through a rift in the lowering clouds of disaster. + +"It's still, perhaps, only a temporary respite," the major was saying. +"Of course, as long as we stay in the Sahara, we're safe enough +from molestation. It's trying to get out--that, and shortage of +petrol--that constitute our problem now." + +"Yes?" asked the chief, noncommittally. He peered out the window at +the vast, indigo horizons of the desert, curving off to northward into +a semicircle of burnished blue. Here, there, the etherial wonder of a +mirage painted the sandy sea. Vast distances opened on all sides; +the sparkling air, brilliant with what seemed a kind of suspended +jewel-dust, made every object visible at an incredible remoteness. The +wonder of that morning sun and desert could not be put in words. + +"Our troubles are merely postponed," the Celt continued, gloomily. +"The damage was done when that infernal destroyer sighted us. Just how +the alarm was given, and what brought the sea-wasp racking her engines +up the coast, we can't tell. But the cat's out of the bag, now, and +we've got to look out for an attack at any moment we try to leave this +region." + +"It's obvious my wireless messages about being wrecked at sea won't +have much weight now," the Master replied, analytically. "They would +have, though, if that slaving-dhow hadn't put in to investigate us. I +have an idea that those _jallahs_ (slavers) must in some way have let +the news out at Bathurst, down in Gambia. That's the nearest British +territory." + +"I wish they'd come within machine-gun fire!" growled the major, +blowing smoke. + +"Still, we've got lots of room to maneuver," the chief continued. +"We're heading due east now," with a glance at the wall-compass and +large-scale chart of Northern Africa. "We're now between Mauretania +and Southern Algeria, bound for Fezzan, the Libyan Desert, and Nubia +on the Red Sea. That is a clear reach of more than three thousand +miles of solid desert." + +"Oh, we're all right, as long as we stay in the desert," Bohannan +affirmed. "But they'll be watching for us, all right, when we try to +leave. It's all British territory to the east of us, from Alexandria +down to Cape Town. If we could only make our crossing of the Nile and +the Red Sea, at night--?" + +"Impossible, Major. That's where we've got to restock petrol. If it +comes to a show-down, crippled as we are, we'll fight! Of course, I +realize that, fast as we fly, the wireless flies faster. We may have +to rely on our neutralizers again--" + +"They're working?" + +"Imperfectly, yes. They'll still help us, in 'civilized warfare.' +And as for what will happen at Mecca, if the Faithful are indiscreet +enough to offer any resistance--" + +"Got something new, have you?" + +"I think it may prove something of a novelty, Major. Time will tell, +if Allah wills. Yes, I think we may have a little surprise for our +friends, the Meccans." + +The two fell silent again, watching the desert panorama roll back +and away, beneath them. Afar, two or three little oases showed +feathery-tufted palms standing up like delicate carvings against the +remote purple spaces or against the tawny, seamed desolation that +burned as with raw colors of fires primeval. Here, there, patches of +stunted tamarisk bushes were visible. A moving line of dust showed +where a distant caravan was plodding eastward over the sparkling +crystals of an ancient salt sea-bottom. A drift of low-hanging +wood-smoke, very far away, betrayed the presence of a camp of the Ahl +Bayt, the People of the Black Tents. + +The buzzer of the Master's phone broke the silence between the two +men, a silence undertoned by the throb and hum of the now effectively +operating engines. + +"Well, what is it?" the Master queried. + +"Promising oasis, _mon capitaine_," came the voice of Leclair from the +upper starboard gallery. "Through my glass I can make out extensive +date-palm groves, pomegranate orchards, and gardens. There must be +plenty of water there. We should take water, eh?" + +"Right!" the Master answered. He got up and turned to Bohannan. + +"Major," commanded he, "have Simonds and a crew of six stand by, in +the lower gallery, to descend in the nacelle. Rrisa is to go. They +will need him, to interpret. Give them a few of the trinkets from that +assortment we brought for barter, and a little of our Arabic money." + +"Yes, sir. But you know only two of the detachable tanks are left." + +"Two will suffice. Have them both lowered, together with the +electric-drive pump. Don't annoy me with petty details. You are in +charge of this job now. Attend to it!" + +He passed into the pilot-house, leaned at the window and with his +glasses inspected the deep green patch, dark as the profoundest sea, +that marked the oasis. A little blind village nestled there, with +mud-brick huts, a watch-tower and a tiny minaret; date-grounds and +fields of corn, melons, and other vegetables spread a green fringe +among the groves. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + +"LABBAYK!" + +As Nissr slowed near the oasis, the frightened Arabs--who had been +at their _ghanda_, or mid-day meal--swarmed into the open. They left +their mutton, _cous-cous_, date-paste, and lentils, their chibouques +with perfumed vapor and their keef-smoking, and manifested extreme +fear by outcries in shrill voices. Under the shadows of the palms, +that stood like sentinels against the blistering sands, they gathered, +with wild cries. + +No fighting-men, these. The glasses disclosed that they were mostly +old men, women, children. Young men were few. The fighters had +probably gone with the caravan, seen a while before. There came a +little ragged firing; but a round of blanks stopped that, and sent the +villagers skurrying back into the shelter of the palms, mimosas, and +jamelon trees. + +_Nissr_ poised at seven hundred and fifty feet and let down tanks, +nacelle, and men. There was no resistance. The local _naib_ came with +trembling, to make salaam. Water was freely granted, from the _sebil_, +or public fountain--an ancient tank with century-deep grooves cut in +its solid stone rim by innumerable camel-hair ropes. The flying men +put down a hose, threw the switch of the electric pump, and in a few +minutes half emptied the fountain. The astonishment of the villagers +passed all bounds. + +"These be men of great magic," said the _naib_, to Rrisa, after the +tanks had been hoisted to _Nissr_, and a dozen sacks of fresh dates +had been purchased for the trinkets plus two _ryals_ (about two +dollars). "Tell me of these 'People of the Books!'" + +"I will tell thee of but one thing, Abu Shawarib," (father of +whiskers) answered Rrisa with pride. "Old Abd el Rahman is our +prisoner in the flying ship above. We are taking him back to Mecca. +All his people of the Beni Harb lie dead far toward the great waters, +on the edge of the desert of the sea. The Great Pearl Star we also +have. That too returneth to the Haram. _Allah isélmak!_" (Thanks be to +Allah!) + +The _naib_ prostrated himself, with joyful cries, and touched lips +and forehead with quivering fingers. All others who heard the +news, did likewise. Fruits, pomegranate, syrup, honey, and _jild el +faras_[1] were brought as offerings of gratitude. The crew ascended to +the air-liner amid wild shouts of praise and jubilation. + +[Footnote 1: Literally "mare's skin." Apricot paste in dried sheets, +cut into convenient sizes. A great dainty among the Arabs.] + +"You see, Leclair?" the Master inquired, as _Nissr_ drew away once +more to eastward, leaving the village in the palms behind. "We hold +power already with the sons of Islam! What will it be when--?" + +"When you attempt to take from them their all, instead of returning to +them what they so eagerly desire to have!" the Frenchman put in. "Let +us hope all for the best, my Captain, but let us keep our powder very +dry!" + +Two days and one night of steady flying over the ocean of sand, with +but an occasional oasis or caravan to break the appalling wastes of +emptiness, brought _Nissr_ to the Valley of the Nile. The river of +hoar antiquity came to view in a quivering heat-haze, far to eastward. +In anticipation of possible attack, _Nissr_ was forced to her best +altitude, of now forty-seven hundred feet, all gun-stations were +manned and the engines were driven to their limit. The hour was +anxious; but the Legion passed the river in safety, just a little +south of the twentieth degree, near the Third Cataract. Bohannan's +gloomy forebodings proved groundless. + +The Red Sea and Arabia were now close at hand. Tension increased. +Rrisa thrilled with a malicious joy. He went to the door of the +captive Sheik, and in flowery Arabic informed him the hour of +reckoning was at last drawing very near. + +"Thou carrion!" he exclaimed. "Soon shalt thou be in the hands of the +Faithful. Soon shall Allah make thy countenance cold, O offspring of a +one-eyed man!" + +Three hours after, the air-liner sighted a dim blue line that marked +the Red Sea. The Master pointed at this, with a strange smile. + +"Once we pass that sea," he commented, "our goal is close. The hour of +great things is almost at hand!" + +"Provided we get some petrol," put in Bohannan. + +"Faith, an open gate, that should have been closed, defeated Napoleon. +A few hundred gallons of gasoline--" + +"The gasoline is already in sight, Major," smiled the chief, his +glasses on the coastline. "That caravan--see there?--comes very +apropos." + +The Legion bore down with a rush on the caravan--a small one, not +above fifty camels, but well laden. The cameleers left off crying +"_Ooosh! Ooosh!_" and beating their spitting beasts with their +_mas'hab_-sticks, and incontinently took to their heels. Rrisa viewed +them with scorn, as he went down in the nacelle with a dozen of the +crew. + +The work of stripping the caravan immediately commenced. In an hour +some five hundred tin cases of petrol had been hoisted aboard. On +the last trip down, the Master sent a packet wrapped in white cloth, +containing a fair money payment for the merchandise. British goods, he +very wisely calculated, could not be commandeered without recompense +The packet was lashed to a camel-goad which was driven into the sand, +and _Nissr_ once more got slowly under way. + +All eyes were now on the barren chalk and sandstone coasts of the Red +Sea, beyond which dimly rose the castellated peaks of Jebel Radhwa. +At an altitude of 2,150 feet the air-liner slid out over the Sea, +the waters of which shone in the mid-afternoon sun with a peculiar +luminosity. Only a few _sambuks_, or native craft, troubled +those historic depths; though, down in the direction of Bab el +Mandeb--familiar land to the Master--a smudge of smoke told of some +steamer beating up toward Suez. + +Leaning from the upper port gallery, the Master with Bohannan, +Leclair, and "Captain Alden," watched the shadow of the giant +air-liner sliding over the tawny sand-bottom. That shadow seemed a +scout going on before them, spying out the way to Arabia and to Mecca, +the Forbidden City. To the white men that shadow was only a shadow. +To Rrisa, who watched it from the lower gallery, it portended ominous +evil. + +"It goes ahead of us, by Allah!" he murmured. "Into the Empty Abodes, +where the sons of Feringistan would penetrate, a shadow goes first! +And that is not good." He whispered a prayer, then added: "For the +others, I care not. But my Master--his life and mine are bound with +the cords of Kismet. And in the shadows I see darkness for all!" + +At 4:27, _Nissr_ passed the eastern shores of the Red Sea. Arabia +itself now lay beneath. There exposed to their eyes, at length lay the +land of mystery and fear. Bare and rock-ribbed, a flayed skeleton of +a terrain, it glowed with wondrous yellow, crimson, and topaz hues. +A haze bounded the south-eastern horizon, where a range of iron hills +jaggedly cut the sky. Mecca was almost at hand. + +The Master entered his cabin and summoned Rrisa. + +"Listen," he commanded. "We are now approaching the Holy City. I am +bringing back the Apostate Sheik and the Great Pearl Star. I am the +preserver of the Star. Thine own people could not keep it. I have +recovered it. Is that not true?" + +"True, _M'almé_, praise to Allah!" + +"It may be that I shall be called on to preserve some other and +still more sacred thing. If so, remember that my salt is still in thy +stomach." + +"Master, I will not forget." Rrisa spoke dutifully, but his eyes +were troubled. His face showed lines of fear, of the struggle already +developing in his soul. + +"Go thou, then! And remember that whatever happens, my judgment tells +me it is best. Raise not a hand of rebellion against me, Rrisa, to +whom thou owest life itself. To thy cabin--go!" + +"But, Master--" + +"_Ru'c'h halla!_" + +The Arab salaamed and departed, with a strange look in his eyes. + +When he was gone, the Master called Bohannan and Leclair, outlined the +next _coup_ in this strange campaign, and assigned crews to them for +the implacable carrying-out of the plan determined on--surely the most +dare-devil, ruthless, and astonishing plan ever conceived by the brain +of a civilized man. + +Hardly had these preparations been made, when the sound of +musketry-fire, below and ahead, drew their attention. From the open +ports of the cabin, peering far down, the three Legionaries witnessed +an extraordinary sight--a thing wholly incongruous in this hoar land +of mystery and romance. + +Skirting a line of low savage hills that ruggedly stretched from +north to south, a gleaming line of metal threaded its way. A train, +southbound for Mecca, had halted on the famous Pilgrims' Railway. +From its windows and doors, white-clad figures were violently +gesticulating. Others were leaping from the train, swarming all about +the carriages. + +An irregular fusillade, harmless as if from pop-guns, was being +directed against the invading Eagle of the Sky. A faint, far outcry +of passionate voices drifted upward in the heat and shimmer of that +Arabian afternoon. The train seemed a veritable hornets' nest into +which a rock had been heaved. + +"Faith, but that's an odd sight," laughed the major. "Where else +in all this world could you get a contrast like that--the desert, a +semibarbarous people, and a railroad?" + +"Nowhere else," put in Leclair. "There is no other road like that, +anywhere in existence. The Damascus-Mecca line is unique; a Moslem +line built by Moslems, for Moslems only Modern mechanism blent with +ancient superstition and savage ferocity that implacably hold to the +very roots of ancient things!" + +"It is the Orient, Lieutenant," added the Master. "And in the Orient, +who can say that any one thing is stranger than anything else? To your +stations, men!" + +They took their leave. The Master entered the pilot-house and assumed +control. As _Nissr_ passed over the extraordinary Hejaz Railway, +indifferent to the mob of frenzied, vituperating pilgrims, the chief +peered far ahead for his first sight of Mecca, the Forbidden. + +He had not long to wait. On the horizon, the hills seemed suddenly to +break away. As the air-liner roared onward, a dim plain appeared, with +here or there a green-blue blur of oasis and with a few faint white +spots that the Master knew were pilgrims' camping-places. + +Down through this plain extended an irregular depression, a kind of +narrow valley, with a few sharply isolated, steep hills on either +hand. + +The Master's eyes gleamed. His jaw set; his hand, on the controls, +tightened till the knuckles whitened. + +"The Valley of Mina!" he exclaimed. "Mount Arafat--and there, beyond, +lies Mecca! _Labbayk! Labbayk!_" + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + + +OVER MECCA + +The descent of the giant air-liner and her crew of masterful +adventurers on the Forbidden City had much the quality of a hawk's +raid on a vast pigeon-cote. As _Nissr_, now with slowed engines loomed +down the Valley of Sacrifice, a perfectly indescribable hurricane of +panic, rage, and hate surged through all the massed thousands who had +come from the farthest ends of Islam to do homage to the holy places +of the Prophet. + +The outraged Moslems, in one fierce burst of passion against the +invading Feringi, began to swarm like ants when the stone covering +their ant-hill is kicked over. From end to end of the valley, a +howling tumult arose. + +On the Darb el Ma'ala, or Medina Road, a caravan bearing the annual +_mahmal_ gift of money, jewels, fine fabrics, and embroidered +coverings for the Ka'aba temple, cut loose with rifles and old +blunderbusses. Dogs began to bark, donkeys to bray, camels to spit and +snarl. The whole procession fell into an anarchy of hate and fear. + +The vast camp of conical white tents in the Valley of Mina spewed out +uncounted thousands of _Hujjaj_ (pilgrims), each instantly transformed +into a blood-lusting fiend. From the Hill of Arafat; from Jannat el +Ma'ale Cemetery; from the dun, bronzed, sun-baked city of a hundred +thousand fanatic souls; from the Haram sanctuary itself where mobs of +pilgrims were crowded round the Ka'aba and the holy Black Stone; +from latticed balcony and courtyard, flat roof, mosque, and minaret, +screams of rage shrilled up into the baked air, quivering under the +intense sapphire of the desert sky. + +Every crowded street of the bowl-shaped city, all converging toward +the Sacred Enclosure of the Haram, every caravanserai and square, +became a mass of howling _ghuzzat_, or fighters for the faith. Mecca +and its environs, outraged as never before in the thousands of years +of its history, instantly armed itself and made ready for a _Jihad_, +or holy war of extermination. + +Where the Ahl Bayt, or People of the Black Tents, had tamely enough +submitted to the invaders, these Ahl Hayt, or People of the Walls, +leaped to arms, eager for death if that could be had in the battle +against the infidel dog--for death, so, meant instant bearing up to +Paradise, to cool fountains and sweet fruits, and to the caresses of +the seventy entrancing houris that each good Moslem has had promised +him by "The Strong Book," Al Koran. + +Every man and boy in all that tremendous multitude spread over many +square miles of rocky, sun-blistered aridity, seized whatever came +first to hand, for the impending war, as the black shadow of _Nissr_ +lagged down toward the city and the Haram. Some snatched rifles, some +pistols; others brandished spears and well-greased _nebut_ clubs, six +feet long and deadly in stout hands. Even camel-sticks and tent-poles +were furiously flung aloft. Pitiful, impotent defiance, no more +effective than the waving of ants' antennae against the foot that +kicks their nest to bits! + +Screams, curses, execrations in a score of tongues mounted in one +frenzied chorus. Swarms of white-robed pilgrims came running in masses +after the drifting shadow, knocking each other down, falling +aver tent-pegs, stampeding pack-animals. The confusion amazed the +Legionaries as they watched all this excitement through their powerful +glasses. + +"It looks," thought the Master, with a smile, "as if our little +surprise-party might be a lively affair. Well, I am ready for it. +'Allah knows best, and time will show!'" + +All over the plain and through the city, myriads of little white +puffs, drifting down-wind, showed the profusion of firing. Now came +the boom of a cannon from the Citadel--an unshotted gun, used only for +calling the Faithful to prayer. Its booming echo across the plain and +up against the naked, reddish-yellow hills, still further whipped the +blood-frenzy of the mad mobs. + +Even the innumerable pigeons, "Allah's announcers,"[1] swirled in +clouds from the arcades, mosques, and minarets surrounding the Haram, +and from the Ka'aba itself, and began winging erratic courses all +about the Forbidden City. Men, birds, and animals alike, all shared +the terror of this unheard-of outrage when--according to ancient +prophesy--the Great Devils of Feringistan should desecrate the holy +places. + +[Footnote 1: So called because of their habit of cooing and bowing. +Moslems fancy they are praying to Allah and making salaam to him.] + +"Slow her!" commanded the Master into the engine-room phone, and began +compensating with the helicopters, as _Nissr_ lagged over the crowded +city. "Shut off--let her drift! Stand by to reverse!" + +Mecca the Unattainable now lay directly beneath, its dun roofs, packed +streets, ivory minarets all open to the heretics' gaze from portholes, +from the forward observation pit and from the lower gallery. As +_Nissr_ eased herself down to about one thousand feet, the plan of +the city became visible as on a map. The radiating streets all started +from the Haram. White mobs were working themselves into frenzy, +trampling the pilgrims' shrouds that had been dipped in the waters of +the well, Zem Zem, and laid out to dry. + +Not even the Master's aplomb could suppress a strange gleam in +his eye, could keep his face from paling a little or his lips from +tightening, as he now beheld the inmost shrine of two hundred and +thirty million human beings. Nor did any of the Legionaries, bold as +they were, look upon it without a strange contraction of the heart. As +for the Apostate Sheik, that old jackal of the desert was crouched +in his place of confinement, with terror clutching at his soul; with +visions of being torn to pieces by furious Sunnite mobs oppressing +him. + +And Rrisa, what of him? Shut into his cabin, with the door locked +against intrusion, he was lying face downward on the metal floor, +praying. For the first time in the world's history, a Moslem's +_kiblah_, or direction of prayer, was directly downward! + +"Reverse!" ordered the Master. Nissr hovered exactly above the Haram +enclosure. "Lower to five hundred feet, then hold her!" + +The air-liner sank slowly, with a hissing of air-intakes into the +vacuum-floats, and hung there, trembling, quivering with the slow +back-revolution of her screws, the swift energy of her helicopters. +The Master put her in charge of Janina, the Serbian ace, and descended +to the lower gallery. + +Here he found the crew assembled by Bohannan and Leclair ready for the +perilous descent they were about to make. + +He leaned over the rail, unmindful of the ragged patter of bullets +from below, and with a judicial eye observed the prospect. His calm +contrasted forcibly with the frenzied surging of the pilgrim mobs +below, a screaming, raging torrent of human passion. + +Clearly he could discern every detail of the city whereof Mohammed +wrote in the second chapter of the Koran: "So we have made you the +center of the nations that you should bear witness to men." He could +see the houses of dark stone, clustering together on the slopes like +swallows' nests, the unpaved streets, the _Mesjid el Haram_, or +sacred square, enclosed by a great wall and a colonnade surmounted by +small white domes. + +At the corners of this colonnade, four tall white minarets towered +toward the sky--minarets from which now a pretty lively rifle-fire +was developing. A number of small buildings were scattered about the +square; but all were dominated by the black impressive cube of the +Ka'aba itself, the _Bayt Ullŕh_, or Allah's house. + +The Master gave an order. Ferrara obeying it, brought from his cabin +a piece of apparatus the Master had but perfected in the last two days +of flight over the Sahara. This the Master took and clamped to the +rail. + +"Captain Alden," said he, "stand by, at the engine-room phone from +this gallery, here, to order any necessary adjustments as weights +are dropped or raised. Keep the ship at constant altitude as well as +position. Major Bohannan and Lieutenant Leclair, are your crews ready +for the descent?" + +"Yes, sir," the major answered. "_Oui, mon capitaine_," replied the +Frenchman. + +"Tools all ready? Machine-guns installed? Yes? Very well. Open the +trap, now, and swing the nacelle by the electric crane and winch. +Right! Steady!" + +The yells of rage and hate from below were all this time increasing in +volume and savagery. Quite a pattering of rifle-bullets had +developed against the metal body of the lower gallery and--harmlessly +glancing--against the fuselage. + +Smiling, the Master once more peered over. He seemed, as indeed he +was, entirely oblivious to any fear. Too deeply had the Oriental +belief of Kismet, of death coming at the appointed hour and no sooner, +penetrated his soul, to leave any place there for the perils of +chance. + +The swarming Haram enclosure presented one of the most extraordinary +spectacles ever witnessed by human eyes. The strangeness of the scene, +witnessed under the declining sun of that desert land, was heightened +by the fact that all these furious Moslems were seen from above. Men +cease to appear human, at that angle. They seem to be only heads, from +which legs and arms flail out grotesquely. + +The Haram appeared to have become a vast pool of brown faces and +agitated white _ihrams_ (pilgrim robes) of weaving brown hands, +of gleaming weapons. This pool, roaring to heaven, showed strange, +violent currents in flow and refluent ebb of hate. + +To descend into that maelstrom of frenzied murder-lust took courage +of the highest order. But neither Bohannan nor the Frenchman had even +paled. Not one of their men showed any hesitancy whatever. + +"Ready, sir," said the major, crisply. "Faith, give the signal and +down we go; and we'll either bring back what we're going after, or +we'll all come back and report ourselves dead!" + +"Just a minute, Major," the Master answered. He had opened a small +door of the box containing the apparatus he had just clamped to the +rail, and had taken out a combination telephone earpiece and receiver. +With this at mouth and ear, he leaned over the rail. His lips moved in +a whisper inaudible even to those in the lower gallery with him. + +An astonishing change, however, swept over the infuriated mob in the +Haram and throughout the radiating streets. One would have thought a +bolt from heaven had struck the Moslems dumb. The angry tumult died; +the vast hush that rose to _Nissr_ was like a blow in the face, +so striking was its contrast with the previous uproar. Most of the +furious gesticulation ceased, also. All those brown-faced fanatics +remained staring upward, silent in a kind of thunder-struck amazement. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + + +EAST AGAINST WEST + +The major, peering down through the trap, swore luridly. Leclair +muttered something to himself, with wrinkled brow. "Captain Alden's" +eyes blinked strangely, through the holes of the mask. The others +stared in frank astonishment. + +"What the devil, sir--?" began the major; but the chief held up +his hand for silence. Again he spoke whisperingly into the strange +apparatus. This time a murmur rose to him; a murmur increasing to a +confused tumult, that in an angry wave of malediction beat up about +Nissr as she hung there with spinning helicopters, over the city. + +The Master smiled as he put up the receiver in the little box and +closed the door with a snap. Regretfully he shook his head. + +"These Arabic gentlemen, _et ál_," he remarked, "don't seem agreeably +disposed to treat with us on a basis of exchanging the Sheik Abd el +Rahman for what we want from them. My few remarks in Arabic, via this +etheric megaphone, seem to have met a rebuff. Every man in the Haram, +the minarets, the arcade, and the radiating streets heard every word I +said, gentlemen, as plainly as if I had spoken directly into his ear. +Yet no sound at all developed here." + + +"The principle is parallel to that of an artillery shell that only +bursts when it strikes, and might be extremely useful in warfare, +if properly developed--as I haven't had time, yet, to develop it. No +matter about that, though. My proposal has been rejected. Peace having +been declined, we have no alternative but to use other, means. +There is positively no way of coming to an agreement with our Moslem +friends, below." + +As if to corroborate his statement, a rifle-bullet whistled through +the open trap and flattened itself against the metal underbody of the +fuselage, over their heads. It fell almost at "Captain Alden's" feet. +She picked it up and pocketed it. + +"My first bit of Arabia," said she. "Worth keeping." + +The firing, below, had now become more general than ever. Shrill cries +rose to Allah for the destruction of these infidel flying dogs. The +Master paid no more heed to them than to the buzzing of so many bees. + +"I think, Major," said he, "we shall have to use one of the two +kappa-ray bombs on these Arabic gentry. It's rather too bad we haven't +more of them, and that the capsules are all gone." + +"Pardon me, my Captain," put in Leclair, "but the +paralysis-vibrations, eh? As you did to me, why not to them?" + +"Impossible. The way we're crippled, now, I haven't the equipment. But +I shall nevertheless be able to show you something, Lieutenant. Major +will you kindly drop one of the kappa-rays?" + +He gestured at two singular-looking objects that stood on the metal +floor of the lower gallery, about six feet from the trap. Cubical +objects they were, some five inches on the edge, each enclosed in what +seemed a tough, black, leather-like substance netted with stout white +cords that were woven together into a handle at the top. + +Strong as Bohannan was, his face grew red, with swollen veins in +forehead and neck, as he tried to lift this small object. Nothing in +the way of any known substance could possibly have weighed so much; +not even solid lead or gold. + +"Faith!" grunted the major. "What the devil? These two little metal +boxes didn't weigh a pound apiece when--ugh!--when we packed 'em in +our bags. How about it, chief?" + +The Master smiled with amusement. + +"They weren't magnetized then, Major," he answered. "Shall I have +someone help you?" + +"No, by God! I'll either lift this thing or die, right here!" the Celt +panted, redder still. But he did not lift the little cube. The best he +could do was to drag it, against mighty resistance, to the edge of the +trap; and with a last, mighty heave, project it into space. + +As it left the trap, _Nissr_ rocked and swayed, showing how great a +weight had been let drop. Down sped the little, netted cube, whirling +in the sunlight. Its speed was almost that of a rifle-ball--so far in +excess of anything that could have been produced by gravitation as to +suggest that some strange, magnetic force was hurling it earthward, +like a metal-filing toward an electro-magnet. It dwindled to nothing, +in a second, and vanished. + +All peered over the rail, eager with anticipation. No explosion +followed, but the most astonishing thing happened. All at once, +without any preliminary disturbance, the ground became white. A +perfect silence fell on the Haram and the city for perhaps half a mile +on all sides of the sacred enclosure Haram and streets, roof-tops, +squares all looked as if suddenly covered with deep snow. + +This whiteness, however, was not snow, but was produced by the +_ihrams_ of the pilgrims now coming wholly to view. + +Instead of gazing down on the heads of the multitude--all bare heads, +as the Prophet commands for pilgrims--the Legionaries now found +themselves looking at their whole bodies. Every pilgrim in sight +had instantaneously fallen to the earth, on the gravel of the Haram, +along the raised walks from the porticoes to the Ka'aba, on the marble +tiling about the Ka'aba itself, even in the farthest visible streets. + +The white-clad figures lay piled on each other in grotesque attitudes +and heaps. Even the stone tank at the north-west side of the Ka'aba, +under the famous Myzab, or Golden Waterspout on the Ka'aba roof, was +heaped full of them; and all round the sacred Zem Zem well they lay in +silent windrows, reaped down by some silent, invisible force. + +In the remote suburbs and out on the plain, the Legionaries' +binoculars could still see a swarming of white figures; but all the +immediate vicinity was now wholly silent, motionless. To and fro the +Master swept his glasses, and nodded with satisfaction. + +"You have now fifteen minutes, men," said he, "before the paralyzing +shock of that silent detonation--that noiseless release of molecular +energies which does not kill nor yet destroy consciousness in the +least--will pass away. So--" + +"You mean to tell me, my Captain, _those pilgrims are still +conscious?_" demanded Leclair, amazed. + +"Perfectly. They will see, hear, and know all you do. I wish them to. +The effect will be salutary, later. But they cannot move or interfere. +All you have to look out for is the incoming swarm of fanatics already +on the move. So there is no time to be lost. Into the nacelle, and +down with you!" + +"But if they try to rush us you can drop the other bomb, can't you?" +demanded the major, as they all clambered into the nacelle. + +The Master smiled, as he laid his hands on top of the basket and +cast his eyes over the equipment there, noting that machine-guns, +pick-axes, crowbars, and all were in position. + +"The idea does you credit, Major," said he. "The fact that the other +bomb would of course completely paralyze you and your men, here, is +naturally quite immaterial. Let us have no more discussion, please. +Only fourteen minutes, thirty seconds now remain before the _Hujjaj_ +will begin to recover their muscular control. You have your work cut +out for you, the next quarter-hour!" + +The Master raised his hand in signal to Grison, at the electric winch +A turn of a lever, and the nacelle rose from the metals of the lower +gallery. It swung over the trap and was steadied there, a moment, by +many hands. The raiding-party leaped in. + +"Lower away!" commanded the chief + +Smoothly the winch released the fine steel cable, with a purring +sound. Down shot the nacelle, steadily, swiftly, with the major, +Leclair, and the others now engaged in the most perilous, dare-devil +undertaking imaginable. + +Down, swiftly down, to raid the _Bayt Ullah_, the sacred Ka'aba, holy +of holies to more than two hundred million Moslem fanatics, each of +whom would with joy have died to keep the hand of the unbelieving +dog from so much as touching that hoar structure or the earth of the +inviolate Haram. + +Down, swiftly down with picks and crowbars. Down, into the midst of +all that paralyzed but still conscious hate, to the very place of the +supremely sacred Black Stone, itself. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + + +THE BATTLE OF THE HARAM + +The raiding-party, beside its two leaders, consisted of Lombardo, +Rennes, Emilio, Wallace, and three others, including Lebon. The +lieutenant's orderly, now having recovered strength, had pleaded so +hard for an opportunity to avenge himself on the hated Moslems that +Leclair had taken him. + +As for Lombardo, he had downright insisted on going. His life, he +knew, was already forfeited to the expedition--by reason of his having +let the stowaway escape--and, this being so, he had begged and been +granted the favor of risking it in this perilous undertaking. + +Such was the party now swiftly dropping toward the Haram where never +yet in the history of the world two English-speaking men had at one +time gathered; where never yet the speech of the heretic had been +heard; where so many intruders had been beheaded or crucified for +having dared profane the ground sacred to Allah and his Prophet. + +To the major, peering over the side of the nacelle, it seemed as +if the Haram--central spot of pilgrimage and fanatic devotion for +one-seventh of the human race--were leaping up to meet him. With +dizzying rapidity the broad square, the grim black Ka'aba, the +prostrate white throngs all sprang up at the basket. Fascinated, the +major watched; his eyes, above all, sought the mysterious Ka'aba. +Excitement thrilled his romantic soul at thought that he was one of +the very first white men in the world ever to behold that strange, +ancient building. + +Clearly he could see the stone slabs cemented with gypsum, the few +stricken pigeons lying there, the cords holding the huge _kiswah_, +or brocaded cloth, covering "Mecca's bride," (the Ka'aba). The Golden +Waterspout was plainly visible, gleaming in the sun--a massive trough +of pure metal, its value quite incalculable. + +Now the Ka'aba was close; now the nacelle slowed, beside it, in the +shadow of its grim blackness. The major got an impression of exceeding +richness from the shrouding veil, which he saw to be a huge silken +fabric, each side like a vast theater curtain of black, with a +two-foot band a little more than half-way up, the whole covered with +verses from the Koran worked in gold. + +The nacelle sank gently on to a heap of motionless pilgrims, canted to +the left, and came to rest. Not a groan, curse, or even a sigh escaped +the desecrated Moslems forever defiled by the touch of the infidels' +accursed machine. + +The effect was horribly uncanny--of all those brown men, open-eyed and +conscious, but perfectly unable to move so much as an eyebrow. Such as +had fallen with their eyes in the direction of the nacelle, could +see what was going on; the others could only judge of this incredible +desecration by what they could hear. The sound of foreign voices, +speaking an unbelievers' tongue in the very shadow of the Ka'aba, must +have been supremely horrible to every Mohammedan there. + +"Out, men, and at it!" the major commanded, as he scrambled from the +nacelle, slid and stumbled over the Moslems, and reached hands for the +tools passed out to him. Leclair followed. Men and tools were swiftly +unloaded, leaving only Wallace and Emilio at their guns, as agreed. + +"Faith, but this is some proposition!" grunted the major, as the seven +men trampled over the prostrate bodies, without any delay whatever to +peer at the Haram or the Ka'aba. + +"The stone's there, men, at the south-east corner! Get busy!" + +No exhortation was necessary. Every man, nerved to the utmost energy +by the extreme urgency of the situation, leaped to work. And a strange +scene began, the strangest in all the history of that unknown city of +mysteries. The little troop of white men in uniform stumbled over the +bodies and faces of their enemies along the Ka'aba, past the little +door about seven feet from the ground, and so, skirting the slanting +white base, two feet high, came to the Hajar el Aswad, or Black Stone, +itself. + +Above, in the burning Arabian sky, the air-liner hovered like a +gigantic bird of prey, her gallery-rails lined with motionless +watchers. The Master observed every move through powerful glasses. +Over his ears a telephone headpiece, which he had slipped on, kept him +in close touch with the men in the nacelle, via the steel cable. This +cable formed a strand between East and West; if any evil chance +should break it, life would end there and then for nine members of the +Legion, brave men all. + +That their time was short, indeed, was proved by the vague, hollow +roar already drifting in from the outskirts of the city, and from +the plain whence, crowding, struggling into the city's narrow ways, a +raging mass of pilgrims was already on the move. A tidal-wave, a sea +of hate, the hundred thousand or more _Hujjaj_ as yet untouched by the +strong magic of the Feringi, were fighting their way toward the Haram. + +The time of respite was measured but by minutes. Each minute, every +second, bore supreme value. + +"There she is, men!" the major shouted, pointing. And on the instant, +driving furiously with pick-axe, he struck the first blow. + +Plainly, about three feet below the bottom of the silken veil and four +feet above the pavement, there indeed they saw the inestimably sacred +stone, which every Moslem believes once formed a part of Paradise and +was given by Allah to the first man. To the Legionaries' excited eyes +it seemed to be an irregular oval, perhaps seven inches in diameter, +with an undulating surface composed of about a dozen smaller stones +joined by cement and worn blackly smooth by millions of touches and +kisses. + +It was surrounded by a border of cement that looked like pitch and +gravel; and the major noted, even as he drove his pick into this +cement, that both the stone and the border were enclosed by a massive +circle of gold with the lower part studded full of silver nails. + +Only these hasty observations, and no more, the Legionaries made as +they fell with furious energy to the task of dislodging the venerable +relic. To all but this labor they were oblivious--to the heat and +stifle of that sun-baked square, the mute staring of the paralyzed +_Hujjaj_, the wafting languor of incenses from the colonnades, the +quiet murmur of waters from the holy well, Zem Zem. + +The scene, which ordinarily would have entranced them and filled them +with awe, now had become as nothing. Every energy, every sense had +centered itself only on this one vital work of extracting the Black +Stone from the Ka'aba wall and of making a swift getaway with it +before the rising murmur of rage, from without the area of paralysis, +should sweep in on them with annihilating passion. + +"Here, Emilio--drive your pick here!" commanded the major, his red +face now dark crimson with heat and excitement as well as with the +intense force wherewith he was wielding his implement. Cement flew +in showers at every stroke, out over the sweating Legionaries and the +prostrate Moslems near the stone. The white men slid and stumbled +on limp bodies, trampled them unheedingly, and of the outstretched +pilgrims made as it were a kind of vantage-post for the attack on the +inmost citadel of Islam. + +"Work quick, Major!" came the Master's voice, seemingly at Bohannan's +elbow. "There's a fearful drove of the rascals coming. You'd better +get that stone out and away in double-quick time!" + +The major replied nothing, but his pick-axe flailed into the cement +with desperate energy. Emilio and others seconded him, while Rennes +and Wallace dug, kneeling, with their crowbars. The blows echoed with +staccato rapidity through the sacred Haram, which now had begun to +fill with the confused roar of the on-coming mobs from the Ma'abidah +suburb and the Plain of Mina, from Jebel Hindi and the Sulaymainyah +quarter. + +"You have about five minutes more," the Master spoke again. "If +necessary, we will open on them with machine-guns, from the ship, but +I'd like to avoid bloodshed if possible. Do the best you can!" + +Bohannan had no breath for answering. Every ounce of energy of all +seven men was being flung into that mad labor. Sweat streamed into +their eyes, half blinding them; they dashed it off, and struck again +and again. The cement crumbled and gave; the heavy gold band commenced +to bend; Rennes got his crowbar into an advantageous leverage and gave +a mighty heave. + +The stone seemed to cry aloud, with a dry, harsh screaming sound +of outraged agony, as it yielded. It was only the sundering of +the mortar, of course; but a chill ran up the major's spine, and +goose-flesh prickled all over him. Furiously the Legionaries worked +the stone back and forth; a shower of mortar fell on the workers' feet +and on the upturned, staring faces of the paralyzed Moslems trampled +by the horrible contamination of heretical boots--perhaps even pigskin +boots!--and then, all at once, the Hajar el Aswad slid from the place +where it had lain uncounted centuries. + +Cursing with frantic excitement, the Legionaries tugged it from the +wall, together with its golden band. Above them the _kiswah_ bellied +outward, swaying in the breeze. No Moslem has ever admitted that the +Ka'aba veil is ever moved by any other thing than the wings of angels. +Those of the Faithful who now beheld that movement, felt the avenging +messengers of Allah were near, indeed; and a thousand unspoken prayers +flamed aloft: + +"Angels of death, Azraël and his host, smite these outcasts of +Feringistan!" + +The prayers seemed more likely of fulfilment from the hands of the +oncoming hordes already streaming into the converging streets to the +Haram. As the stone came clear, into the hands of the invaders, a +dank, chill blast of air blew from the aperture against the white +men's faces. It seemed to issue as from a cavern; and with it came a +low, groaning sound, as of a soul in torment. + +A shadow fell across the Haram; the light of the sun was dulled. The +sudden crack of a rifle-shot snapped from the arcade, and a puff of +rock-dust flew from the corner of the Ka'aba, not two feet from the +major's head. + +"Come on, men!" cried the major. "Away!" + +Some latent mysticism had been stirred in him; some vague, half-sensed +superstition. Nothing more natural than that a cold draught should +have soughed from the pent interior of the temple, or that the +air-liner, slowly turning as she hung above the Haram, should with her +vast planes have for a moment thrown her shadow over the square. But +the Celt's imaginative nature quivered as he gripped the stone. + +"You, quick, on the other end!" he cried to Emilio. "You, Lombardo, +steady her! So! Now--to the nacelle!" + +The rifles were opening a lively fire, already, as the men staggered +over the prostrate Moslems, reached the nacelle and with a grunt and +a heave tumbled the Hajar el Aswad into it. They scrambled after, +falling into the shelter of the basket. + +Into the arcade, at the north-east corner and half-way along the +western side, two furious swarms of white-robed _Hujjaj_ were already +debouching, yelling like fiends, firing as they came. The uproar +swelled rapidly, in a swift-rising tide. The Haram grew all a +confusion of wild-waving arms, streaming robes, running men who +stumbled over the paralyzed forms of their coreligionists. Knives, +spears, scimitars, rifles glinted in the sun. + +The whine and patter of bullets filled the air, punctured the +_kiswah_, slogged against the Ka'aba. Lebon and Rennes, turning loose +the machine-guns, mowed into the white of the pack; but still they +came crowding on and on, frenzied, impervious to fear. + +Up rose the nacelle, as the major wildly shouted into the phone. It +soared some forty feet in air, up past the black silken curtain, then +unaccountably stopped, level with the Ka'aba roof. + +"Up! Up!" yelled Bohannan, frantically. The spud of bullets against +the steel basket tingled the bodies of the men crouching against the +metal-work. + +All at once Dr. Lombardo stood up, pick-axe in hand, fully exposed to +rifle-fire. + +"Down, you blazing idiot!" commanded the major, dragging at him with +hands that shook. The doctor thrust him away, and turned toward the +Ka'aba, the roof of which was not three feet distant. + +"The golden spout--see?" he cried, pointing. "_Dio mio_, what a +treasure!" On to the edge of the nacelle he clambered. + +"Don't be a damn fool, Doctor!" the major shouted; but already +Lombardo had leaped. Pick in hand, he jumped, landing on the flat roof +of the temple. + +Ferocious howls and execrations swelled into a screaming chorus +of hate, of rage. Unmindful, the Italian was already frantically +attacking the Myzab. Blow after blow he rained upon it with the sharp, +cutting edge of the pick, that at every stroke sank deep into the +massive gold, shearing it in deep gashes. + +A perfect hail of rifle-fire riddled the air all about him, but still +he labored with sweat streaming down his face all blackened with dirt +and cement. From _Nissr_, far above, cries and shouts rang down at +him, mingled with the sharp spitting of the machine-guns from the +lower gallery. The guns in the nacelle, too, were chattering; the +Haram filled itself with a wild turmoil; the scene beggared any +attempt at description, there under the blistering ardor of the +Arabian sun. + +All at once Dr. Lombardo inserted the blade of the pick under the +golden spout, pried hard, bent it upward. He stamped it down again +with his boot-heel, dropped the pick and grappled it with both +straining hands. By main force he wrenched it up almost at right +angles. He gave another pull, snapped it short off, dragged it to the +parapet of the Ka'aba, and with a frantic effort swung it, hurled it +into the nacelle. + +Down sank the basket, a little, under this new weight. + +The doctor leaped, jumped short, caught the edge of the basket and +was just pulling himself up when a slug caught him at the base of the +brain. + +His hold relaxed; but the major had him by the wrists. Into the +nacelle he dragged the dying man. + +"For the love o' God, _haul up!_" he shouted. + +The basket leaped aloft, as the winch--that had been jammed by a +trivial accident to the control--took hold of the steel cable. Up +it soared, still pursued by dwindling screams of rage, by now futile +rifle-fire. Before it had reached the trap in the lower gallery, +the main propellers had begun to whicker into swift revolution, all +gleaming in the afternoon sun. The gigantic shadow of the Eagle of the +Sky began to slide athwart the hill-side streets to south-eastward of +the Haram; and so, away. + +Up came the nacelle through the trap. The davit swung it to one side; +the trap was slammed down and bolted. Out of the nacelle tumbled the +major, pale as he had formerly been red, his face all drawn with grief +and pain. + +"The damned Moslem swine!" he panted. "Faith, but they--they've killed +him!" He flung a passionate hand at the basket, in which, prone across +the golden spout, the still body of Lombardo was lying. "They've +killed as brave a man--" + +"We all saw what he did, Major," the chief said quietly. "Dr. Lombardo +owed us all a debt, and he has paid it. This is Kismet! Control +yourself, Major. The price of such brave adventure--is often death." + +They lifted out the limp form, and carried it away to the cabin Dr. +Lombardo had occupied, there to wait some opportune time for burial +in the desert. Mecca, in the meanwhile, was already fading away to +north-westward. The heat-shimmer of that baked land of bare-ribbed +rock and naked, igneous hills had already begun to blur its outlines. +The white minarets round the Haram still with delicate tracery as of +carved ivory stood up against the sky; but of the out-raged people, +the colonnades, the despoiled and violated Ka'aba, nothing could any +more be seen. + +Southward by eastward sped _Nissr_; and with her now was departing the +soul of Islam. In her keeping lay three things more sacred than all +else to Mohammedan hearts--Kaukab el Durri, the Great Pearl Star; Ha +jar el As wad, the Black Stone; and Myzab, the Golden Waterspout. + +Awed, silenced, the Legionaries stood there in the lower gallery, +peering into the blood-stained nacelle. Hard-bitten men, all, and used +to the ways and usages of war; yet factors were present in this latest +exploit that sobered and steadied them as never before. + +The Master, still unmoved, merely smiled a peculiar smile as he +commanded: + +"Major, have the stone and the golden spout carried to my cabin. And, +if you please, no remarks!" + +Bohannan picked a few men to fulfil the order. Then he asked and +received permission to retire to the smoke-room, for a pipe and a +quiet half-hour, after having washed the dust and grime of battle +from his hands and face. The major's Celtic nerves needed tobacco and +reflection as they had rarely needed them. + +The Master, climbing up the ladder to the main gallery, left Leclair +and a few off-duty men in the lower one. Two or three approached the +French ace, to hold speech with him about the exploit at the Ka'aba, +but he withdrew from them to the extreme rear end of the gallery and +remained for a long time in silent contemplation of the fading city, +the Plain of Mina, and Mount Arafat, beyond. + +As the vague purple haze of late afternoon deepened to veils that +began to hide even the outlines of the mountain, he leaned both elbows +on the rail and in his own language whispered: + +"_Nom de Dieu!_ The Pearl Star--the Golden Waterspout--the sacred +Black Stone!" His face was white with pride and a fire of eagerness +that burned within. "Why, now we're masters of all Islam--masters of +the treasure-houses of the Orient! + +"_Mais--nom de Dieu!_" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + + +THE ORDEAL OF RRISA + +Alone in his cabin with the waterspout of massive gold and with the +sacred Black Stone, the Master sat down in front of the table where +they had been laid, took a few leaves of khat, and with profound +attention began to study the treasures his _bold coup_ had so +successfully delivered into his hands. + +The waterspout, he saw at once, would as a mere object of precious +metal be worth a tremendous sum. It was of raw gold, apparently +unalloyed--as befitted its office of carrying the water from the roof +of the Ka'aba and throwing it upon Ishmael's grave, where pilgrims +have for centuries stood fighting to catch it. Its color verged +on reddish; all its lateral surfaces were carved with elaborate +arabesques and texts from the Koran. The bottom bore an inscription in +Tumar characters, easily decipherable by the Master, stating that it +had been sent from Constantinople in the year of the Hegira 981, by +Shâfey Hanbaly, the Magnificent. + +"A great treasure," pondered the Master. "An almost incalculable +treasure, in itself; but less so, intrinsically, than as an object of +Moslem veneration. In either case, however, enormously valuable." + +He examined it a moment or two longer, noting with care the gashes and +deep cuts made by the frantic strokes of Dr. Lombardo's pick-axe. What +his thoughts might have been regarding the doctor's tragic death, none +could have told. For with a face quite unmoved, he turned now to the +examination of the world-famous Black Stone. + +This object, he saw, possessed no value whatever, _per se_. Aside from +its golden encircling band studded with silver nails, its worth seemed +practically nothing. As it lay on the table before him, he realized +that it was nothing but a common aerolite, with the appearance of +black slag. Its glossy, pitchlike surface, on the end that had been +exposed from the wall, was all worn and polished smooth by innumerable +caresses from Moslem hands and lips. + +"Very hygienic," the Master thought. "If there was ever a finer way +devised for spreading the plague and other Oriental diseases, I can't +very well imagine what it could be!" + +A bit of the stone had been broken off by Leclair's crowbar. The +Master's trained, scientific eye saw, by the brightly sparkling, +grayish section of the break, that iron and nickel formed the chief +elements of the stone. Its dimensions, though its irregular form made +these hard to come by, seemed about two and a half feet in length, by +about seven or eight inches in breadth and thickness. Its weight, as +the Master stood up and lifted it, must have been about two hundred +pounds. No doubt one man could have carried it from its place in the +Ka'aba to the nacelle; but in the excitement of battle, and impeded by +having to stumble over prostrate Moslems, the major had considered it +advisable to ask for help. + +"Mineralogically speaking, this is a meteor or a block of volcanic +basalt," judged the Master. "It seems sprinkled with small crystals, +with rhombs of tile-red feldspath on a dark background like velvet or +charcoal, except for one reddish protuberance of an unknown substance. +A good blow with a hammer would surely break it along the original +lines of fracture--and this is well worth knowing and remembering". + +"Well, so far so good," he concluded. "The Air Control Board hasn't +got us, yet. Neither have the Mohammedans. True, we've lost a number +of men, but that was to have been expected. That's inevitable, and we +still have enough. I hardly see that we have so very much to complain +of, so far." + +He turned, pulled a blanket from his berth and carefully spread it +over the loot on the table. Then he pushed the button communicating +with the cabin wherein Rrisa was still quivering as a result of having +heard the fusillades and the terrific tumult--unseen though they had +been to him--at Mecca. + +In a couple of minutes the faithful orderly appeared, salaamed, and +stood waiting with a drawn, troubled face. + +"_Allah m'a!_" the Master greeted him, in Allah's name inquiring for +his good health. "I have something important to ask thee. Come in. +Come in, and close the door." + +He spoke in Arabic. The orderly, in the same tongue, made answer as he +obeyed: + +"The Master hath but to talk, and it is answered, if my knowledge can +suffice." His words were submissive; but the expression was strange +in his eyes, at sight of the blanket on the table. That blanket might +hide--what might it not hide? The light in his gaze became one the +Master had never yet seen there, not even in the sternest fighting at +Gallipoli. + +"Mecca lieth behind us, Rrisa," the Master began. "Thou hast seen +nothing of it, or of what happened there?" + +"Nothing, _M'almé._ I was bidden remain in my cabin, and the Master's +word is always my law. It is true that I heard sounds of a great +fighting, but I obeyed the Master. I saw nothing. The Sheik Abd el +Hareth, did you deliver him into the hands of the Faithful?" + +"No, Rrisa. They refused to accept him. And now I have other plans +for him. It is well that thou didst see nothing, for it was a mighty +fighting and there was death both to them and to us. Now, my questions +to thee." + +"Yea, Master?" + +"Tell me this thing, first. Is it indeed true speaking, as I have +heard, that the Caliph el Walid the First, in Hegira 88, sent to Mecca +an immense present of gold and silver, forty camel-loads of small cut +gems and a hundred thousand _miskals_ in gold coin?" + +"It is true, Master. Save that he sent more; nearly two hundred +thousand _miskals_. He also sent eighty Coptic and Greek artists to +carve and gild the mosques. + +"One Greek sculptured a hog on the Mosque of Omar, trying to make it +into a _kanisah_ (unclean idol-house). My people discovered the sacrilege, +and"--he added with intent--"gave that Greek the bowstring, then quartered +the body and threw it to the vultures." + +"That is of no importance whatever, Rrisa," answered the Master with +an odd smile. "What thy people do to the unbeliever, if they capture +him, is nothing to me. For--dost thou see?--they must first make the +capture. What I would most like to know is this: where is all that +treasure, now?" + +"I cannot tell you, Master." + +"At Mecca?" + +"No, Master, not at Mecca." + +"Then where?" + +"_M'almé!_ My lips are sealed as the Forbidden Books!" + +"Not against the commands of thy sheik--and I am thy sheik!" + +Rrisa's lips twitched. The inner struggle of his soul reflected itself +in his lean, brown face. At last he aroused himself to make answer: + +"The treasure, Master, is far to the south-east--in another city." + +"Ah! So there _is_ another city far out in Ruba el Khali, the Empty +Abodes!" + +"Yea, _M'almé_, that is so." + +"Then the ancient rumor is true? And it is from near that city that +thou didst come, eh? By Allah's power, I command thee to tell me of +this hidden city of the central deserts!" + +"This thing I cannot do, my sheik." + +"This thing thou must do!" + +"O Master! It is the secret of all secrets! Spare me this!" + +"No Rrisa, thou must obey. Far inside El Hejaz (the barrier), that +city is lying for my eyes to behold. I must know of it. Thy oath to me +cannot be broken. Speak, thou!" + +The Master made no gesture with his hands, did not frown or clench his +fists, but remained impassively calm. His words, however, cut Rrisa +like knives. The orderly remained trembling and sweating, with a +piteous expression. Finally he managed to stammer: + +"_M'almé_, in our tongue we have a proverb: 'There are two things +colder than ice--a young old man and an old young man.' There is still +a colder thing--the soul that betrays the Hidden City!" + +"Speak Rrisa! There is no escape for thee!" + +"My sheik, I obey," quavered the unfortunate orderly, shaken with a +palsy of fear. Without a quiver, the Arab would rush a machine-gun +position or face a bayonet-charge; but this betrayal of his kin struck +at the vitals of his faith. Still, the Master's word was law even +above Al Koran. With trembling lips he made answer: + +"This city--spare me uttering its name, Master!--lies many hours' +journey, even by this Eagle of the Sky, beyond the Iron Mountains that +no man of the Feringi hath ever seen. It lies beyond the Great Sand +Barrier, in a valley of the Inner Mountains; yea, at the very heart of +Ruba el Khali." + +"I hear thee, Rrisa. Speak further. And let thy speaking be truth!" + +"It shall be truth, by the Prophet's beard! What doth the Master ask +of me?" + +"Is it a large city, Rrisa?" + +"Very large." + +"And beautiful?" + +"As the Jebel Radhwa!" (Mountain of Paradise). + +"Thou hast been in that secret city, Rrisa?" + +"Once, Master. The wonderful sight still remaineth in mine eyes." + +"And, seeing the Iron Mountains again, thou couldst guide us thither?" + +"Allah forbid! That is among the black deeds, Master! 'The grave is +darkness and good deeds are its lamps; but for the betrayer, there +shall be no light!' _Wallah, Effendi!_ Do not make me your guide!" + +"I have not said I intended to do so, Rrisa. I merely asked thee +if thou _couldst_!" The Master's voice was silken, fine, penetrant. +"Well, Rrisa, tell me if thou couldst!" + +"Yea, Master. _Ya gharati!_ (O my calamity!) It is true I could." The +words issued from his unwilling throat as if torn out by main force. +"But I earnestly beg of you, my sheik, do not make me do this thing!" + +"Rrisa, if I command, thou must obey me! 'There is only one thing can +ever loose the bonds I have knotted about thee." + +"And that is certainty (death), Master?" + +"That is certainty! But this, to the oath-breaker and the abuser +of the salt, means a place among the _mujrim_ (sinful). It means +Jehannum, and an unhappy couch shall it be!" + +Rrisa's face grew even more drawn and lined. A trembling had possessed +his whole body. + +"Master, I obey!" he made submission, then stood waiting with downcast +eyes of suffering. + +"It is well," said the chief, rising. He stood for a moment peering at +Rrisa, while the hum and roar of the great air-liner's mechanism, the +dip and sway of its vast body through the upper air, seemed to add a +kind of oppressive solemnity to the tense situation. To the cabin +wall the Master turned. There hung a large-scale map of the Arabian +Peninsula. He laid a hand on the vast, blank interior, and nodded for +Rrisa to approach. + +"Listen, thou," said he. "Thy knowledge is sufficient. Thou dost +understand the interpretation of maps, and canst read latitude and +longitude. Mark here the place of the Hidden City!" + +"Of the Bara Jannati Shahr, Master? Ah no, _no_!" + +"So then, that is its name?" the chief demanded, smiling. + +"No, _M'almé_. Thou dost know the Arabic. Thou dost understand this +means only, in thy tongue, the Very Heavenly City." + +"True. Well, let it pass. Very Heavenly City it shall be, till the +real name becomes known. Come now, mark the place of the Hidden City +and mark it truly, or the greatest of sins will lie upon thy soul!" + +The Arab advanced a brown, quivering hand. + +"Give me a pencil, Master, and I obey!" he answered, in a voice hardly +audible. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + + +THE INNER SECRET OF ISLAM + +The chief handed him a pencil. Rrisa intelligently studied the map for +nearly two minutes, then raised his hand and made a dot a few miles +north-east of the intersection of fifty degrees east and twenty +degrees north. The Master's eye was not slow to note that the +designated location formed one point of a perfect equilateral +triangle, the other points of which were Bab el Mandeb on the south +and Mecca on the north. + +"There, _M'almé_," whispered the Arab, in a choking voice. "Now I +have told you the secret of all secrets, and have lost my soul. I have +revealed the inner mystery of Islam, that to this day no man of the +Feringi hath ever known. I am a very great man of sin, and should have +first torn out my tongue. + +"But my life is in your hands, Master, and I have shared your salt. +Allah knows I was forced to speak. _Shal'lah!_ (It is _Allah's_ +will!) Allah will weigh my heart and will forgive, for he is the +Compassionate, the Merciful! I beg you, Master, now let me go!" + +"Soon, Rrisa," the chief answered, turning away from the map. "But +first there is something of highest import I must show thee." + +"And what may that be, my sheik?" the Arab queried, his widening eyes +fixed on the blanket that covered the loot from Mecca. Instinctively +he sensed that some horrible sight was about to be presented to him. +His face paled even more. He licked dry lips with a tongue equally +dry, and leaned against the table to steady himself. "What have you +now to show me, O _M'almé?_" + +"Listen!" the chief commanded sternly. "The Meccans are a people +corrupt and accursed. 'Their hearts are black as their skins are +white.' They live by fleecing the _Hujjaj_, by making sale and barter +of relics, by turning the holy places into marts of trade. All this is +well known throughout Islam. Ah, the degenerate breed of the sons of +the Prophet!" + +"That is true, Master. And what then?" + +"Is it not a fact that they could not even safeguard the Kaukab el +Durri from the hand of the Great Apostate Sheik? How much less, then, +could they protect their other and more sacred things, if some Shiah +dog should come to rob them of the things they value? + +"Would it not be better that such things should be carried far from +danger, to the hidden, inner city? I ask thee this, Rrisa; would it +not be better far?" + +"And what is the meaning of my master's strange words?" ventured +Rrisa, a sort of dazed horror dawning in his eyes. "The other and more +sacred things of Islam--are they there under that cloth, O Master?" + +"Thou hast said it, Rrisa! Now, behold them!" + +With a quick, dramatic gesture, well-calculated to strike at the roots +of the superstitious Arab's nature, he flung away the blanket. To +Rrisa's horrified gaze appeared the Myzab and the sacred Black Stone. + +"_Ya Allah!_" gulped the orderly, in a choking whisper. His face +became a dull gray. His eyes, rimmed with white, stared in terror. His +teeth began to chatter; and on his forehead appeared little glistening +drops. + +"O Master, that is not--." + +"Truly, yea! The Golden Waterspout, Rrisa, and the Black Stone +itself! I am carrying them to the Very Heavenly City, far in the Iron +Mountains! They shall be given to the Great Olema, there, who is more +fit to guard and keep them than the Sheriff of Mecca or than his sons +Feisal and the two Alis. No harm shall befall them, and--" + +"And your hand--the hands of other Feringi who are not my +masters--have touched these things?" stammered Rrisa. "O my calamity! +O my grief!" + +"Thou canst go now, Rrisa," the Master said. "Go, and think well of +what I have told thee, and--" + + +But Rrisa, falling prone to the metal of the cabin floor, facing the +Black Stone, gave vent to his feelings and burst into a wild cry of +"_La Illaha_--" and the rest of the immemorial formula. + +The Master smiled down at him, quizzical and amused yet still more +than a little affected by the terror and devotion of his orderly. +Wise, he waited till Rrisa had made the compulsory prayers of +_Labbayk, Takbir_, and _Tahiti_, as all Moslems must do when coming +near the Black Stone. Then, as the orderly's voice suddenly died away, +he bent and laid a hand on the quivering Arab's shoulder. + +"Come, come, Rrisa," said he, not unkindly. "Be thou not so +distressed. Is it not better that these very precious things be kept +in greater safety at the Jannati Shahr? Come, Rrisa! Arise!" + +The orderly made no move, uttered no sound. The Master dragged him +up, held him, peered into his face that had gone quite ashen under its +brown. + +"Why, Lord! the man has fainted dead away!" exclaimed the Master. He +gathered Rrisa in his powerful arms, carried him to his own cabin and +laid him in the berth, there; then he bathed his face with water and +chafed his hands and throat. + +In a few minutes, Rrisa's eyes vaguely opened. He gulped, gasped, made +shift to speak a few feeble words. + +"Master!" he whispered. + +"Well, what dost thou wish?" + +"One favor, only!" + +"And what is that?" + +"Leave me, a little while. I must be alone, all alone with Allah--to +think!" + +The Master nodded. + +"It shall be as thou wishest," said he. "Think, yes. And understand +that what I do is best for all of Sunnite Islam! As for the Shiah +dogs, what hast thou to trouble about them?" + +Saying no more, he withdrew to his own cabin, wrapped the Myzab and +the Stone in the blanket and laid them carefully under his berth. +Opening his desk-drawer, he assured himself the Pearl Star was still +there. This done, he turned again to the map, carefully studied +the location of the point Rrisa had designated, and--going to the +pilot-house--gave directions for a new course to "Captain Alden," now +at the wheel. + +This course, he calculated by allowing for wind and lateral +drift, would carry _Nissr_ directly toward the site of the still +half-mythical Iron Mountains and the Bara Jannati Shahr. + +He now returned to his cabin, locked himself in and--pondering over +a few khat leaves--passed the remainder of the afternoon sunk in deep +abstraction. + +Evening and night still found him in profound thought, while the giant +air-liner steadily rushed into the south-east, bearing him and the +Legion onward toward dim regions now veiled in purple darkness under +strange stars. + +At nine o'clock he ordered _Nissr_ stopped, and had the body of Dr. +Lombardo sent down with six men in the nacelle, for burial. No purpose +could be served by keeping the body, and all unnecessary complications +had to be dispensed with before the morrow. Lombardo, who had fully +atoned for his fault by having given his life in the service of the +now depleted Legion, was buried in his service-uniform, in a fairly +deep grave on which the Legionaries heaped a great tumulus of sand. +The only witnesses were the Arabian Desert stars; the only requiem +the droning of the helicopters far above, where _Nissr_ hung with her +gleaming lights like other, nearer stars in the dense black sky. + +By ten o'clock, the air-liner had resumed her course, leaving still +another brave man to his last sleep, alone. The routine of travel +settled down again on the ship and its crew of adventurers. + +At half-past eleven, the Master issued from his cabin. All alone, and +speaking with no man, he took a quarter-hour constitutional up and +down the narrow gallery along the side of the fuselage--the gallery +on which his cabin window opened. His face, by the vague light of the +glows in this gallery, looked pale and worn; but a certain gleam of +triumph and proud joy was visible in his dark eyes. + +All about him, stretched night unbroken. Far behind, lay vast +confusions involving hundreds of millions of human beings violently +wrenched from their accustomed routines of faith and prayer, with +potential effects beyond all calculation. Ahead lay--what? + +"It may be glory and power, wealth past reckoning, incredible +splendor," thought the Master, "and it may be ignominy, torture, +death. 'Allah knows best and time will show.' But whatever it may +be--is it completion? The human heart, alone--can that ever be +complete in this world?" + +He bent at the rail, gazing far out into the vague emptiness through +which the air-liner was pushing. + +"Come what may," he murmured, "for tonight, at any rate, it is peace. +'It is peace, till the rising of the dawn!'" + +In a strange mood, still holding no converse with any man, he returned +to the main corridor and went toward his cabin. His way led past the +door of "Captain Alden." There he paused a moment, all alone in the +corridor. The lights in the ceiling showed a strange look in his eyes. +His face softened, as he laid a hand on the metal panels of the door, +silently almost caressingly. + +To himself he whispered: + +"I wonder who she really is? What can her name be--who can she be, +and--and--" + +He checked himself, impatiently: + +"What thoughts are these? What nonsense? Such things are not for me!" + +Silently he returned to his cabin, undressed, switched off the light +and turned into his berth, under which lay the incalculable treasures +of Islam. For a long time he lay there, thinking, wondering, angry +with himself for having seemed to give way for a single moment to +softer thoughts than those of conquest and adventure. + +Gradually the cradling swing, the quivering power of the airship, +lulled his fevered spirit. Sleep won upon him, dulled the excitements +of the past twenty-four hours, sank him into oblivion. His deep, +regular breathing sounded in the gloom of the cabin that contained +the Great Pearl Star, the Myzab, the sacred Black Stone of infinite +veneration. + +An hour he slept. On, on roared _Nissr_, swaying, rising, falling +a little as she hurled herself through the Arabian night toward +the unknown Bara Jannati Shahr, hidden behind the Iron Mountains of +mystery as yet unseen by any unbelieving eye. + +Peace, all seemed peace, for one dark hour. + +But as the hour ended, a shadow fell along the narrow gallery outside +the cabin window. A silent shadow it was, that crept, paused, came on +again. And now in the dark, had there been any eye to see, the shadow +would have been identified as a barefoot man, lithe, alert, moving +silently forward with the soundless stealth of an Arab versed in the +art of _asar_, or man-stalking. + +To the Master's window this shadow crept, a half-invisible thing in +the gloom. It paused there, listening to the deep, regular breathing +within. Then a lean, brown hand was laid on the sill. It still seemed +to hesitate. + +Something gleamed vaguely in that hand--a crooked _jambiyeh_, +needle-sharp at the point, keen-edged and balanced for the stroke that +silently slays. + +Motionless, unbreathing even, the shadow waited a long minute. Then +all at once over the sill it writhed, quick, lithe as a starved +panther. + +Dagger in hand, the shadow slid to the berth where lay the Master of +the Legionaries. There Rrisa paused, listening to the slow respiration +of the White Sheik with whom he had shared the inviolable salt, to +whom he owed life itself. + +Up, in the gloom, came the dagger-blade. + +Over the unconscious Master it poised, keen, cold, avenging in the +dark of the cabin where lay the three supreme treasures of all Islam. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + + +INTO THE VALLEY OF MYSTERY + +The upraised blade, poised for swift murder, did not descend. With a +groan from the heart's core, Rrisa let fall his trembling hand, as +he recoiled toward the vague patch of starlight that marked the cabin +window. + +"_Bismillah_!" he whispered hoarsely. "I cannot! This is my +sheik--'and thrice cursed is the hand that slays the sheik.' I cannot +kill him!" + +For a moment he remained there, pondering. Swift, passionate thoughts +surged through his brain, which burned with fever. In Rrisa's +fighting-blood the supreme battle of his whole existence was +aflame--duty of annihilating the violator of his Faith combating duty +of loyalty absolute to one whose salt he had eaten, to one who had +preserved his life. + +So, in the dark he stood there, a shadow among shadows. He peered +about with white-rimmed eyes, striving to discover where now the Myzab +and the sacred Black Stone might be. The dim bulk of the blanket under +the berth came to his senses. He knelt, touched the blanket, felt the +hard solidity within. + +Torn with anguish of a great conflict, he pondered, smearing the sweat +of agony from his hard-wrinkled forehead. Better was it to fling these +holy things from the cabin window, out into the night? Better the +certainty that the desert sands, far below, would inevitably drift +over them, forever burying them from the sight of his people; or +better the chance that the Master, after all, really intended to +deliver them back into Moslem hands at Bara Jannati Shahr? + +"Allah, oh, guide thy servant now!" the orderly prayed with trembling +lips. "Allah, show thou me the way!" + +The Master, stirring in his sleep, sighed deeply and let his right +hand fall outside the berth. Rrisa, fearful of imminent discovery, +made up his mind with simple directness. He salaamed in silence, all +but brushing the Master's hand with his lips. + +"_Wa'salem!_" (Farewell!) he breathed. Then he got up, turned, laid +his dagger on the table and slid out through the window as soundlessly +as he had come. He crossed the marrow gallery in the gloom, and +mounted the rail beyond which yawned black vacancy. + +For a moment he stayed there, peering down first at the impenetrable +abysses below, then up at the unmoved stars above. The ghostly aura +of light in the gallery showed his face wan, deep-graven with lines, +agonized, ennobled by strong decisions of self-sacrifice. + +"Thou, Allah," he whispered, "dost know life cannot be for both my +Master and thy servant, after what thy servant hath seen. I offer thee +my life for his! Thou wilt judge aright, for thou knowest the hearts +of men and wilt wrong no man by the weight of a grain of sand. Thou +art easy to be reconciled, and merciful! There is no God but Allah, +and M'hámed is his Prophet!" + +With no further word, he leaped. + +Just a fraction of a second, a dim-whirling object plummeted into +space. It vanished. + +As best he understood, Rrisa had solved his problem and had paid his +score. + + +The Master wakened early, with the late May sun already Slanting in +from far, dun and orange desert-levels, gilding the metal walls of his +cabin. For a few moments he lay there, half dreamily listening to +the deep bass hum of the propellers, the slight give and play of +the air-liner as she shuddered under the powerful drive of her +Norcross-Brail engines. + +His thoughts first dwelt a little on yesterday's battle and on the +wondrous treasure now in his hands. Then they touched the approaching +campaign beyond the Iron Mountains in regions never yet seen by any +white man's eye, and for a while enveloped some of the potentialities +of that campaign. + +But "Captain Alden" recurring to his mind, drove away such stern +imaginings. The Master's lips smiled, a little; his black eyes +softened, and for a moment his face assumed something that might +almost have made it akin to those of men who feel the natural passions +of the heart. Never before, in all his stern, hard life, had the +Master's expression been quite as now. + +"Who can she be, I wonder?" he mused. "A woman like that, possessed of +that extraordinary beauty; a woman with education, languages, medical +skill; a woman with courage, loyalty, and devotion beyond compare, +and with all the ardor for service and adventure that any man could +have--who can she be? And--damn it, now! Who am I, to be thinking of +such nonsense, after all?" + +His eyes fell on the table. Something lay there, agleam with the +sunlight flicking blood-red spots from a polished metal surface. What +could this thing be? Surely, it had not lain there, the night before. + +The Master wrinkled heavy brows, focussing his sight on this metal +object. Puzzled, not yet able to make it out clearly, he raised +himself on his elbow and looked with close attention at the mysterious +object. + +Suddenly he leaped from the berth, strode to the table and caught +up--Rrisa's dagger. + +"Allah! What's this?" he exclaimed. "Rrisa--he's been here--and with a +knife?--" + +For a second or two he stood there, staring at the _jambiyeh_ in his +grip. His powerful frame tautened; his thick, corded neck swelled with +the intensity of his emotion as his head went forward, staring. +His jaw set hard. Then with a kind of half-comprehension, he turned +quickly toward the window. + +Yes, there were traces on the sill, that could not be mistaken. The +Master's keen eyes detected them, under the morning sun. He stepped to +his desk, dropped the dagger into a drawer, and pressed the button for +his orderly. + +No one appeared. The Master rang again. Quite in vain. With more +precipitation than was customary with him, he dressed and went to +Rrisa's cabin. + +Its emptiness confirmed his suspicions. Returning along the outer +gallery, a little pale, he reached the railing opposite his own +window. Here a scratch on the metal drew his attention. Closely he +scrutinized this scratch. A hint of whitish metal told the tale--metal +the Master recognized as having been abraded from a ring the Master +himself had given him; a ring of aluminum alloy, fashioned from part +of a Turkish grenade at Gallipoli. + +The Master's face contracted painfully. In his mind he could +reconstitute the scene--Rrisa's hands gripping the rail, his climb +over it, his leap. For a moment the Master stood there with blank +eyes, peering out over the burning, tawny desolation of the great +sand-barrens that stretched away, away, to boundless immensity. + +"Yes, he is surely gone," he whispered. "_Shal'lah! Razi Allahu +anhu!_" (It is Allah's will; may Allah be satisfied with him!) "What +would I not give to have him back!" + +The trilling of his cabin phone startled him to attention. He entered, +took the receiver and heard Leclair's voice from the pilot-house: + +"Clouds on the horizon, my Captain. And I think there is a mountain +range coming in sight. Would you care to look?" + +The Master, very grim and silent, went into the pilot-house. He had +decided to make no mention of what had happened. The suicide must +pass as an accident. He himself must seem to have no knowledge of it. +Morale forbade the admission either of treachery or self-destruction, +for any member of the Legion. + +The sight of vague, pearl-gray clouds on the far south-east horizon, +and of a dim, violet line of peaks notched across the heat-quivering +sky in remotest distances, struck him like a blow in the face. Clouds +must mean moisture; some inner, watered plain wholly foreign to the +general character of the Arabian Peninsula. And the peaks must be the +Iron Mountains that Rrisa had told him about. They seemed to rebuff +him, to be pointing fingers of accusation at him. Had it not been for +his insistence-- + +"But that is all nonsense!" he tried to assure himself, as he took +his binoculars from the rack and sighted at the forbidding, mysterious +range. "Am I responsible for a Moslem's superstitions, or his fanatic +irrationality?" + +The Master's own narrow escape from death disturbed him not at all. +He hardly even thought of it. All he strove for, now, was to exculpate +himself for Rrisa's death. But this he could not do. + +A sense of blood-guiltiness clung about him like a garment--the first +that he had felt on this expedition. His soul, unemotional, practical, +hard, was at last touched and wounded by the realization that Rrisa, +pushed beyond all limits of endurance, had chosen death rather than +inflict it on his sheik. And the thought that the faithful orderly's +body was now lying on the flaming sands, hundreds of miles away--that +it was already a prey to jackals, kites, and buzzards--sickened his +shuddering heart and filled him with remorse. + +"Allah send a storm of sand--_jinnee_ to bury the poor chap, that's +all I can wish now!" he pondered, as he studied the strange yellowish +and orange tints in utmost horizon distances. The air, over the +shimmering peaks, seemed of a different quality from that elsewhere. +To north, to west, the desert rim of the world veiled itself in magic +blue, mysteriously dim. But there, it glowed in golden hues. What, +thought the Master, might be the meaning of all this? + +The Master had no time for speculation. The urgent problem of locating +the Bara Jannati Shahr, beyond that inhospitable sierra, banished +thoughts of all else. He inspected his charts, together with the +air-liner's record of course and position. He slightly corrected the +direction of flight. "Captain Alden" was already in the pilot-house, +with Leclair. The Master summoned Bohannan tersely, and briefly +instructed him: + +"You understand, of course, that we may now be facing perils beyond +any yet encountered. We have already upset all Islam, and changed the +_kiblah_--the direction of prayer--for more than two hundred million +human beings. The 'fronting-place' is now aboard _Nissr_."[1] + +[Footnote 1: So long as the Black Stone was at the Ka'aba, this +building was the only spot in the world where the _kiblah_ was +circular, that is, where Moslems could pray all around it. The +Legion's theft of the stone had completely dislocated all the most +important beliefs and customs of Islam.] + +"The most intense animosity of religious fanaticism will pursue us. +If the news of our exploit has, in any unaccountable way such as +the Arabs know how to employ, reached Jannati Shahr, we are in for a +battle royal. If not, we still have a chance to use diplomacy. A few +hours now will determine the issue. + +"We are approaching what will probably be the final goal of this +expedition; a city beyond unknown mountains; a city that no white man +has ever yet seen and that few have even heard of. What the conditions +will be there no one can tell; but--" + +"Not even Rrisa?" put in the major. "Faith, now's the time, if ever, +to consult that lad!" + +"Correct, for once," assented the Master. With purpose to deceive, +he phoned for Rrisa. No answer coming, he got Simonds on the wire and +ordered him to find the orderly. The investigation thus started would, +he knew, soon bring out the fact of the orderly's disappearance. This +line of action fairly started, he went on formulating his plans: + +"Major, look well to your guns. For once you may have a chance to use +them. I have put my various pieces of apparatus in good condition, +and have improvised some new features. In addition, we have the second +kappa-bomb." + +"But I trust we shall not be driven to a fight. If diplomacy can win, +there will be no bloodshed. Otherwise, our only limit will be the +total destruction of these unknown people, or our own annihilation. +It's a case, now, of win what we are after, or end everything right +there, beyond those mountains!" + +He ascended to the upper port gallery, and concentrated himself on +observation. A certain change in the desert was becoming noticeable, +as the air-liner flung herself at high speed into the south-east. At +times there must be a little rainfall here, or else some hidden source +of water, for a scrub, of dwarf acacia, of camel-grass, and tamarisk +had begun to show. + +But as the black, naked mountains drew near, this gave place to flats +white with salt, to jagged upcroppings of dull, yellowish rock--how +little they then suspected its true nature!--and to detached cliffs +sharp as a wolf's teeth, with strata of greenish schist. + +It was at 9:30 a.m. of May 28, that _Nissr_ tilted her planes and +soared abruptly over the first crags of the Iron Mountains. At a +height of forty-five hundred feet she sped above them, the heat of +their sun-baked blackness radiating up against her wings and body. No +more terrible desolation could be imagined than this rock fortress, +split with chasms and unsounded gorges, where here and there more of +the yellow outcrops showed. No life appeared, not even vultures. For +more than an hour, _Nissr's_ shadow leaped across this utter solitude +of death. + +The Master summoned Leclair, Bohannan, and "Captain Alden," and for +some time gave them careful instructions which none but they were +allowed to hear. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + + +JOURNEY'S END + +All this time, the strange, yellowish sheen against the heavens was +increasing. What might lie beyond the mountains--who could tell? But +that its nature was wholly different from anything any white man ever +had beheld seemed obvious. + +Quite suddenly, at 10:05, the Master's binoculars detected a break far +to southward, in the craggy wall of rock. He ordered _Nissr's_ beak +turned directly thither. Swiftly the Eagle of the Sky held her course, +speeding like an arrow. And now a vast, open plain was seen to be +spreading away, away to indeterminable distances; a plain the further +limits of which veiled themselves in bister and dull ocher vapors. + +The aureate shimmer on the sky kept steadily increasing, from a point +somewhat to the left of _Nissr's_ line of flight. What this might be, +none could guess. None save the Master. More agitated than any had +ever seen him, he stood there at the rail, lips tight, hands clutching +the binoculars at his eyes. + +"By Allah!" the major heard him mutter. "It can't be true--the thing +I've heard. Only a fable, surely! And yet--" + +Now the vast plain was coming clearly to view. It appeared fully +under cultivation with patches of greenery that denoted gardens, +palm-groves, fruit-orchards; all signs of a well-watered region here +at the center of the world's most appalling desert. + +This in itself was a thing of astonishment. But it faded to +insignificance as all at once a far, dazzling sheen burst on the +watchers. Up against the sky a wondrous, yellow blaze seemed to be +burning. Enormously far away as it still was, it filled the heart +of every observer with a strange, quick thrill of wonder, of hope. +Something of wild exultation seemed to leap through the Legionaries' +veins, at sight of that strange fire. + +Leclair glanced at the Master. The dark, taciturn man, for all his +self-control, had set teeth into his lip till the blood was all but +starting. + +On, on swooped _Nissr._ Now the plain was widening. Now, off at the +left, behind the shimmer of the wondrous sight that seemed a fantastic +city of dreams, long black cliffs had become visible--surely some spur +of the Iron Mountains, making to southward at the eastern edge of the +plain. This line of crags faded, in remote distance, into the brown +vapors that ringed the mystic horizon. + +"The city?" asked Bohannan. "That--can't be the city, can it, now? +Faith, if it _is_, we're too late. Damn me, sir, but the whole +infernal place is on fire! Just our rotten luck, eh?" + +The Master made no reply. As if he would devour the place with his +eyes, he was leaning over the rail, boring through those powerful +glasses at the dazzle and bright sheen of the wonder-city now every +moment becoming more clearly visible. + +That it was in truth a city could no longer be doubted. Long walls +came to view, pierced by gates with fantastic arches. Domes rose to +heaven. Delicate minarets, carved into a fretwork of amazing fineness, +pointed their fingers at the yellow shimmering sky. The contrast of +that brilliance, with the soft green gardens and feathery palm-groves +before, the grim black cliffs behind, filled the Legionaries with a +kind of silent awe. + +But most wonderful of all was the metallic shimmer of those walls, +domes, minarets, under the high sun of this lost Arabian paradise. So +amazing was the prospect that, as _Nissr_ hurled herself in over +the last ranges of the mountains and shot out across the open plain +itself, only one man found words. + +This man was Leclair. Close beside the Master, he said in Arabic: + +"I too have heard, my Captain. I too know the story of the Bara +Jannati Shahr--but I have always thought it fable. Now, now--." + +"Faith!" interrupted the major, with sudden excitement. He smote the +rail a blow with an agitated fist. "If that doesn't look like gold, +I'm a--." + +"Gold?" burst out the Master, unable longer to control himself. "Of +course it's gold! And we--are the first white men in all the world to +look on it--the Golden City of Jannati Shahr!" + +Stupefaction overcame the Flying Legion. The sight of this perfectly +incredible city, which even yet--despite its obvious character--they +could not believe as reality, for a little while deprived all the +observers of coherent thought. + +Like men in a daze, they stood watching the far-distant mass of walls, +buildings, towers, battlements all agleam with the unmistakable sheen +of pure metal. The human mind, confronted by such a phenomenon, fails +to react, and for a while lies inert, stunned, prostrate. + +"Gold?" stammered the major, and fell to gnawing his mustache, as +he stared at the incredible sight. "By God--gold? Sure, it can't be +_that_!" + +"It not only can be, but is!" the Master answered. "The old legend is +coming true, that's all. Have you no eyes in your head, Major? If that +shine isn't the shine of gold, what is it?" + +"Yes, but the thing's impossible, sir!" cried Bohannan. "Why, man +alive! If that's gold, the whole of Arabia would be here after it! +There'd be caravans, miners, swarms of--" + +"It's obvious you know nothing of Moslem severity or superstition," +the Master interrupted. "There is no Mohammedan beggar, even starving, +who would touch a grain of that metal. Not even if it were given him. +There's not one would carry an ounce away from the Iron Mountains. +This whole region is under the ban of a most terrific _tabu_, that +loads unthinkable curses on any human being who removes a single atom +of any metal from it!" + +"Ah, that's it, eh?" + +"Yes, that's very much it! And what is more, Major, no word of this +ever gets out to the white races--or hardly any. Nothing more than +vague rumors that barely amount to fairy stories. Even though I forced +Rrisa to tell me the location of this city, he wouldn't mention its +being gold, and I knew too much to ask him or try to make him. Why, +he'd have been torn to bits before he'd have betrayed _that_ Inner +Secret. So now you understand!" + +"I see, I see," the major answered, mechanically. It was plain, +however, that his mind had received a shock from which it had not yet +fully recovered. He remained staring and blinking, first chewing at +his mustache and then tugging it with blunt, trembling fingers. Now +and then he shook his head, like a man just waking from a dream and +trying to make himself realize that he is indeed awake. + +The others, some to a greater degree, some to a less, shared the +major's perturbation. A daze, a numb stupefaction had fallen on them. +The Master, however, soon recalled them to activity. Not much time now +remained before _Nissr_ must make her landing on the plain near the +Golden City. None was to be wasted. + +Vigorous orders set the Legionaries to work. The machine-guns were +loaded and fully manned; several pieces of apparatus that the Master +had been perfecting in his cabin were brought into the lower gallery; +everyone was commanded to smarten his personal appearance. The +psychology of the Oriental was such, well the Master knew, that the +impression the Legion should make upon the people of this wonder-city +could not fail to be of the very highest importance. + +The plain over which _Nissr_ was now sweeping, with the black +mountains left far behind, seemed a fairyland of beauty compared with +the desolation of the Central Arabian Desert. + +"This is surely a fitting spot for the exact geometrical center of +Islam," the Master said to Leclair, as they stood looking down. "My +measurements show this secret valley to be that center. Mecca, of +course, has only been a blind, to keep the world from knowing anything +about this, the true heart of the Faith. The Meccans have been +usurping the Black Stone, all these centuries, and these Jannati Shahr +people have submitted because any conflict would have betrayed their +existence to the world. That is my theory. Good, eh?" + +"Excellent!" the lieutenant replied. "There must be millions of +Mohammedans, themselves, who have hardly learned of this valley. +Certainly, very few from the outside world ever have been able to +cross the Empty Abodes, and reach it. + +"These people here evidently represent a far higher culture than +any other Moslems ever known. Who ever saw a finer city--even not +considering its material--or more wonderful cultivation of land?" + +His eyes wandered out over the plain, which lost itself to sight in +the remote south. Roads in various directions, with here and there +a few white dromedaries bearing bright-colored _shugdufs_ (litters), +showed there was travel to some other inhabited spots inside the +forbidding mountain girdle. + +Here, there, herds of antelope and flocks of sheep were grazing on +broad meadows, through which trickled sparkling threads of water, +half glimpsed among feathery-tufted date-palms. Plantations of fig and +pomegranate, lime, apricot, and orange trees, with other fruits not +recognized, slid beneath the giant liner as she slowed her pace. And +broad fields of wheat, barley, tobacco, and sugar-cane showed that the +people of the city had no fear of any lack. + +Birds were here--pelicans, cranes, and water-fowl along the brooks +and gleaming pools; swift little yellow birds with crownlike crests; +doves, falcons, and hawks of unknown species. Here was life abundant, +after the death of the Empty Abodes. Here was rich color; here arose +a softly perfumed air, balmy, incensed as with strange aromatics. Here +was peace--eternal _kayf_--blessed rest--here indeed lay a scene that +gave full explanation of the ancient name "Arabia Felix." + +And at the left, dominating all this beauty, shone and glimmered in +the ardent sun the wondrous Golden City of Jannati Shahr. + +_Nissr_ had already begun to slant to lower levels. Now at no more +than twenty-five hundred feet, with greatly reduced speed, she was +drifting down the valley toward the city, the details of which +were every moment becoming more apparent. Its size, the wondering +Legionaries saw, must be very considerable; it might have contained +three or four hundred thousand inhabitants. Its frontage along the +black mountains could not have been less than two and a half miles; +and, as it seemed to lose itself up a defile in those crags, no way at +present existed of judging its depth. + +The general appearance was that of stern simplicity. A long wall +of gleaming yellow bounded it, from north to south; this wall being +pierced by seven gates, each flanked by minarets. Behind the wall, +terraces arose, with _mesjid_ (temple) domes, innumerable houses, and +some larger buildings of unknown purpose. + +The powerful glasses on _Nissr_ showed fretwork carving everywhere; +but the main outlines of the city, none the less, gave an impression +of almost primitive severity. No touch of modernity affected it. +Everything appeared immensely archaic. + +"The Jerusalem of Solomon's day," thought the Master, "must have +looked like that--barring only that this is solid gold." + +Out from the city, a little less than two-thirds of the way down, +issued a rather considerable stream. It seemed to come from under the +wall fronting the plain. Its course, straight rather than sinuous, +lay toward the south-west, and was marked by long lines of giant +date-palms and pale-stemmed eucalyptus trees, till it lost itself in +brown distances. + +"Faith, but that looks like lotus-eating, all right," said the major, +notching up his cartridge-belt another hole. "That looks like 'A book +of verses underneath the bough,' with Fatima or Lalla Rookh, or the +like, eh?" He drew at a cigarette, and smiled with sweet visionings of +Celtic exuberance. "A golden city! Lord!" + +"You'll do no dallying 'with Amaryllis in the shade,' in _this_ +valley!" the Master flung at him. "Nor any lotus-eating, either. To +your stations, men! Wake up! Forget all about this gold, now--remember +my orders! That's all you've got to do. The gold will take care of +itself, later. For now, there's stern work ahead!" + +The Legionaries assumed their posts, ready for whatever attack might +come. They still moved like men in a trance. Whether they could quite +even realize the true character of Jannati Shahr seemed doubtful. The +Inca's room of gold stunned Pizarro and his men. How much more, then, +must a whole city of gold numb any concrete thought? + +Down, still down sank _Nissr_, now beginning to circle in broad, +descending spirals, seeking where she might land. The roar of the +propellers lessened; and at the same time, the increasing hum of the +helicopters made itself heard, counterbalancing the loss of lifting +power of the planes, yet gradually letting the air-liner sink. Came, +too, a sighing hiss of the air-intakes as the vacuum-floats filled. + +High noon was now at hand. The sun burned, a copper ball, in the very +forehead of a turquoise sky. A light breeze, lazying over the plain, +stirred the fronded tufts of the date-palms' thick plantations. +Beyond a massy grove, stretching for nearly two miles out from +the northernmost gate of the city, a grassy level quite like a +parade-ground invited the liner to rest. + +As she sank still lower, the Master's glass again picked up the city +wall and ran along it. Here, there, white dots were visible; human +figures, surely--the figures of men in snowy burnouses, on the +ramparts of heavy metal. + +The Master smiled, and nodded. + +"My men think they are surprised," he mused. "What will these Jannati +Shahr men think, when I have opened my little box of tricks and shown +them what's inside?" + +He pressed a button on the rail. A bell trilled in the pilot-house; +another in the engine-room. The Norcross-Brails died to inactivity. + +With a last long swoop, an abandonment of all the furious energies +that for so long had been hurling her over burning sand and black +crag, _Nissr_ slanted to the grassy sward. A sudden, furious hissing +burst out beneath her, as the compressed-air valves were thrown and +the air-cushions formed beneath her thousands of spiracles. Then, with +hardly a shudder, easily as a tired gull slips down into the quiet of +a still lagoon, the vast air-liner took earth. + +She slid two hundred yards on her air-cushions, over the close-cropped +turf, slowed, came to rest there fronting the northern gate of Bara +Jannati Shahr. And the shimmer of those golden walls, one mile to east +of her, painted her all a strangely luminous yellow. + +Journey's end, at last! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + +THE GREETING OF WARRIORS + +Without delay, everything was put in complete readiness for whatever +eventualities might develop. If these strange people meant peace and +wanted it, the Legion would give them peace. If war, then by no means +was the Legion to be unprepared. + +The gangplank was put down from the starboard port in the lower +gallery. The helicopters were cut off. Nothing was left running but +one engine, at half-speed, to furnish current for the apparatus the +Master had decided to use in dealing with the Jannati Shahr folk in +case of need--some of this having been evolved on the run from Mecca. + +Four hampers were carried down the gangplank and set on the grass, +about fifty feet ahead of _Nissr's_ huge beak, that towered in air +over the men like an eagle over sparrows. These hampers contained the +chosen apparatus. Wires were attached, and run back to the ship, and +proper connections made at once by Leclair and Menendez, under the +Master's instructions. + +The machine-guns were dismounted and taken "ashore," to borrow a +nautical phrase. These were set up in strategic positions before the +liner, and full supplies of ammunition both blank and ball were served +to them. + +About a quarter of a mile to north of _Nissr's_ position, one of the +small watercourses or irrigating ditches that cut the plain glimmered +through a grove of Sayhani dates.[1] To this ditch the Master sent two +men in search of the largest stone they could find there. When they +returned with a rock some foot in diameter, he ordered it placed +half-way between _Nissr_ and the palm-grove. + +[Footnote 1: Sayhani (the Crier), so called because one of these palms +is fabled to have cried aloud in salutation to Mohammed, when the +Prophet happened to walk beneath it.] + +These preparations made, the Master lined up his Legionaries for +inspection and final instructions. Standing there in military array, +fully armed, they made rather a formidable body of fighters despite +their paucity of numbers. Courage, eagerness, and joy--still +unalloyed by all the fatigues and perils of the long trek after +adventure--showed on every face. Even through the eyeholes of "Captain +Alden's" mask, daring exultation glimmered. + +The dead, left behind, could not now depress the Legionaries' spirits. +To be on solid earth again, in this wonderland with the Golden City +fronting them, quickened every man's pulse. + +What though they were but a handful, ringed round by grim, jagged +mountains, beyond which lay hundreds of leagues of burning sand? What +though an unknown people of great numbers already had begun to stir +in that vast hive of gold? What though all of Islam, which had already +learned of the sacrilege the accursed Feringí had wrought, was +lusting their blood? Nothing of this mattered. It was enough for the +Legionaries that adventure still beckoned onward, ever on! + +The Master, standing there before them, called the roll. We should +listen, by way of knowing just how the Legion was now composed. It +consisted of the following: Adams, "Captain Alden," Bohannan, Bristol, +Brodeur, Cracowicz, Emilio, Enemark, Frazíer, Grison, Janina, Lebon, +Leclair, L'Heureux, Manderson, Menendez, Prisrend, Rennes, Seres, +Simonds, Wallace. All the wounded had recovered sufficiently to be of +some service. The dead were: Travers, who had died on the passage +of the Atlantic; Auchincloss and Gorlitz, burned to death; Kloof, +Daimamoto, Beziers and Sheffield, killed by the Beni Harb; Lombardo, +killed by the Meccans; Rrisa, suicide. + +In addition to these, we must not forget the Sheik Abd el Rahman, +still locked a prisoner in the cabin that for some days had been his +swift-flying prison-cell of torment. + +The Master had just finished checking his roster, when quite without +any preliminary disturbance a crackle of rifle-fire began spattering +from the city. And all at once, out of the gate opposite _Nissr_, +appeared a white-whirling swarm of figures, at the same time that a +green banner, bearing a star and crescent, broke out from the highest +minaret. + +The figures issuing in a dense mass from the gate were horsemen, all; +and they were riding full drive, _ventre ŕ terre_. Out into the +plain they debouched, with robes flying, with a green banner, steel +flashing, and over all, a great and continual volleying of rifle-fire. + +This horde of rushing cavaliers must have numbered between five +and six hundred; and a fine sight they made as the Master got his +binoculars on them. Here, there, a bit of lively color stood out +vividly against the prevailing snowy white of the mass; but for the +most part, horses and men alike came rushing down like a drive of +furious snow across that wondrous green slope between the palm-groves +and the city wall. + +As they drew near, the snapping of burnouses and cherchias in the +wind, the puffs of powder-smoke, the glint of brandished arms grew +clearer; and now, too, the muffled sound of kettle-drums rolled +down-breeze, in booming counterpoint to the sharp staccato of the +rifles. + +Furious as an army of _jinnee_ with wild cries, screams, howls, as +they stood in their stirrups and discharged their weapons toward the +sky, the horsemen of Jannati Shahr drove down upon the little group of +Legionaries. + +The major loosened his revolver in its holster. Others did the same. +At the machine-guns, the gunners settled themselves, waiting the +Master's word of command to mow into the white foam of that insurging +wave--a wave of frantic riders and of lathering Nedj horses, +the thunder of whose hoofs moment by moment welled up into a +heart-breaking chorus of power. + +"Damn it all, sir!" the major exclaimed. "When are you going to rip +into them? They'll be on us, in three minutes--in two! Give 'em Hell, +before it's too late! Stop 'em!" + +Leclair smiled dryly behind his lean hand, as the Master emphatically +shook a head in negation. + +"No, Major," he said. "No machine-guns yet. You and your eternal +machine-guns are sometimes a weariness to the flesh." He raised his +voice, above the tumult of the approaching storm of men and horses. +"I suppose you've never even heard of the _La'ab el Barut_, the +powder-play of the Arabs? They are greeting us with their greatest +display of ceremony--and you talk about machine-guns!" + +He turned, lifted his hand and called to the gunners: + +"No mistakes now, men! No accidents! The first man that pulls a +trigger at these people, I'll shoot down with my own hand!" + +The lieutenant touched the Master's arm. + +"We must give them a return salute, my Captain," he said in Arabic. +"To omit that would be a grave breach of the laws of host and +guest--almost as bad as violating the salt!" + +The Master nodded. + +"That is quite true, Lieutenant," he answered. "Thank you for +reminding me!" + +Once more he turned to the gunners. + +"Load with blanks," he commanded, "and aim at an elevation of +forty-five degrees. Hold your fire till I give the word!" + +"It is well, _Effendi_!" approved the lieutenant, his eyes gleaming +with Gallic enthusiasm. "These are no People of the Black Tents, no +Beni Harb, nor thieving Meccans. These are men of the very ancient, +true Arabic blood--and we must honor them!" + +Already the rushing powder-play was within a few hundred yards. +The roar of hoofs, the smashing volleys of fire, raging of the +kettle-drums, wild-echoing yells of the white company deafened the +Legionaries' ears. + +What a sight that was--archaic chivalry in all the loose-robed flight +and flashing magnificence of rushing pride! Not one, not even the +least imaginative of the Legion, but felt his skin crawl, felt his +blood thrill, with stirrings of old romance at sight of this strange, +exalting spectacle! + +In the van, an ancient horseman with bright colors in his robe was +riding hardest of all, erect in his high-horned saddle, reins held +loose in a master-hand, gold-mounted rifle with enormously long barrel +flourished on high. + +Tall old chief and slim white horse of purest barb breed seemed almost +one creature. Instinctively the Master's service-cap came off, at +sight of him. The lieutenant's did the same. Both men stepped forward, +cap over heart. These two, if no others, understood the soul of +Arabia. + +Suddenly the old Sheik uttered a cry. An instant change came over the +rushing horde. With one final volley, silence fell. The kettle-drums +ceased their booming. Every rider leaned far back in his pearl-inlaid, +jewel-crusted saddle, reining in his horse. + +And in a moment, as innumerable unshod hoofs dug the heavy turf, all +that thundering host--which but a second before had seemed inevitably +bound to trample down the Legion under a hurricane of white-lathered +horses and frenzied, long-robed men--came to a dead halt of silence +and immobility. + +It was as if some magician's wand, touching the crest of an inbreaking +storm-wave, had instantaneously frozen it, white-slavering foam and +all, to motionless rigidity. + +Ahead of all, standing erect and proud in his arabesque stirrups, with +the green banner floating overhead, the chief of this whole marvelous +band was stretching out the hand of salaam. + +"_Fire_!" cried the Master. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + + +BARA MIYAN, HIGH PRIEST + +The crash of six machine-guns clattered into a chattering tumult, +muzzles pointed high over the heads of the Jannati Shahr men. Up into +the still, hot air jetted vicious spurts of flame. + +The Legion's answer lasted but a minute. As the trays of blanks became +empty, the tumult ceased. + +Silence fell, strangely heavy after all that uproar. This silence +lengthened impressively, with the massed horsemen on one side, the +Legionaries on the other. Between them stretched a clear green space +of turf. Behind loomed the vast bulk of _Nissr_, scarred, battle-worn, +but powerful. Away in the distance, the glinting golden walls +shimmered across the plain; and over all the Arabian sun glowed down +as if a-wonder at this scene surpassing strange. + +Forward stepped the Master, with a word to Leclair to follow him but +to stand a little in the rear. The old Sheik dismounted; and followed +by another graybeard, likewise advanced. When the distance was but +about eight feet between them, both halted. Silence continued, broken +only by the dull drone of one engine still running on board the ship, +by the creaking of saddle-leather, the whinny of a barb. + +Lithe, powerful, alert, with his cap held over his heart, the Master +stood there peering from under his thick, dark brows at the aged +Sheik. A lean-faced old man the Sheik was, heavily bearded with white, +his brows snowy, his eyes a hawk's, and the fine aquilinity of his +nose the hallmark of pure Arab blood. + +Hard as iron he looked, gravely observing, unabashed in face of these +white strangers and of this mysterious flying house. The very spirit +of the Arabian sun seemed to have been caught in his gleaming eyes, to +glitter there, to reflect its pride, its ardor. He reminded one of a +falcon, untamed, untamable. And his dress, its colors distinguishing +him from the mass of his followers, still further proclaimed the rank +he occupied. + +His cherchia of jade-green silk was bound with a _ukal_, or fillet +of camel's-hair; his burnous, also silk, showed tenderest shades of +lavender and rose. Under its open folds could be seen a violet jacket +with buttons of filigree ivory. He had handed his gun to the man +behind him, and now was unarmed save for a _gadaymi_, or semicircular +knife, thrust into his silk sash of crimson, with frayed edges. + +A leather bandolier, wonderfully tooled and filled with cartridges, +passed over his right shoulder to his left hip. His feet, high-arched +and fine of line, were naked save for silk-embroidered _babooshes_. + +The Master realized, as he gazed on this extraordinary old man, whose +dignity was such that even the bizarre _mélange_ of colors could not +detract from it, that he was beholding a very different type of Arab +from any he yet had come in contact with. + +The aged Sheik salaamed. The Master returned the salutation, then +covered himself and saluted smartly. In a deep, grave voice the old +man said: + +"_A'hla wasá'halan_!" (Be ye welcome!) + +"_Bikum_!" (I give thee thanks!) replied the Master. + +"In Allah's name, who are ye?" + +"Franks," the Master said, vastly relieved at this unexpected amity. +Strange contrast with the violent hostility heretofore experienced! +What might it mean? What might be hidden beneath this quiet surface? + +Relief and anxiety mingled in the Master's mind. If treachery were +intended, in just this manner would it speak. + +"Men of Feringistan?" asked the aged Sheik. "And what do ye here?" + +"We be fighting-men, all," replied the Master. He had already noted, +with a thrill of admiration, the wondrous purity of the old man's +Arabic. His use of final vowels after the noun, and his rejection of +the pronoun, which apocope in the Arabic verb renders necessary in +the everyday speech of the people, told the Master he was listening +to some archaic, uncorrupted form of the language. Here indeed was +nobility of blood, breed, speech, if anywhere! + +"Fighting-men, all," the Master repeated, while Leclair listened +with keen enjoyment and the Legion stood attentive, with the +white-burnoused horsemen giving ear to every word--astonished, no +doubt, to hear Arabic speech from the lips of an unbeliever. "We have +traveled far, from the Lands of the Books. Is it not meritorious, O +Sheik? Doth not thy Prophet himself say: 'Voyaging is victory, and he +who journeyeth not is both ignorant and blind?"' + +The old man pondered a moment, then fell to stroking his beard. The +act was friendly, and of good portent. He murmured: + +"I see, O Frank, that thou hast read the Strong Book. Thou dost know +our law, even though thou be from Feringistan. What is thy name?" + +"Men know me only as The Master. And thine?" + +"_Bara Miyan_ (The Great Sir), nothing more." + +"Dost thou wish us well?" the Master put a leading question. + +"_Kull'am antum bil khair_!" (May ye be well, every year!) said the +old Sheik. The Master sensed a huge relief. Undoubtedly--hard as this +was to understand, and much as it contradicted Rrisa's prediction--the +attitude of these Jannati Shahr folk was friendly. Unless, indeed, +all this meant ambush. But to look into those grave, deep eyes, to +see that furrowed countenance of noble, straight-forward uprightness, +seemed to negative any such suspicion. + +"We have come to bring ye wondrous gifts," the Master volunteered, +wanting to strike while the iron was hot. + +"That is well," assented Bara Miyan. "But never before have the Franks +come to this center of the Empty Abodes." + +"Even Allah had to say 'Be!' before anything was!" (_i.e._, there must +be a first time for everything). + +This answer, pat from a favorite verse of the Koran, greatly pleased +Bara Miyan. He smiled gravely, and nodded. + +"Allah made all men," he affirmed. "Mayhap the Franks and we be +brothers. Have ye come by way of Mecca?" + +"Yea. And sorry brotherhood did the Mecca men offer us, O Sheik! So, +too, the men of Beni Harb. Together, they slew five of us. But we be +fighting-men, Bara Miyan. We took a great vengeance. All that tribe +of Beni Harb we brushed with the wing of Azraël, save only the Great +Apostate. And from the men of the 'Navel of the World'--Mecca--we +exacted greater tribute than even death!" + +The Master's voice held a quiet menace that by no means escaped Bara +Miyan. Level-eyed, he gazed at the white man. Then he advanced two +paces, and in a low voice demanded: + +"Abd el Rahman still lives?" + +"He lives, Bara Miyan." + +"Where is the Great Apostate?" + +"In our flying house, a prisoner." + +"_Bismillah_! Deliver him unto me, and thy people and mine shall be as +brothers!" + +"First let us share the salt!" + +Speaking, the Master slid his hand into the same pocket that contained +the Great Pearl Star, and took out a small bag of salt. This he +opened, and held out. Bara Miyan likewise felt in a recess of his +many-hued burnous. For a moment he hesitated as if about to bring out +something. But he only shook his head. + +"The salt--not yet, O White Sheik!" said he. + +"We have brought thy people precious gifts," began the Master, again. +Behind him he heard an impatient whisper--the major's voice, quivering +with eagerness: + +"Ask him if this place is really all gold! Faith, if I could only talk +their lingo! Ask him!" + +"I shall place you under arrest, if you interfere again," the Master +retorted, without turning round. + +"What saith the White Sheik?" asked Bara Miyan, hearing the strange +words of a language his ears never before had listened to. + +"Only prayer in my own tongue, Bara Miyan. A prayer that thine and +mine may become _akhawat_"[1] + +[Footnote 1: Friends bound by an oath to an offensive and defensive +alliance.] + +"Deliver unto me Abd el Rahman, and let thine _imams_ (priests) work +stronger magic than mine," said the old Sheik with great deliberation, +"and I will accept thy gifts and we will say: '_Nahnu malihin_!' (We +have eaten salt together!) And I will make thee gifts greater than thy +gifts to me, O White Sheik. Then thou and thine can fly away to thine +own country, and bear witness that there be Arabs who do not love to +slay the Feringi, but count all men as brethren. + +"But if thou wilt not deliver Abd el Rahman to me, or test thy magic +against my magic, then depart now, in peace, before the setting of the +sun. I have spoken!" + +"Take him at his word, my Captain!" murmured Leclair. "We can get no +better terms. Even these are a miracle!" + +"My opinion, exactly," replied the Master, still facing Bara-Miyan, +who had now stepped back a few paces and was flanked by two huge +Arabs, in robes hardly less chromatic, who had silently advanced. + +"I accept," decided the Master. He turned, ordered Enemark and +L'Heureux to fetch out the Apostate, and then remained quietly +waiting. Silence fell on both sides, for a few minutes. The Arabs, +for the most part, remained staring at _Nissr_, to them no doubt the +greatest miracle imaginable. Still, minds trained to believe in +the magic carpet of Sulayman and quite virgin of any knowledge of +machinery, could easily account for the airship's flying by means of +_jinnee_ concealed in its entrails. + +As for the Legionaries, their attention was divided between the +strange white host, still sitting astride those high-necked, +slim-barreled Nedj horses, and the luring glimmer of the golden walls. +In a few minutes, however, all attention on both sides was sharply +drawn by the return of the two Legionaries with the Apostate. + +Without ado, the lean, wild man of the Sahara was led, in wrinkled +burnous, with disheveled hair, wild eyes, and an expression of +helpless despair, to where the Master stood. At sight of the massed +horsemen, the grassy plain--a sight never yet beheld by him--and the +distant golden, glimmering walls, a look of desperation flashed into +his triple-scarred face. + +The whole experience of the past days had been a Jehannum of +incomprehensible terrors. Now that the climax was at hand, strength +nearly deserted him even to stand. But the proud Arab blood in him +flared up again as he was thrust forward, confronting Bara Miyan. His +head snapped up, his eyes glittered like a caged eagle's, the fine, +high nostrils dilated; and there he stood, captive but unbeaten, proud +even in this hour of death. + +Bara Miyan made no great speaking. All he asked was: + +"Art thou, indeed, that Shaytan called Abd el Rahman, the Reviler?" + +The desert Sheik nodded with arrogant admission. + +Bara Miyan turned and clapped his hands. Out from among the horsemen +two gigantic black fellows advanced. Neither one was Arab, though no +doubt they spoke the tongue. Their features were Negroid, of an East +African type. + +The dress they wore distinguished them from all the others. They had +neither _tarboosh_ nor burnous, but simply red fezes; tight sleeveless +shirts of striped stuff, and trousers of Turkish cut. Their feet were +bare. + +Strange enough figures they made, black as coal, muscled like +Hercules, and towering well toward seven feet, with arms and hands in +which the sinews stood out like living welts. Their faces expressed +neither intelligence nor much ferocity. Submission to Bara Miyan's +will marked their whole attitude. + +"Sa'ad," commanded Bara Miyan, "seest thou this dog?" + +"Master, I see," answered one of the gigantic blacks, speaking with a +strange, thick accent. + +"Lead him away, thou and Musa. He was brought us by these _zawwar_ +(visitors). Thy hands and Musa's are strong. Remember, no drop of +blood must be shed in El Barr.[1] But let not the dog see another sun. +I have spoken." + +[Footnote 1: Literally "The Plain." This name, no doubt, originally +applied only to the vast inner space surrounded by the Iron Mountains, +seems to have come to be that of Jannati Shahr itself, when spoken +of by its inhabitants. El Barr is probably the secret name that Rrisa +would not divulge.] + +The gigantic executioner--the strangler--named Sa'ad, seized Abd el +Rahman by the right arm. Musa, his tar-hued companion, gripped him by +the left. Never a word uttered the Apostate as he was led away through +the horsemen. But he gave one backward look, piercing and strange, at +the Master who had thus delivered him to death--a look that, for all +the White Sheik's aplomb, strangely oppressed him. + +Then the horsemen closed about the two Maghrabi, or East Africans, +and about their victim. Abd el Rahman, the Great Apostate, as a living +man, had forever passed from the sight of the Flying Legion. + +His departure, in so abrupt and deadly simple a manner, gave the +Master some highly conflicting thoughts. The fact that no blood was +ever to be shed in this city had reassuring aspects. On the other +hand, how many of these Maghrabi stranglers did Bara Miyan keep as a +standing army? A Praetorian guard of men with gorilla-hands like the +two already seen might, in a close corner, prove more formidable than +men armed with the archaic firearms of the place or with cold steel. + +A sensation of considerable uneasiness crept over the Master as he +pondered the huge strength and docility of these two executioners. +It was only by reflecting that the renegade Sheik would gladly have +murdered the whole Legion, and that now (by a kind of poetic justice) +he had been delivered back into the hands of the Sunnites he had so +long defied and outraged, that the Master could smooth his conscience +for having done this thing. + +The direct, efficient way, however, in which Bara Miyan dealt with one +held as an enemy, urged the Master to press forward the ceremony of +giving and taking salt. + +At all hazards, safeguards against attack must be taken. Once more the +Master addressed Bara Miyan: + +"_Effendi_! Our gifts are great to thee and thine. Great, also, is our +magic. Let thine _imams_ do their magic, and we ours. If the magic +of El Barr exceeds ours, we will depart without exchange of gifts. If +ours exceeds thine, then let the salt be in our stomachs, all for all, +and let the gifts be exchanged! + +"Thy magic against our magic! Say, O Sheik, dost thou dare accept that +challenge?" + +The old man's head came up sharply. His eyes gleamed with intense +pride and confidence. + +"The magic of the unbelievers against that of the People of the +Garment!" (Moslems!) cried he. "_Bismillah_! To the testing of the +magic!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + + +ON, TO THE GOLDEN CITY! + +The Spartan simplicity of the proceedings impressed the Master far +more than any Oriental ceremony could have done. Here was the Olema, +or high priest and chief, of a huge city carved of virgin gold, coming +to meet him on horseback and speaking to him face to face, like a man. + +It was archaic, patriarchal, dramatic in the extreme. No incensed +courts, massed audiences, tapestried walls, trumpeting heralds, +genuflexions, could have conveyed half the sense of free, virile power +that this old Bara Miyan gave as he stood there on the close turf, +under the ardent sun, and with a wave of his slim hand gave the order: + +"The magic! To the testing of the magic!" + +Thoroughly well pleased with progress thus far, the Master turned back +to give final instructions to his men and to examine the apparatus. +This was in perfect condition, all grouped with controls centered in +one switchboard and focussing-apparatus so that Brodeur, in charge, +could instantly execute any command. + +Bara Miyan, clapping his hands again, summoned three horsemen who +dismounted and came to him. By the emerald color of their head-fillets +and jackets, as well as by their tonsure, the Master recognized them +as mystics of the class known as _Sufis._ + +That he was about to face a redoubtable test could not be doubted. +Long experience with Orientals had taught him the profundity of their +legerdemain, practically none of which ever has been fathomed by white +men. The Master realized that all his powers might be tried to the +utmost to match and overcome the demonstration of the Jannati Shahr +folk. + +While Bara Miyan stood talking to the three _Sufis_, the Master was in +a low voice instructing his own men. + +"Everything now depends on the outcome of the approaching contest," +said he. "These people, irrespective of what we show them, will +probably evince no surprise. If we allow any sign or word of +astonishment to escape us, no matter what they do, they will consider +us beaten and we shall lose all. There must be no indication of +surprise, among you. Remain impassive, at all costs!" He turned to +Brodeur, and in French warned him: + +"Remember the signals, now. One mistake on your part may cost my +life--more than that, the lives of all the Legion. Remember!" + +"Count on me, my Captain!" affirmed Brodeur. The masked woman, coming +to the Master's side, said also in French: + +"I have one favor to ask of you!" + +"Well, what?" + +"Your life is worth everything, now. Mine, nothing. Let me subject +myself--" + +He waved her away, and making no answer, turned to the Olema. + +"Hast thou, O Bara Miyan," he asked in a steady voice, "a swordsman +who can with one blow split a man from crown to jaw?" + +"Thou speakest to such a one, White Sheik!" + +"Take, then, a simitar of the keenest, and cut me down!" + +The old man turned, took from the hand of a horseman a long, curved +blade of razor-keenness and with a heavy back. The Master glanced +significantly at Brodeur, who knelt by the switchboard with one +steady hand on a brass lever, the other on the control of a complex +ray-focussing device. + +Toward Bara Miyan the Master advanced across the turf. He came close. +For a moment the two men eyed each other silently. + +"Strike, son of the Prophet!" cried the Master. + +Up whirled the Olema's blade, flickering in the sun. The metallic +_click_ of the brass switch synchronized with that sweep; Brodeur +shifted the reflector by the fraction of a degree. + +Bara Miyan's arm grew rigid, quivered a second, then dropped inert. +From his paralyzed hand the simitar fell to the grass. Brodeur threw +off the ray; and the Master, unsmiling, stooped, picked up the blade +and with a salaam handed it back, hilt-first, to the old man. + +Only with his left hand could Bara Miyan accept it. He spoke no word, +neither did any murmur run through the massed horsemen. But the shadow +of a deep astonishment could not quite veil itself in the profound +caverns of the old man's eyes. + +"Strike again, Bara Miyan," invited the Master. "The other arm, +perhaps, may not have lost its cunning!" + +The Olema shook his head. + +"No, by Allah!" he replied. "I know thy magic can numb the flesh, and +it is a good magic. It is strong. But by the rising of the stars--and +that is a great oath--the bullets of our long rifles can pierce thine +unbelieving body!" + +"Then bring six of thy best riflemen and station them a dozen +paces from me," the Master challenged. "Let them look well to their +cartridges. It is not I who load the guns with bullets made of +soft black-lead, as the _Effendi_ Robert-Houdin did long ago to the +confusion of the Marabouts in Algeria. No, let thy men load their +own rifles. But," and his voice grew mocking, "let their aim be good. +Death is nothing, O Bara Miyan, but clumsy shooting means much pain." + +His tone galled the aged Sheik, despite that impassive exterior. Bara +Miyan beckoned, and with a command brought six riflemen from their +horses. + +"Load well, and shoot me this Frank!" exclaimed the Olema. A fire was +burning in his eyes. + +"_Aywa_!" (Even so!) replied one of the riflemen. "Allah will make it +easy for us!" + +"Have no fear, Bara Miyan," another said. "Not so easily shall El Kisa +(the People of the Garment) be overcome by the Feringi!" + +Tension held Arabs and Legionaries, alike. All remained calm, though +had you watched "Captain Alden," you would have seen her fingers +twisting together till the blood almost started through the skin. + +The Master walked a few paces, turned and faced the squad. + +"Ready, men of Jannati Shahr?" asked he, with a smile. + +"We are ready, Unbeliever!" + +"Then fire!" + +Up came the rifles. Brodeur turned a knurled disk, and from one of the +boxes on the grass a sudden, whining hum arose, like millions of angry +hornets. + +"_Fire_!" repeated the Master. + + +Six rifle-hammers fell with dull clicks. Nothing more. + +The Master smiled in mockery. + +"O Bara Miyan," said he, "let thy men reload and fire again! Perhaps +the sweat of a great anxiety hath wet their powder!" + +"Thou must indeed be _Khalil Allah_" (a friend of Allah), he admitted. +"No doubt thou art a great _caďd_ in thy own country. It is strong +magic, Frank. But now behold what mine _imams_ can do!" + +The riflemen, disgruntled but still, Arab-like, holding their +impassivity, returned to their horses and mounted again. At another +call of Bara Miyan, three _imams_ came from among the horsemen. They +were dressed alike, in brilliant saffron _gandouras_, with embroidered +muslin turbans from under which hung _daliks_, or sacred plaits of +hair; and each carried a plain white cloth in his hand. + +In complete silence they showed the Legionaries both sides of these +cloths, then spread them on the grass. In not more than two minutes, +a slight fluttering became visible. This increased and grew more +agitated. One by one, the _imams_ gathered up the cloths, opened them +and exhibited three bluish-black birds with vivid scarlet crests. + +The Master nodded. + +"It is an old trick," said he, indifferently. "I have seen hawks, +much larger, come from under smaller cloths even in the great _suk_ +(market-place) at Cairo." + +Bara Miyan made no answer. The _imams_ drew knives from their belts of +plaited goat-hide, and without more ado severed the birds' heads. + +This the Legionaries saw with perfect distinctness. The blood on +the feathers was entirely visible. The bodies quivered. Calmly the +_imams_, with reddened hands, now cut wings and legs from the bodies. +They laid these dead fragments on the blood-stained cloths in front of +them. + +"Let every Frank behold!" exclaimed the Olema. The Legionaries drew +near. The _imams_ gathered up the fragments in the cloths. + +"Now," said the Master, "thine _imams_ will toss these cloths in the +air, and three whole birds will fly away. The cloths will fall to +earth, white as snow. Is that not thy magic?" + +Bara Miyan glowered at him with evil eyes. Not yet had his +self-control been lost; but this mocking of the unbeliever had kindled +wrath. The Master, however, wise in the psychology of the Arab, only +laughed. + +"This is very old magic," said he. "It is told of in the second +chapter of Al Koran, entitled 'The Cow;' only when Ibrahim did this +magic he used four birds. Well, Bara Miyan, command thine _imams_ to +do this ancient magic!" + +The sharp click of a switch on the control-board sounded as the imams +picked up the little, red-dripping bundles. Silently they threw these +into the air and--all three dropped back to earth again, just as they +had risen. + +A growl burst, involuntarily, from the Olema's corded throat. The +growl echoed through the massed horsemen. Bara Miyan's hand went to +the butt of his pistol, half glimpsed under his jacket. That hand +fell, numb. + +"Look, O Sheik!" exclaimed the Master, pointing. The Olema turned; +and there on the highest minaret of gold, the green flag had begun +smoldering. As Brodeur adjusted his ray-focusser, the banner of the +Prophet burst into bright flame, and went up in a puff of fire. + +Only by setting teeth into his lip could the Sheik repress a cry. Dark +of face, he turned to the Master. Smiling, the Master asked: + +"Perhaps now, O Bara Miyan, thou wouldst ask thine _imams_ to plant +a date-stone, and make it in a few minutes bear fruit, even as the +Prophet himself did? Try, if thou hast better fortune than with the +birds! But have care not to be led into committing sin, as with these +birds--for remember, thou hast shed blood and life hath not returned +again, and El Barr is sacred from the shedding of blood!" + +His tone was well calculated to make the lesson sink well to the +Olema's heart--a valuable lesson for the Legion's welfare. But the +Olema only replied: + +"The blood of believers is meant. Not of animals--or Franks!" + +"And wilt thou make further trial with me?" demanded the Master. + +"No, by the Prophet! It is enough!" The Master's soul warmed toward +the honesty of this bluff old Arab. "Thy magic is good magic. Give me +thy salt, Frank, and take mine!" + +The Master signaled to Brodeur as he drew forth his bag of salt. He +stretched it out in his open palm; and all at once, bag, hand, and arm +up to the elbow enveloped themselves in a whirling mist and vanished +from sight, even as the Master's whole body had vanished in the cabin +when Leclair had tried to arrest him. + +The Sheik's eyes grew white-rimmed with astonishment. Vaguely he +groped for the Frank's hand, then let his own fall limp. + +"_Allahu akbar!_" he gasped. + +The Master nodded at Brodeur. The droning of the apparatus ceased, and +again the hand became visible. + +"Faith!" the major's voice was heard. "We've landed half a dozen home +runs, and they've never even got to second!" + +"Come, O Bara Miyan!" the Master smiled. "Now we will put away the +things of magic, and talk the words of men. Here is my salt!" + +The Sheik gingerly accepted a pinch, and with much misgiving put it +into his mouth. He produced salt of his own, which the Master tasted. + +"It is done," said the Master. "Now thou and I are _akhawat. Nahnu +malihin._" (We have eaten salt.) + +"But only from this mid-day till noon of the morrow," the Olema +qualified the bond. + +"Even so! Remember, though, that the salt is now in the stomachs of +all thy people, both here and in the city, as it is in the stomachs of +all my men!" + +"I will remember." + +"And now, O Bara Miyan, I will show thee the very great gifts that I +have brought thee!" + +The Olema nodded, in silence. A great dejection held him and his men. +The Master dispatched half a dozen men for the Myzab and the Black +Stone, also for three sticks of a new explosive he had developed on +the run from the Sahara. This explosive, he calculated, was 2.75 times +more powerful than TNT. + +"Men," said he to the remaining Legionaries, "be ready now for +anything. If they show fight, when they realize we have touched the +sacred things of Islam, let them have it to the limit. If the salt +holds them, observe the strictest propriety. + +"Some of us may go into the city. Let no man have any traffic with +wine or women. If we commit no blunder, in less than twenty-four hours +we shall be far away, each of us many times a millionaire. Watch your +step!" + +The six men returned, carrying the blanket that contained the sacred +things. At the Master's command, they laid the heavy bundle on the +grass before the Olema and his beaten men. + +"Behold!" cried the Master. "Gifts without price or calculation! Holy +gifts rescued from unworthy hands, to be delivered into the hands of +True Believers!" + +And with swift gestures he flung back the enveloping folds of the +blanket, as if only he, the Master, could do this thing. Then, as the +Myzab and the Stone appeared, he drew from his pocket the Great Pearl +Star, and laid that also on the cloth, crying in a loud voice: + +"O, Bara Miyan, and people of Jannati Shahr, behold!" + +An hour from that time, the Master and seventeen of the Legionaries +were on their way to the City of Gold. + +The stupefaction of the Arabs, their prostrations, cries, prayers +would delay us far too long, in the telling. But the Oath of the Salt +had held; and now reward seemed very near. + +There could be no doubt, the Master reflected as he and his men +galloped on the horses that had been assigned to them, with the +white-robed and now silent horde, that the reward--in the form of +exchange gifts--would be practically anything the Legionaries might +ask and be able to carry away. + +Treachery was now not greatly to be feared. Even had the salt not +held, fear of the explosive would restrain any hostile move. One stick +of the new compound, exploded at a safe distance by wireless spark, +had utterly demolished the stone which had been brought from the +watercourse. + +The plain statement given Bara Miyan that the Myzab and the Black +Stone must be left on the grass until the Feringi had again flown away +toward their own country, had duly impressed the Arabs. They had seen +two sticks of the explosive laid on the holy objects, and well had +understood that any treachery would result in the annihilation of the +most sacred objects of their faith. + +The Master felt, as well he might, that he absolutely held the whip +hand of the Jannati Shahr people. Elation shone in his face and in the +faces of all. The problem now had simplified itself to just this: +What weight of jewels and of gold could _Nissr_, by jettisoning every +dispensable thing, whatsoever, carry out of El Barr, over the Iron +Mountains and the Arabian Desert, back to the civilization that would +surely make peace with the Legion which would bring such incalculable +wealth? + +Even the Master's level head swam a little, and his cool nerves +tingled, as he sat on his galloping white horse, riding beside the +Olema, with the thunder of the rushing squadrons--Arabs and his own +men--like music of vast power in his ears. + +He did not, however, lose the coldly analytic faculty that weighed +all contingencies. The adventure still was critical; but the scales +of success seemed lowering in favor of the Legion. The feel, in his +breast pocket, of the leather sack containing Kaukab el Durri, which +he had again taken possession of after the magic tests, gave added +encouragement. This, the third gift, was to be delivered only at the +last moment, just before _Nissr_ should roar aloft. + +"I think," reflected the Master, "the Pearl Star is an important +factor. It certainly will put the final seal of success on this +extraordinary bargain." + +While his thoughts were busy with the pros and cons of the +soul-shaking adventure now coming to its climax, his eyes were busy +with the city wall and towers every moment closer, closer still. + +The Master's knowledge of geology gave him the key to the otherwise +inexplicable character of Jannati Shahr. This gold, in incredible +masses, had not been mined and brought hither to be fashioned into a +great city. + +Quite the contrary, it formed part of the cliffs and black mountains +themselves. Some stupendous volcanic upheaval of the remote past had +cleft the mountain wall, and had extruded through the "fault" a huge +"dyke" of virgin metal--to use technical terms. This golden dyke, two +and a half to three miles wide and of undeterminable length and +depth, had merely been formed by strong, cunning hands into walls, +battlements, houses, mosques, and minarets. + +It had been carved out _in situ_, the soft metal being fashioned with +elaborate skill and long patience. Jannati Shahr seemed, on a larger +scale and a vastly more magnificent plan, something like the hidden +rock-city of Petra in the mountains of Edom--a city wholly carved by +the Edomites out of the solid granite, without a single stone having +been laid in mortar. + +Wonderful beyond all words as the early afternoon sun gleamed from +its broad-flung golden terraces and mighty walls--whereon uncounted +thousands of white figures had massed themselves--the "Very Heavenly +City" widened to the Legionaries' gaze. + +On, up the last slope of the grassy plain the rushing horsemen bore. +Into a broad, paved way they thundered, and so up, on, toward the +great gate of virgin gold now waiting to receive them. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + + +INTO THE TREASURE-CITADEL + +Well might those Legionaries who had been left behind to protect Nissr +and the sacred gifts have envied the more fortunate ones now sweeping +into Jannati Shahr. The rear guard, however, formed no less essential +a part of the undertaking than the main body of the Legion. + +This rear guard consisted of Grison, Menendez, Prisrend, Frazier, +and Manderson. Their orders were as follows: If the main body did not +return by midnight, or if sounds of firing were heard from the city, +or again if they received direct orders via the Master's pocket +wireless, they were at once to load the machine-guns on board the +liner. They were to carry Myzab on board, also, and with the wireless +spark detonate the explosive which would reduce the Black Stone to +dust. + +This accomplished, they were to start the engines and, if possible, +make a getaway--which might be feasible for five men. If they +succeeded, they were to wheel over the city and drop the second +kappa-bomb, also all the remaining explosive, by way of punitive +measures. Well-placed hits might wipe out most of the city and, with +it, the population which had broken the Oath of the Salt. + +The main body of the Legion would, of course, also perish in this +_débâcle_ if still alive; but the probability existed that before +Nissr could take the air, all would be dead. + +The program was explicit. All five men of the rear guard fully +understood its every detail and all had sworn to carry it out to the +letter. Their morale remained perfect; their discipline, under the +command of Grison--left alone as they were in the midst of potentially +hostile territory and with overwhelming masses of Mohammedans close +at hand--held them as firmly as did that of the advance guard now +whirling up the wide, paved road to the gleaming gate of Jannati +Shahr. + +This band of hardy adventurers, stout-hearted and armed with +service-revolvers, remained rather closely grouped, with the Arabs +flanking and following them. At their head rode old Bara Miyan with +the Master, who well bestrode his saddle with burnished metal peaks +and stitching of silver thread. After them came the three _imams_, +Major Bohannan, Leclair, and "Captain Alden." + +The "captain's" mask seemed somewhat to impress the Arabs, who +whispered among themselves concerning it. But not one suspected the +sex of this Frank. The "captain" rode as gallantly as any, and with a +firm hand reined her slim, white horse. + +As the on-thundering swarm of horsemen approached the pointed arch, +some sixty feet wide by ninety high, its intaglios and complex +arabesques flashing with millions of sunlit sparkles, a clear, +sustained chant drifted out over city and plain--the cry of some +unseen muezzin, announcing news of great import to Jannati Shahr. Came +an echoing call of trumpets, from far, hidden places in the city; and +kettle-drums boomed with dull reverberation. + +"_Labbayk_, _Allahuma_!" shouted Bara Miyan, announcing with praise +to Allah his entrance into the City of Gold. A long, great shouting +answered him from the massed thousands of white figures on the walls. + +The Master saw innumerable dark faces peering down from snowy +burnouses and haiks. He saw the gleam of steel. Not one of the figures +on the wall was veiled. Not one woman, therefore, had as yet been +permitted to leave the perfumed dimness of the harems, even for this +stupendous event in the city's history. So far as the Master could +judge, Captain Alden, lithely galloping close behind him, was the only +woman visible in all that multitude. + +With a bold clatter of hoofs, now loudly echoed and hurled back by +the walls, the cavalcade burst up to the city like the foam-crest of +a huge, white wave. For a moment, as the Master's horse whirled him in +under the gate, he cast a backward glance at the plain and along the +battlements. + +That glance showed him a small, white-clad band of Arabs trudging +afoot over the green expanse--the men who, dismounting, had given +their horses to the Legionaries. It showed him the pinions of _Nissr_ +gleaming like snow on the velvet plain; showed him, too, the vast +sweep of the city's walls. + +Those walls, no less than a hundred feet high, were cunningly +loopholed for defense. They presented a slightly concave façade to the +plain, and slanted backward at about the angle of the Tower of Pisa. + +Through their aureate glimmer, dazzling in the direct rays of the +sun now well past its meridian, a glimpse of a flashing river +instantaneously impressed itself on the Master's sight, with cascading +rapids among palm-groves, as it foamed from beneath the city walls. +Then all was blotted out by the gleaming side of the stupendous +archway. + +Up into a broad thoroughfare that rose on a steep slant--a +thoroughfare very different from the usual narrow, tortuous alleys of +Arabian cities--the swarm of horsemen swept, with a dull clatter of +hoofs on the soft yellow pavement that gave almost like asphalt. The +utter lack of any ruts well proved that wheeled vehicles were here +unknown. Nothing harder than unshod horses, than goats and sheep, and +the soft pads of camels had ever worn these gleaming ways. + +The brush of a Verestchagin, a Gérôme, a Bida, skilled in the colors +of the Orient, would have been needed to paint even an impressionistic +_coup d'oeil_ of this scene surpassing strange, now opening out before +the Legionaries' eyes. Its elements were golden houses with door and +window-frames of cedar, sandal, and teak; fretwork golden balconies +overhanging streets and gardens where delicate palm-fronds +swayed--balconies whence no doubt kohl-tinted eyes of women were +peering at the strange men in khaki, as henna-dyed fingers pulled +aside silken curtains perfumed with musk and jasmine; mosques and +minarets carven of the precious metal; dim streets, under striped silk +awnings; a world of wonder to the Legion. + +The Master saw, as the cavalcade swept along at unabated swiftness, +glimpses of terraced roofs and cupolas tiled with blue and peacock +hues; open-fronted shops hewn out of the all-present gold and +displaying wares whereof the purchase-price could not be imagined +since gold was everywhere; bazaars heaped with _babooshes_, +_cherchias_, and robes of muslin, wool and silk, with fruits and +flowers, tobacco, spices, sweetmeats, and perfumes, and with strange +merchandise unknown. + +He caught swift vision of a wide _mirbad_, or open court for drying +dates; and then, through a low, golden arch, a camel-yard with a +vast number of kneeling, white dromedaries. And everywhere he saw +innumerable hosts of the people of Jannati Shahr. + +The streets themselves were clear of people as the cavalcade thundered +on and on with many turnings; but every doorway, shop, arch, roof, +terrace, and tower was packed with these silent, white-clad folk, +bronze-faced and motionless, all armed with pistols, rifles, and cold +steel. + +What some poet has called "a joyous fear" thrilled the Legion. No, +not fear, in the sense of timidity, but rather a realization of the +immense perils of this situation, and an up-springing of the heart to +meet those perils, to face and overcome them, and from out their very +maw to snatch rewards beyond all calculation. + +Even the Master himself, tempered in the fires of war's Hell, sensed +this tremendous potentiality of death as the tiny handful of white men +galloped on and on behind Bara Miyan. Here the Legion was, hemmed and +pent by countless hordes of fanatics whom any chance word or look, +construed as a religious insult, might lash to fury. Five men remained +outside. The rest were now as drops of water in a hostile ocean. In +the Master's breast-pocket still lay Kaukab el Durri--and might not +that possession, itself, be enough to start a jihad of extermination? + +Was not the fact of unbelieving dogs now for the first time being in +the Sacred City--was not this, alone, cause for a massacre? What, in +sober reason, stood between the Legion and death? Only two factors: +first, the potential destruction of the Myzab and the Black Stone +in case of treachery; and second, two tiny pinches of salt exchanged +between the Master and old Bara Miyan! + +The situation, calmly reviewed, was one probably never paralleled in +the history of adventure--more like the dream of a hashish-smoking +addict than cold reality. + +Very contending emotions possessed the hearts of the Legionaries, in +different reactions to their diverse temperaments. Only a vast +wonder mirrored itself in some faces, a kind of numb groping after +comprehension, a failure to believe such a thing possible as a city of +pure and solid gold. + +Others showed more critical interest, appreciation of the wonderful +artistic effects of the carven gold in all its architectural +developments under the skilled chisels of the Jannati Shahr folk. + +Still others manifested only greed. The eyes of such, feverishly +devouring walls, cornices, pillars, seemed to say: + +"God! If we only had the smallest of these things, what a fortune that +would mean! What an incredible fortune!" + +Each man, reacting under the overwhelming stimulus of this wonder +city, in his own expression betrayed the heart and soul within him. +And thus, each absorbed in his own thoughts and dreams, silently the +Legionaries pondered as they galloped through the enchanted streets. + +Some fifteen minutes' riding, with no slackening of the pace and +always on an upward grade toward what seemed the central citadel of +Jannati Shahr, brought the party to an inner wall, forty feet high +and pierced by a triple-arched gate surmounted by a minaret of golden +lacery. + +Through the center arch rode Bara Miyan, now reining into a canter. +The _imams_ and the Legionaries followed, and with them about fifty +of the Arabs, of superior rank. The rest drew rein outside, still in +complete silence. + +The lessened cavalcade now found itself in what at first glance seemed +an enchanted garden. Not even a feeling of anxiety caused by the +silent closing of the hugely massive golden gates that, as they +passed through, immediately blocked the triple exit, could divert the +Legionaries' minds from the wondrous park confronting them. + +Date and cocoa-palms with shadowy paths beneath them; clear rills with +bamboo thickets along their banks and with tangles of white myrtle, +red clouds of oleanders that diffused an almond perfume, delicate +hybiscus, and unknown flowers combined to weave a magic woof of +beauty, using the sifted sunlight for gold threads of warp. + +Unseen water-wheels splashed coolly; vivid butterflies flickered +through masses of greenery among the acacia, mimosa, lote and mulberry +trees. And there were color-flashing parrots, too, a-wing and noisy +in the high branches; and apes that swung and chattered; and round the +high, golden walls of the citadel, half visible through the cloud of +green and party-colored foliage, whirls of pigeons, white as snow, +flicked against the gold. + +The Legionaries were hard put to it to obey the Master's order never +to express surprise or admiration. But they kept silence, though their +eyes were busy; and presently through another smaller gate they all +clattered into a _hosh_, or court, facing what obviously must have +been the central citadel of Jannati Shahr. + +Bara Miyan pulled sharply on the red, silver-broidered reins and +cut back the frothing lip of his barb. With a slide almost on its +haunches, along the soft, golden pavement, the horse came to a +quivering stand. All halted. And for a moment, the stamping of the +high-nerved horses' hoofs echoed up along the tall citadel with its +latticed windows and its machicolated parapet a hundred and fifty feet +in air. + +"Well ridden, O Frank! Well ridden by thee and by all thy men +of Feringistan!" exclaimed Bara Miyan, with what seemed real +friendliness, as he sat there on his high saddle, gravely stroking his +beard. "It was a test for thee and thine, to see, by Allah! if the men +of the unbelieving nations be also men like us of Araby! + +"We of the Empty Abodes are 'born on horseback.' But ye, white as the +white hand of Musa (Moses) have houses that, so I have heard, move on +iron roads. And I see now ye have flying houses. Wherefore horses are +not dear to you, as to us. But I see that ye can ride like men. Well +done! _Salaam_!" + +The Master returned a "_Bďkum!_" of thanks. He would have been glad +to wipe his forehead, streaming with sweat; and so, too, would the +others. But pride restrained them. Not for them such weakness as the +use of a handkerchief, in presence of these half-hundred grave-eyed, +silently observing men of Jannati Shahr. + +"Faith, though," the major whispered to "Captain Alden," close behind +him, "of all ways to take a walk, my favorite way _not_ to is on an +Arab horse with a saddle like the Inquisition! Tomorrow, oh, my poor +bones, tomorrow!" + +Bara Miyan was speaking again, while the Master, Leclair, and +his orderly, Lebon--who alone of the Legionaries understood +Arabic--listened closely. + +"Now that we have eaten salt and are _akhawat_ brethren," said he, "we +must break bread together. Let thyself and all thy men partake of food +with us, O Frank! Then we will speak of the present, we shall bestow +on thee. _Bismďllah!_ Dismount, White Sheik, and enter!" + +The Master bowed, and swung himself from his horse. All did the same, +Legionaries and Arabs alike. And for a moment they stood there in the +sunlight before the long colonnade that occupied the lower story +of the citadel; while from beneath that colonnade issued a dozen or +fifteen of the black, muscular Maghrabi men, two of whom--in the +rôle of official stranglers--they had already seen. These powerful +half-savages took the horses away, the hoofs clacking hollowly on the +golden pavement. + +Bara Miyan led the way in under the colonnade, which, though of gold +like all else in this, wonder city, still offered grateful shade. +The perpetual glare of the golden roadways, houses, towers, +balconies--even covered as many were with floating curtains of muslin +or silk--had been trying to eyes and nerves. Infinitely preferable +would stone or wood have been, for dwellings; but as Jannati Shahr +was, so the Legion had to take it. And doubtless long generations of +familiarity with it had made it wholly normal, pleasant, and innocuous +to these super-Arabs. + +The Jannati Shahr men began kicking off their _babooshes_ and sliding +their naked feet into light slippers, rows upon rows of which stood +under the portico. The Master and Leclair quickly put off their +shoes and took slippers; the others followed suit. But not without +unwillingness did the Master make the change. + +"This will put us at a very serious disadvantage," thought he, "in +case it comes to fighting. These people are used to going almost +barefooted. We are not. Still, there's no help for it. But I'd like +infernally well to keep my shoes!" + +All he said was: + +"Remember now, men, no women and no wine! If this city is like the +usual Arab towns, there will be neither in sight. But if not, +and temptations arise, remember my orders! No drop of any kind of +liquor--and no flirtation. I'll deal summarily with any man who +forgets himself. There's everything at stake now, in the next hour or +two. We can't jeopardize it all for any nonsense!" + +The major groaned, inwardly. Thirsts were on his Celtic soul that +longed for dalliance with the Orient; but he well knew that tone of +voice, and sadly resigned himself to abstinence. + +"Keep your revolvers loose in the holsters, men," the Master added, +as Bara Miyan gestured toward the slowly opening entrance of the +citadel--a massive door as all doors seemed in Jannati Shahr; a +door of gold reinforced with huge teak beams. "Watch for any sign +of treachery, but don't shoot until I give the order. Then, shoot to +kill! And whatever you do, stick together. Don't separate, no matter +what the provocation! Now, follow me!" + +A strange feeling of anxiety, almost of fear, had taken hold on the +Master's heart. This fear was not in the least for himself or any +of the men. Hard-bitted adventurers all, they had gone into this +expedition with their eyes open, well knowing that some must +inevitably die before its close. They had gambled at dice with Fate; +and, losing, could have no complaint. + +It was all for "Captain Alden" that the Master's anxiety was now +awakened. Here was a woman, not only exposed to risks of death, but +also of capture by Orientals--and what it might mean to a white woman +to be seized for some hidden harem in Jannati Shahr the Master knew +only too well. He found a moment's pause to speak in a low tone to the +"captain," unheard by any of the others. + +"Remember the mercy-bullet!" said he. "If anything happens and there's +any risk of capture--remember, the last one for yourself!" + +"If the worst comes," she whispered, "we can at least share death +together!" + +He gazed at her a moment, not quite fathoming her words, but with an +inexplicable tightening round the heart. + +"We can at least share death together!" + +Why should those words so powerfully affect him? What were these +uncomprehended, new emotions stirring in his hard soul, tempered by +war and by unnumbered stern adventurings? + +The Master had no skill in self-analysis, to tell him. Leader of +others, himself he did not understand. But as that night aboard Něssr, +when he had laid a hand on the woman's cabin door, something unknown +to him seemed drawing him to her, making her welfare and her life +assume a strange import. + +"Come, O Frank!" Bara Miyan was saying. The Olema's words recalled the +Master to himself with a start. "Such food and drink as we men of El +Barr have, gladly we share with thee and thine!" + +The old man entered the dark doorway of the citadel, noiselessly in +soft sandals. Beside him walked the Master; and, well grouped and +flanked and followed by the Arabs in their white robes--all silent, +grave, watchful--the Legion also entered. + +Behind them once more closed the massive doors, silently. + +The eighteen Legionaries were pent in solid walls of metal, there in +the heart of a vast city of fighting-men whose god was Allah and to +whom all unbelievers were as outcasts and as pariah dogs--anathema. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + + +THE MASTER'S PRICE + +A dim and subtly perfumed corridor opened out before them, its walls +hung with tapestries, between which, by the light of sandal-oil +_mash'als_, or cressets, the glimmer of the dull-gold walls could be +distinguished. + +Pillars rose to the roof, and these were all inlaid with +mother-of-pearl, with fine copper and silver arabesques of amazing +complexity. Every minutest architectural detail had been carved out of +the solid gold dyke that had formed the city; nothing had been added +to fill out any portion. The imagination was staggered at thought of +the infinite skill and labor required for such a task. The creation of +this city of El Barr seemed far beyond the possible; yet here it was, +all the result of the graver's chisel.[1] + +[Footnote 1: If any reader doubts the existence of El Barr, as a city +of gold carved from a single block, on the ground that such a work +would be impossible, I refer him to an account of Petra, in the +_National Geographic Magazine_ for May, 1907. Petra, in all details, +was carved from granite--a monolithic city.] + +Blasé as the Legionaries were and hardened to wonders, the sight of +this corridor and of the vast banquet-hall opening out of it, at the +far end, came near upsetting their aplomb. The major even muttered an +oath or two, under his breath, till Leclair nudged him with a forceful +elbow. + +Not thus must Franks, from Feringistan, show astonishment or +admiration. + +"May the peace be upon thee," all at once exclaimed Bara Miyan, +gesturing for the Master to enter the vast hall. "Peace, until the +rising of the day!" + +"And upon thee, the peace!" the Master answered, with the correct +Arabic formula. They entered, and after them the other Legionaries and +the sub-chiefs of Jannati Shahr. + +The banquet-hall was enormous. The Master's glance estimated it as +about two hundred and fifty feet long by one hundred and seventy-five +wide, with a height from golden floor to flat-arched roof of some one +hundred and twenty-five. Embroidered cloths of camel's-hair and silk +covered the walls. Copper braziers, suspended from the pillars, sent +dim spirals of perfumed smoke aloft into the blue air. + +About sixty feet from the floor, a row of clerestory windows, +unglazed, admitted arrows of sunlight through a golden fretwork; and +these arrows, piercing the incense vapor, checkered intricate patterns +on the enormous, deep-piled Persian rugs of rose, lilac, and misty +blue. + +Tables and chairs, of course, there were none. A _dakkah_, or +platform, in horseshoe shape, at the far end, covered with rugs and +cushions, and with water-jars, large copper fire-pans, coffee-pots of +silver, and _shishahs_ (water-pipes) told where the feast was to be +offered. + +From a side door, as a silken curtain was drawn back, some fifteen +slave-girls entered--whiter than their masters and in tight jackets +and loose, silk trousers. These girls brought copper basins of +rose-water for the Arabs' "lesser ablution" before a meal. Bara Miyan +smiled slightly as he gestured the Legionaries also to wash hands and +faces; but the Master, little relishing the idea of using this same +water after the Arabs, shook his head. + +Not thus slyly could the Olema inflict humiliation on unbelievers. A +hard look crept into the Master's eyes. This covert insult, after the +exchange of salt, boded very ill. + +In silence the Legionaries watched the Arabs dry their hands and +faces on towels given them by the slave-girls, who then noiselessly +withdrew. All the Arabs prostrated themselves and prayed. The Master +was the only one who noticed one significant fact: that now the +_kiblah_, or direction of prayer, was not to the north-west, where lay +Mecca, but--judging by the sun--was almost due west, toward the spot +where lay the Black Stone. This reassured him once more. + +"They recognize the Stone, right enough," thought he. "As long as +nothing happens to that, we hold the whip-hand of them. Our only real +danger is that something _might_ happen to it. But a few hours, now, +will end all this. And in a few hours, what can happen?" + +The Arabs ceased their droning supplications to Allah, which had been +rising with hypnotically soothing murmurs through the incensed air, +and now followed Bara Miyan toward the raised platform. The old Sheik +beckoned his guests. All disposed themselves comfortably among the +cushions. The Legionaries ignored what seemed a disposition on +the part of the Arabs to separate them--to scatter them along the +platform. + +"Keep together, men," the Master commanded. "Group yourselves closely +here, in the middle. Say nothing. Watch everything. Make no move +without specific orders. If it comes to a fight, and I am killed, +Leclair will command you. His knowledge of Arabic temporarily ranks +him above Bohannan. Don't shoot unless it comes to hard necessity; but +if you do shoot, make every bullet count--and save the last one for +yourselves!" + +Bara Miyan clapped his hands. Through two arched doorways, to right +and left, entered a silent file of the huge, half-naked Maghrabi +men. All were unarmed; but the muscles of their heavy shoulders, the +gorilla-like dangle of their steel-fingered hands produced an effect +more ominous even than the gleam of simitars in the dim cressets' +light would have been. + +Along the walls these black barbarians disposed themselves, a full +hundred or more, saying nothing, seeming to see nothing, mere human +automata. Bohannan, seated cross-legged between Captain Alden and the +Master, swore an oath. + +"What are these infernal murderers here for?" growled he. "Ask the +Sheik, will you? I thought you and he had eaten salt together! If this +isn't a trap, it looks too damned much like it to be much of a picnic! +Faith, this is a Hell of a party!" + +"Silence, sir!" commanded the Master; while Leclair, at his other +side, cast a look of anger at the Celt. "Diplomacy requires that we +consider these men as a guard of honor. Pay no attention to them, +anybody! Any sign of hesitation now, or fear, may be suicide. +Remember, we are dealing with Orientals. The 'grand manner' is what +counts with them. I advise every man who has tobacco, to light a +cigarette and look indifferent. _Verb sap!_" + +Most of the Legionaries produced tobacco; but the Olema, smiling, +raised a hand of negation. For already the slave-girls were entering +with trays of cigarettes and silver boxes of tobacco. These they +passed to the visitors, then to the Arabs. Such as preferred +cigarettes, suffered the girls to light them at the copper fire-pans. +Others, choosing a _shishah_, let the girls fill it from the silver +boxes; and soon the grateful vapors of tobacco were rising to blend +with the spiced incense-smoke. + +A more comfortable feeling now possessed the Legionaries. This sharing +of tobacco seemed to establish almost an amicable Free Masonry between +them and the Jannati Shahr men. All sat and smoked in what seemed a +friendly silence. + +The slave-girls silently departed. Others came with huge, silver trays +graven with Koran verses. These trays contained meat-pilafs, swimming +in melted butter; vine leaves filled with chopped mutton; _kababs_, +or bits of roast meat spitted on wooden splinters; crisp cucumbers; a +kind of tasteless bread; a dish that looked like vermicelli sweetened +with honey; thin jelly, and sweetmeats that tasted strongly of +rosewater. Dates, pomegranates, and areca nuts cut up and mixed with +sugar-paste pinned with cloves into a betel leaf--these constituted +the dessert. + +The Arabs ate with strict decorum, according to their custom, +beginning the banquet with a _Bismillah_ of thanks and ending with an +_Al Hamd_ that signified repletion. Knives and forks there were none; +each man dipped his hand into whatever dish pleased him, as the trays +were passed along. The Legionaries did the same. + +"Rather messy, eh?" commented the major; but no one answered him. More +serious thoughts than these possessed the others. + +After ablution, once more--this time the white men shared it--tobacco, +pomegranate syrup, sherbet, water perfumed with _mastich_-smoke, and +thick, black coffee ended the meal. + +The Master requested khat leaves, which were presently brought +him--deliciously green and fresh--in a copper bowl. Then, while the +slave-girls removed all traces of the feast, all relaxed for a few +minutes' _kayf_, or utter peace. + +Utter peace, indeed, it seemed. Nothing more soothing could have been +imagined than the soft wooing of repletion and of silken cushions, +the dim sunlight through the smoke of incense and tobacco, the gentle +bubbling of the water-pipes, the half-heard courting of pigeons +somewhere aloft in the embrasures of the clerestory windows. + +All possibility of warfare seemed to have vanished. Under the magic +spell of this enchanted, golden hall, even the grim Maghrabis, black +and motionless along the tapestried walls, seemed to have sunk to the +role of mere spectators. + +The Arabs' glances, though subtly curious, appeared to hold little +animosity. Now that they had broken bread together, cementing the Oath +of the Salt, might not hospitality have become inviolable? True, some +looks of veiled hostility were directed against "Captain Alden's" +strangely masked face, as the woman sat there cross-legged like the +rest, indifferently smoking cigarettes. For what the Arab cannot +understand is always antipathetic to him. But this hostility was +not marked. The spirits of the Legion, including those of the Master +himself, rose with a sense of greater security. + +Even Bohannan, chronic complainer, forgot to cavil and began to bask +in contentment. + +"Faith, but this is a good imitation of Lotus-land, after all," he +murmured to Janina, at his side. "I wouldn't mind boarding at this +hotel for an indefinite period. Meals excellent; waitresses beat +anything on Broadway; atmosphere very restful to wandering gentlemen. +Now if I could only get acquainted with one of these lovely Fatimas, +and find out where the bar is--the bar of El Barr! Very good! Faith, +very good indeed!" + +He laughed at his own witticism and blew perfumed smoke toward the +dim, golden roof. But now his attention was riveted by the silent +entrance of six dancing-girls, that instantly brought him to keen +observation. + +Their dance, barefooted and with a minimum of veils, swayed into +sinuous beauty to the monotonous music of kettle-drums, long red +flutes and guitars of sand-tortoise shell with goat-skin heads--music +furnished by a dozen Arabs squatting on their hunkers half-way down the +hall. The gracious weaving of those lithe, white bodies of the girls +as they swayed from sunlit filigree to dim shadow, stirred even the +coldest heart among the Legionaries, that of the Master himself. As +for Bohannan, his cup of joy was brimming. + +The dance ended, one of the girls sang with a little foreign accent, +very pleasing to the ears of the Master and Leclairs the famous chant +of Kaab el Ahbar: + + A black tent, swayed by the desert wind + Is dearer to me, dearer to me + Than any palace of the city walls. + Dearer to me! + + [1]_And the earth met with rain!_ + + A handful of dates, a cup of camel's milk + Is dearer to me, dearer to me + Than any sweetmeat in the city walls. + Dearer to me! + + _And the earth wet with rain!_ + + A slender Bedouin maid, freely unveiled + Is dearer to me, dearer to me + Than harem beauties with henna-stained fingers. + My Bedouin maid is slim as the _ishkil_ tree. + Dearer to me! + + _And the earth wet with rain!_ + + Black tent, swift white mare, camel of Hejaz blood + Are dear to me, are dear to me! + Dearest is my slim, unveiled one of the desert sands! + Dearest to me! + Ibla her name is; she blazes like the sun, + Like the sun at dawn, with hair like midnight shades, + Oh, dear to me! + Paradise is in her eyes; and in her breasts, enchantment. + Her body yields like the tamarisk, + When the soft winds blow over the hills of Nedj! + Dearest to me! + + _And the earth wet with rain!_ + +[Footnote 1: _W'al arz mablul bi matar._ A favorite refrain for songs +among the Arabs, to whom rain represents all comforts and delights.] + +A little silence followed the ending of the song and the withdrawal +of the girls and musicians. The major seemed disposed to call for +an encore, but Janina silenced his forthcoming remarks with a sharp +nudge. All at once, old Bara Miyan removed the amber stem of the +water-pipe from his bearded lips and said: + +"Now, White Sheik, thou hast eaten of our humble food, and seen +our dancing. Thou hast heard our song. Wilt thou also see jugglers, +wrestlers, trained apes from Yemen? Or wilt thou take the _kaylulah_ +(siesta)? Or doth it please thee now to speak of the gifts that my +heart offers thee and thine?" + +"Let us speak of the gifts, O Bara Miyan," answered the Master, while +Leclair listened intently and all the Arabs gave close heed. "We have +not many hours more to stay in this paradise of thine. We must be +away to our own Feringistan, in our flying house. Let us speak of the +gifts. But first, I would ask thee something." + +"Speak, in Allah's name, and it shall be answered thee!" + +"The salt is still in thy stomach for us?" + +"It is still in my stomach." + +"Thou dost swear that, O Bara Miyan, by a great oath?" + +"By the rising of the stars, which is a great oath!" + +"And by the greatest oath, the honor of thy women?" + +"Yea, Frank, by the honor of my women! But thou and thine, too, have +covenants to keep." + +Old Bara Miyan bent shaggy white brows at the Master, and peered out +intently from under the hood of his burnous. The Master queried: + +"What covenants, great Olema?" + +"These: That no harm shall befall Myzab and the Great Pearl Star and +the Black Stone, before thou and thine fly away to the Lands of the +Books. Then, that no blood of our people shall be shed in El Barr, +either the city of Jannati Shahr or the plain. These things thou must +understand, O Frank. If harm befall the sacred relics, or blood +be shed, then the salt will depart from my stomach, and we will be +_kiman_,[1] and the _thar_[2] will be between thine and mine. I have +spoken!" + +[Footnote 1: Kiman, of hostile tribes.] + +[Footnote 2: Thar, the terrible blood-feud of the Arabs.] + +The Master nodded. + +"These things be very clear to my heart," he answered. "They shall be +treasured in my memory." + +"It is well. Now speak we of the gifts." + +The fixed attention of the Arabs told the Legionaries, despite their +ignorance of Arabic, that at last the important negotiation of the +reward was under way. Pipes and cigarettes smoldered, unsmoked; all +eyes turned eagerly toward the Master and Bara Miyan. Silence fell +upon the banquet-hall, where still the thin, perfumed incense-smoke +writhed aloft and where still the motionless Maghrabi men stood in +those ominous lines along the silk-tapestried walls. + +"And what things," began the Olema, "doth thy heart desire, in this +city of Jannati Shahr? Tell thy wish, and perchance it shall be +granted thee!" + +The Master paused, deliberately. Well he understood the psychological +value of slow action in dealing with Orientals. Bargaining, with such, +is a fine art. Haste, greed, eagerness defeat themselves. + +Contemplatively the Master chewed a khat leaf, then smiled a very +little, and asked: + +"Is it permitted to tell thee that this gold, of which thou hast +carved thy city--this gold which to thee is as stones and earth to +the people of Feringistan--hath great value with us?" + +"It is permitted, O Frank. This thing we already know." The old man +frowned ominously. "Dost thou ask gold?" + +The Master nerved himself for the supreme demand, success in which +would mean fortune beyond all calculation, power and wealth to shame +all plutocrats. + +"Gold?" he repeated. "Yea, that is what we ask! Gold! Give unto us +what gold our flying house can carry hence to our own land beyond the +salted seas, and we will depart. Before the rising of the stars we +will be gone. And the peace be unto thee, O Bara Miyan, master of the +gold!" + +Tension as of a wire about to snap contracted the Master's nerves, +strong as they were. Leclair leaned forward, his face pale, teeth set +hard into his lip. + +"Yea, gold!" the Master repeated with hard-forced calm. "This is the +gift we ask of thee, for the Myzab and the holy Black Stone and Kaukab +el Durri--the gift of gold!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + + +"SONS OF THE PROPHET, SLAY!" + +The Olema shook an emphatic head of negation. "_Yafta Allah!_" he +exclaimed, using the absolute, decisive formula of refusal in Arab +bargaining. "This gold of ours is sacred. The angel Jibrail himself +struck the Iron Mountains with his wing, at the same hour when the +Black Stone fell from Paradise, and caused the gold to gush out. It is +not earthly gold, but the gold of angels. + +"Not one grain can be taken from El Barr. The curses of Jehannun, of +Eblis, rest on Arab or _Ajam_ who dare attempt it. Surely, such a one +shall be put to the sword, and his soul in the bottom pits of Hell +shall be taken by the feet and forelock and cast into the hottest +flames! That soul shall eat of the fruit of the tree Al Zakkum, and be +branded forever with the treasure he did attempt to ravish from us!" + +"Remember, great Olema, we did bring thee the Myzab and Kaukab el +Durri, and the holy Black Stone!" + +"I remember, White Sheik, and will reward thee, but not with gold!" +The old man's face was stern, deep-lined, hard; his eyes had assumed a +dangerous glitter. "Thou hast a good tongue, but though it speak from +now till the angel Al Sijil roll up all the scrolls of life, it shall +not avail. + +"Ask some other thing; and remember, if thou dost try by any magic +to remove even a sand-grain of this gold, the salt will be no longer +between thee and me. This must be added to the two things I have +already told thee of, that would take away the salt!" + +Narrowly the Master eyed him, then nodded. Huge though this rebuff +had been, and great as the loss must be, the Master realized the utter +impossibility of coming to any terms with Bara Miyan on a gold basis. +All the fanaticism of these people would resist this, to the death. +Even to insist further might precipitate a massacre. Therefore, like +the philosopher he was, he turned to other possibilities, considering +what was best to be done. + +The Olema spoke again, pausing now and then as he puffed reflectively +at his water-pipe. Said he: + +"I will tell thee a great secret, O Frank. In this city lie the lost +books of the Arwam (Greek) wise men and poets. When the Alexandrian +library was burned by Amrou, at Omar's order, the four thousand baths +of the city were heated for six months by ancient scrolls. I have +heard that ye Feringi have greatly mourned the loss of the Arwam +learning and poetry. Not all this treasure was lost, White Sheik!" + +The Master started, peered at Bara Miyan and forgot to chew his +soothing khat leaves. + +"And then--?" asked he. + +"Some twenty thousand of the most precious parchments were privately +carried by our _Sufis_ to Medina, and thence, after many years, to +Jannati Shahr. Here they still lie, in perfect form, clearly to be +read. This is a treasure that would set the world of the Feringi +ablaze and make thee as a god among thy people. Ask this gift, +O Frank, and it shall be granted thee! For the mere asking, this +treasure shall be thine!" + +The Master shook his head. Deeply as he understood the incalculable +value of the lost books of antiquity, he well knew that to offer his +Legion such a booty would be all in vain. Men who have suffered and +bled, risked all, seen their comrades die, and even now stand in +the shadow of death--hoping some vast, tangible loot--are not proper +material for discussion of literary values. + +"_Yafta Allah!_" the Master exclaimed, with emphasis equal to the +Olema's. "No, Bara Miyan, this cannot be." + +"Our dancing and singing maidens are like a flame of Paradise. Their +enchantments make the heart of man glad with perpetual springtime. +Choose, O Frank, two handmaids for thyself and for each of thy men, +and let them be yours to go with you to your own country and to be +your chattels and your sweet delights!" + +The eyes of "Captain Alden" narrowed with sudden, painful emotion as +she peered at the Master. With some smattering of Arabic, she may have +caught something of the sense of this offer. But the Master, unmoved +by this second offer of Olema's, merely shook his head again, saying: + +"No, Bara Miyan. Though thy women be fair as the dawn over the Sea of +Oman, and soft-eyed as the gazelles in the oasis of the _Wady el +Ward_ (Vale of Flowers), not for us are they. We seek other rewards. +Therefore will I ask thee still another question." + +"Thy question shall be answered, O Frank!" + +"Is it true that the Caliph el Walid, in Hegira 88, sent forty +camel-loads of cut jewels to Mecca?" + +"That is true." + +"And that, later, all those jewels were brought hither?" + +"Even so! It is also true that two Franks in Hegira 550, digged a +tunnel into the Meccan treasury from a house they had hired in the +guise of Egyptian _Hujjaj_. They were both beheaded, White Sheik, and +their bodies were burned to ashes." + +"No doubt," the Master answered, nonchalantly. "But they had brought +no rich gifts to the Meccans. Therefore, now speaking of these forty +camel-loads of cut jewels, O Bara Miyan--" + +"It is in thy mind to ask for those, White Sheik?" + +"Allah giveth thee two hearts, Bara Miyan, as well as the riches of +Karun. Surely, 'the generous man is Allah's friend,' and thy hand is +not tied up."[1] + +[Footnote 1: "To have two hearts" (_dhu'kulbein_) signifies to be +prudent, wise. Karun is the Arabic Croesus. "Thy hand is tied up" is +equivalent to calling a man niggardly.] + +The Olema, a quick decision gleaming in his eyes--though what that +decision might be, who could tell?--put down the amber mouthpiece and +with an eloquent, lean hand gestured toward a silk-curtained doorway +at the right of the vast hall. + +"Come with me, then, White Sheik!" said he, arising and beckoning his +white-robed sub-chiefs. He raised a finger in signal to the Maghrabis, +though what the signal might mean, the Legionaries could not know. +"Come, with all thy men. And, by Allah! I will show thee the things +whereof thou dost speak to me. I will show thee all these things--and +others! + +"_Come_!" + +In silence the Legionaries followed old Bara Miyan through the +curtained doorway; and after them came the sub-chiefs. The Maghrabi +stranglers, noiseless and bare-footed, fell in behind; a long ominous +line of black human brutes, seeming hardly above the intellectual +level of so many gorillas. + +Stout-hearted as the Legionaries were, a kind of numbing oppression +was closing in upon them. City battlements and double walls of inner +citadel, then massive gates and now again more doors that closed +behind them, intervened between them and even the perilous liberty of +the plain of El Barr. And, in addition to all this, some hundreds of +thousands of Arabs, waiting without, effectually surrounded them, and +the Maghrabi men cast their black shadow, threatening and ominous, +over the already somber enough canvas. + +A web, they all felt, was closing about them that only chance and +boldness could unravel. Everything now hung on the word of an aged +fanatic, who for any fancied breach of the Oath of Salt might deliver +them to slavery, torture, death. + +"Remember, men," the Master warned his men as they penetrated the +dim, golden-walled passage also lighted with sandal-oil +_mash'als_--"remember the mercy-bullets. If it comes to war, none of +us must be taken prisoner!" + +To the Olema he exclaimed, in suave tones: + +"_Dakhilak, Ya Shayk!_ (Under thy protection, O Sheik!) Let not the +laws of hospitality or the Oath of Salt be forgotten!" + +The Olema only smiled oddly, in the dim and perfumed obscurity of the +passageway, along which the slither of the many sandaled feet on +the gold pavement made a soft, creeping sound. Nothing more was +said--except for some grumbled mouthings of Bohannan--during the next +few minutes. + +The passage seemed enormously long to the Master as, flanked by +Leclair, "Captain Alden," and the major, he peered curiously at its +smooth, dull-yellow walls all chased with geometrical patterns picked +out in silver and copper, between the dull-hued tapestries, and +banded with long extracts from the Koran inlaid in Tumar characters of +mother-of-pearl. + +Several turnings, and three flights of steps descending through the +solid gold "dyke" that ran down into the bowels of the earth no +one could even guess how far, served still more to confuse the +Legionaries' sense of direction and to increase their conviction that, +in case of any outbreak of hostilities, they would find themselves +trapped more helplessly than rats in a cage. + +It is no aspersion on their bravery to say that more than one among +them had already begun inwardly to curse this wild-goose chase +into Jannati Shahr. It all had now begun to assume absolutely the +appearance of a well-formulated plan of treachery. Even the Master +gave recognition to this appearance, by saying again: "Be ready for +a quick draw. But whatever you do, don't be the aggressor. Watch your +step!" + +The passage suddenly reached its end. Another heavy door of the yellow +metal swung back, and all issued into a hall even more vast than the +one they had quitted. + +No windows here admitted light. The air, though pure enough as from +some hidden source of ventilation, hung dead and heavy. Not even the +censers, depending from the dim roof, far above, could freshen it; +nor could the cressets' light make more than a kind of ghostly aura +through the gloom. + +By this dim half-illumination the Master beheld, there before him in +the middle of the tremendous golden pavement, a strange, +pyramidal object rising four-square in the shape of an equilateral +triangle--just such a triangle as was formed by the locations of +Mecca, Bab el Mandeb, and El Barr. + +This pyramid, polished and elaborately engraved, towered some ninety +feet above the floor. It was pierced by numbers of openings, like the +entrances to galleries; and up the smooth face nearest the entrance to +the hall, a stairway about ten feet wide mounted toward the apex. + +Completely finished all save the upper part, which still remained +truncated, the golden pyramid gleamed dully in the vague light, a +thing of awe and wonder, grimly beautiful, fearsome to gaze up at. For +some unknown reason, as the Legionaries grouped themselves about their +Master, an uncanny influence seemed to emanate from this singular +object. All remained silent, as the Olema, an enigmatic smile on his +thin, bearded lips, raised a hand toward the pyramid. + +"This thing, O Frank, thou shouldst see," he remarked dryly. "Above +all, the inner chambers. Wilt thou go with me?" + +"I will go," the Master answered. "Lead the way!" + +The Olema beckoned one of the Maghrabis, who delivered a torch of some +clear-burning, resinous, and perfumed material into his hand. + +"Come," bade the old man, and gestured toward the steps of gold. + +Together, in silence, they mounted toward the dim, high-arched +roof. From near the top, the Master, glancing down, could see the +white-robed mass of the Arabs, the small, compact group of his own +men; and, behind them all, the dim, black lines of the stranglers. But +already the Olema was gesturing for him to enter the highest of the +galleries. + +Into this, carved in the virgin metal, both made their way. The +torchlight flung strange, wavering gleams on smooth walls niched with +dark embrasures. At the further end of the passage, the Olema stopped. + +"Here is a new trophy, just added to all that Allah hath placed in our +hands," said he, gravely. "There are some three-and-twenty places yet +left, to fill. Wilt thou see the new trophy?" + +The Master nodded silently. Raising the torch, the Olema thrust it +into one of the embrasures. There the Master beheld a human skull. + +The empty eye-sockets, peering out at him, seemed to hold a malevolent +malice. That the skull had been but freshly cleaned, was obvious. + +"Abd el Rahman?" asked the Master. + +"Yea, the Apostate," answered Bara Miyan. "At last, Allah hath +delivered him to us of El Barr." + +"Thou hast used a heavy hand on the Apostate, O Sheik." + +"We of Jannati Shahr do not anoint rats' heads with jasmine oil. Tell +me, Frank, how many men hast thou?" + +"Three-and-twenty, is it not so?" + +"Yea, it is so. Tell me, Bara Miyan, this whole pyramid--" + +"Skulls, yea." + +"This is the Pyramid of Ayeshah that I have heard strange tales of?" +the Master demanded, feeling even his hard nerves quiver. + +"The Pyramid of Ayeshah." + +"No myth, then, but reality," the Master commented, fascinated in +spite of himself. "Even as the famous Tower of Skulls at Jerba, in +Tunis!" + +"Thou hast said it, O Frank. Here be more than ten-score thousand +skulls of the enemies of Islam, of blasphemers against the Prophet, of +those who have penetrated the Empty Abodes, of those who have sought +to carry gold from El Barr. It is nearly done, this pyramid. But there +still remain three-and-twenty vacant places to be filled." + +For a long minute, the eyes of the Master and of Bara Miyan met, in +silence, with the torch-flare glinting strange lights from them. Then +the Olema spoke. + +"Hast thou seen enough?" demanded he. + +"Mine eyes are filled." + +"And dost thou still ask rewards of gold?" + +"Nay, it is as I have already told thee; let the cut jewels of the +Caliph el Walid suffice!" + +"It is well spoken. Let us descend." + +In silence, again, they left the gruesome gallery and went down the +stairway with the Olema's torch leaving vague, fantastic wreaths of +odorous smoke curling up along the polished, dull-yellow slant of the +pyramid. Back on the floor again, the Master said to his men: + +"This pyramid is filled with skulls of men who have tried to carry +gold from El Barr. For the present, we must dismiss gold from our +minds. Common prudence dictates that we abandon all idea of gold, take +whatever reward we can get, and leave this city at once. + +"The gold is of no importance, whatever. On the way back over the +outer foothills of the Iron Mountains, many outcrops of gold exist. +_Nissr_ can poise above some of these; and a few hours' labor will +load her with all the gold we can carry. There can be no sense in +trying to get any here. It would simply add to our peril. + +"Everything is therefore quite satisfactory. But watch every move. If +nothing breaks, in two hours from now we should be on our way. Again +I caution you all, keep silent and make no move without my orders. The +prize is at our very finger-tips. So long as we shed no blood and as +nothing happens to the Myzab and the Black Stone, we are safe. But +remember--_be careful!_" + +The Olema touched him on the elbow. + +"Now," the old man asked, "now, O Frank, wouldst thou see the cut +jewels of the Caliph el Walid?" + +"Even so!" + +"Come, then!" And Bara Miyan gestured toward another door that led, at +the left, out of the Chamber of the Pyramid. + +Again the strange procession formed itself, as before, with the +gorilla-like Maghrabi stranglers a rear guard. A few minutes through +still another passage in the gold brought them to a door of ebony, +banded with silver. No door of gold, it seemed, sufficed for this +chamber they were about to enter. Stronger materials were needed here. + +This door, like the others, swung silently on its massive hinges. + +"Come, O Master of the fighting-men of Feringistan!" exclaimed the +Olema. "In Allah's name, take of the gifts that I have already offered +thee, and then in peace depart!" + +Before the Master could reply, a shuddering concussion shivered +through the solid gold all about them. The tremor of this shock, like +that of an earthquake, trembled the cressets on the walls and made the +huge ebony door, ajar into a dim-lighted hall, groan on its hinges. + +Stupefied, Legionaries and Arabs alike, stared silently under the +vague gleam of the torches. + +Then, far and faint, as though coming along tortuous passages from +distances above, a muffled concussion smote their ears. The shock of +the air-wave was distinctly felt, eloquent of the catastrophe that in +a second of time had shattered every plan and hope. + +As if an echo of that thunderous, far explosion, a faint wailing of +voices--echoing from very far above--drifted eerily along the passage; +voices in blended rage and fear, in hate, agony, despair. + +"God above--!" the major gulped. "Captain Alden" whipped her pistol +from its holster, not a fraction of a second before the Master's +leaped into his hand. The torchlight flickered on Leclair's +service-revolver, and was reflected on the guns of every Legionary. + +"If that's the explosive," Bohannan cried, "faith, we're in for it! +_Is_ it the explosive that's blown Hell out o' the Black Stone?" + +A wild cry echoed down the passage. The Olema, his face suddenly +distorted with a passion of hate, snatched a pistol from beneath his +burnous. + +"The dogs of Feringistan have spat on all Islam!" he screamed, in a +shrill, horrible voice. "The Black Stone is no more! Vengeance on the +unbelieving dogs! _Allah il Allah!_ Kill, kill, and let no dog escape! + +"Sons of the Prophet! Slay me these dogs! Kill!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + + +WAR IN THE DEPTHS + +Horrible, unreal as a fever-born nightmare in its sudden frenzy, the +Arab's attack drove in at them. The golden passageway flung from wall +to wall screams, curses in shrill barbaric voices, clangor of steel +whirled from scabbards, echoes of shots loud-roaring in that narrow +space. + +Bara Miyan's pistol, struck up by the woman's hand, spat fire over the +Master's head just as the Olema himself went down with blood spurting +from a jugular severed by the major's bullet. The Olema's gaudy +burnous crimsoned swiftly. + +"Got _him_!" shouted Bohannan, firing again, again, into the tangle of +sub-chiefs and Maghrabi men. Adams pitched forward, cleft to the chin +by a simitar. + +The firing leaped to point-blank uproar, on both sides. The men of +Jannati Shahr numbered more pistols, but the Legionaries had quicker +firers. Arabs, Legionaries, Maghrabis alike falling in a tumult of raw +passions, disappeared under trampling feet. + +Deafening grew the uproar of howls, curses, shots. The smell of dust +and blood mingled with the aromatic perfume of the cressets. + +The Master was shouting something, as he emptied his automatic into +the pack of white-robed bodies, snarling brown faces, waving arms. But +what he was commanding, who could tell? + +Like a storm-wave flinging froth ashore, the rush of the Moslems +drove the Legionaries--fewer now--back into the treasure-chamber. The +Master, violent hands on "Captain Alden," swung her back, away; thrust +her behind him. Her eyes gleamed through the mask as she still fired. +The Master heard her laugh. + +From dimness of gloom, within the doorway, two vague figures rained +dagger-blows. Janina, mortally stabbed, practically blew the head off +one of these door-keepers. + +Cracowicz got the other with a blow from the butt of his empty +pistol--a blow that crushed in the right temporal bone. Then he, too, +and three others, fell and died. + +Outside, in the passage, the Maghrabis were wringing the necks of the +wounded white men. The dull sound of crushed and broken bones blent +with the turmoil. + +"_The door--shut the door!_" + +The Master's voice penetrated even this Hell-tumult. The Master flung +himself against the door, and others with him. + +The very frenzy of the attack defeated the Arab's object, for it drove +the survivors back into the treasure-crypt. And in the narrow doorway +the white men could for a moment hold back the howling tides of fury. + +With cold lead, butts, naked fists, the remaining Legionaries smashed +a little clearance-room, corpse-heaped. They stumbled, fought, fell +into the crypt. + +The heavy door, swung by panting, sweating men--while others fired +through the narrowing aperture--groaned shut on massive hinges. + +As the space narrowed, frenzy broke loose. Arabs and Maghrabis crawled +and struggled over bodies, flung themselves to sure immolation in the +doorway. As fast as they fell, the Legionaries dragged them inside. +The place became an infernal shambles, slippery, crimson, unreal with +horror. + +For one fate-heavy moment, the tides of war hung even. Furiously the +remaining Legionaries toiled with straining muscles, swelling veins, +panting lungs, to force the door shut, against the shrieking, frenzied +drive of Moslem fanatics lashed into fury by the _thar_, the feud of +blood. + +"Captain Alden" turned the tide. She snatched down one of the copper +lamps that hung by chains from the dim ceiling of the treasure-crypt. +Over the heads of the Legionaries she flung blazing sandal-oil out +upon the white-robed jam of madmen. + +The flaming oil flared up along those thin, white robes. It dripped on +wounded and on dead. Wild howls of anguish pierced the tumult. In the +minute of confusion, the door boomed shut. Bohannan dropped a heavy +teakwood bar into staples of bronze. + +"God!" he panted, his right eye misted with blood from a jagged cut +on the brow. Shrieks of rage, from without, were answered by jeers and +shouts of exultation from the Legionaries. + +"_Nom de Dieu!_" gasped Leclair. His neck was blackened with a +powder burn, and the tunic was ripped clean off him. Not one of the +Legionaries had uniforms completely whole. Hardly half of them still +kept their slippers. + +Torn, barefooted, burned, bleeding, decimated, they still laughed. +Wild gibes penetrated the door of the treasure-crypt, against which +the mad attack was already beginning to clash and thunder. + +"Faith, but this is a grand fight!" the major exulted. "It's +Donnybrook with trimmings!" He waved his big fists enthusiastically on +high, and blinked his one good eye. "If a man can die this way, sure, +what's the use o' living?" + +"Steady men! Steady!" the Master cautioned, reloading his gun. "No +time, now, for shouting. Load up! This fight's only begun!" + +Already, as they recharged their weapons, the door was groaning under +the frantic attack of the Arabs and Maghrabis. Wild curses, howls to +Allah and to the Prophet, came in dull confusion through the massive +plates. A hail of blows besieged them. The bronze staples began to +bend. + +"Come, men!" commanded the Master. "No chance to defend this position. +They'll be in, directly. There are thousands of them in reserve! Away +from here!" + +"Where the devil _to_?" demanded the major, defiantly. "Hang to +it--give 'em blue Hell as they come through!" + +The Master seized and flung him back. + +"If you're so keen on dying," he cried, "you can die right now, for +insubordination! Back, away from here, you idiot!" + +The major obeyed. The others followed. Already the door was +creaking, giving, as the Legionaries--now hardly more than a dozen in +number--began the first steps of their retreat, that should rank in +history with that of Xenophon's historic Ten Thousand. + +The Greeks had all of God's outdoors for their maneuvers. These +Legionaries had nothing but dark pits and runways, unexplored, in the +bowels of a huge, fanatic city. Thus, their retreat was harder. But +with courage unshaken, they turned their backs on the yielding door, +and set their faces toward darkness and the unknown. + +Two of their number lay dead inside this chamber where the Legionaries +now were. Nothing could be done for them; the bodies simply had to be +abandoned where they lay. Eight were dead in the passage outside the +chamber, their corpses mingled with those of Arabs and Maghrabis. + +In the chamber, as the Master glanced back, he could see a heap of +bodies round the door. These bodies of attackers who had been pulled +inside and butchered, made a glad sight to the Master. He laughed +grimly. + +"We're more than even with them, so far," he exulted. "We've beaten +them, so far! The rest will get us, all right enough, but Jannati +Shahr will remember the coming of the white men!" + +The survivors--the Master, Bohannan, "Captain Alden," and Leclair and +nine others--were in evil case, as they trailed down the low-roofed +chamber lighted with copper lamps. More than half bore wounds. +Some showed bleeding faces, others limp arms; still others hobbled +painfully, leaving bloody trails on the floor of dull gold. Curses on +the Arabs echoed in various tongues. This first encounter had taken +frightful toll of the Legion. + +But every heart that still lived was bold and high. Not one of the +little party entertained the slightest hope of surviving or of ever +beholding the light of day. Still, not one uttered any word of despair +or suggestion of surrender. + +Everything but a fight to the finish was forgotten. Only one man even +thought of _Nissr_ and of what probably had happened out there on the +plain. This man was Leclair. + +"_Dieu_!" he grunted. "An accident, eh? Something must have gone +wrong--or did the brown devils attack? I hope our men outside +made good slaughter of these Moslem pigs, before they died. Eh, my +Captain?" + +"Well?" + +"Is it not possible that _Nissr_ and our men still live? That they +will presently bombard the city? That they may rescue us?" + +The Master shook his head. + +"They may live," he answered, "but as for rescuing us--" His gesture +completed the idea. Suddenly he pointed. + +"See!" he cried. "Another door!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + + +INTO THE JEWEL-CRYPT + +It was time some exit should be discovered. The tumult had notably +increased, at the barred entrance. The staples could not hold, much +longer. + + +The Legionaries pressed forward. At the far end of the chamber, +another door was indeed visible; smaller than the first, low, almost +square, and let into a deep recess in the elaborately carved wall of +gold. + +Barefooted, in their socks, or some still in slippers, they reached +this door. A little silence fell on them, as they inspected it. +One man coughed, spitting blood. Another wheezed, with painful +respiration. The smell of sweat and blood sickened the air. + +"That's some door, all right!" judged Bohannan, peering at its dark +wood, heavily banded with iron. "Faith, but they've got a padlock on +that, big enough to hold the Pearly Gates!" + +"It is only a question, now, of the key," put in Leclair, with French +precision. + +"Faith, _here's_ a trap!" the Irishman continued. "A trap, for you! +And thirteen rats in it! Lucky, eh?" + +"In Jananti Shahr," the memory of a sentence flashed to the Master, +"we do not anoint rats' heads with jasmine oil!" But all he said was: +"Light, here! Bring lamps!" + +Three Legionaries obeyed. The flare of the crude wicks, up along the +door, showed its tremendous solidity. + +"A little of our explosive would do this business," the Master +declared. "But it's obvious nothing short of that would have much +effect. I think, men, we'll make our stand right here. + +"If we put out all lights, we'll have the attackers at a disadvantage. +We can account for fifty or more, before they close in. And--'Captain +Alden,' sir! Where are you going? Back, here!" + +The woman gave no heed. She was half-way to the entrance door, round +the edges of which already torch-light had begun to glimmer as the +attackers strained it from its hinges. + +Amazed, the Legionaries stared. The Master started after her. Now she +was on her knees beside one of the dead Maghrabis--the one killed +by Janina. She found nothing; turned to the other; uttered a cry of +exultation and held up a clumsy key. + +Back over the floor of gold she ran. Her fingers held a crimson cord, +from which the key dangled. + +"Those two--they were guardians of this vault, of course!" she cried. +"Here is the key!" + +A cheer burst from the Legionaries. The Master clutched the key, +pressed forward to the inner door. A terrible intensity of emotion +seized all the survivors, as he fitted the key to the ponderous lock. + +"God!" the Irishman grunted, as the wards slid back. The padlock +clattered to the floor. The hasp fell. In swung the door. + +Through it pressed the Legionaries, with lamps swinging, pistols in +hand. As the last of them entered, the outer door collapsed with a +bursting clangor. Lights gleamed; a white-robed tumult of raging men +burst through. Shots crackled; yells echoed; and the sound of many +sandaled feet, furiously running, filled the outer chamber with sounds +of ominous import. + +"_Ah, sacrés cochons!_" shouted Leclair, emptying his pistol at the +pursuers. The Master thrust him back. The door clanged shut; down +dropped another bar. + +Bohannan laughed madly. The fighting-blood was leaping in his veins. + +"Oh, the grand fight!" he shouted. "God, the grand old fight!" + +Confused voices, crying out in Arabic, wheeled the Master from the +door. + +This inner chamber, very much smaller than the outer, was well lighted +by still more lamps, though here all were of chased silver. + +At the far end, four dim figures were visible. Black faces peered in +wonder. The Legionaries caught sight of giant simitars, of fluttering +white robes as the figures advanced. + +"By Allah!" a hoarse shout echoed. "Look, Mustapha! The Feringi!" + +In the shadows at the other end, the amazed Maghrabi swordsmen +hesitated one precious moment. White-rimmed eyes stared, teeth gleamed +through distorted lips. + +These gigantic _mudirs_, or Keepers of the Treasure, had expected the +opening of the door to show them the Feringi, indeed, but preceded by +Bara Miyan and surrounded by men of Jannati Shahr. + +Now they beheld the dogs of unbelievers all alone, there, with guns in +hands, with every sign of battle. They had heard sounds of war, +from without. Their dull minds, slowly reacting, could not grasp the +significance of all this. + +"The Feringi, Yusuf," cried another voice. "And they are alone! What +meaneth this?" + +"_M'adri_" (I know not), ejaculated still another. "But _kill--kill_!" + +Their attack was hopeless, but its bravery ranked perfect. Their +shouting charge down the chamber, sabers high, ended in grunting +sprawls of white. Not half-naked like the low-caste Maghrabi outside, +but clad in Arab fashion, they lay there, with Legionaries' bullets in +breast and brain. + +The Master smiled, grimly, as he walked to one of the bodies and +stirred it with his naked foot. He swung above it a silver lamp he had +pulled down from the wonderfully arabesqued wall. + +"Four scimitars added to our equipment will be useful, at close +quarters," he opined very coolly, unmindful of the dull uproar now +battering at the inner door. "Pick up the cutlery, men, and don't +forget the admirable qualities of the _arme blanche_!" + +Himself, he took one of the long, curved blades. The major, Leclair, +and Ferrara--an expert swordsman he had been, in the Italian +army--possessed themselves of the others. + +Bohannan whistled his scimitar through the air. + +"Very fine I call it!" he exclaimed, with a joyful laugh. "Some little +game of tag, what? And our Moslem friends are still 'it!' We're still +ahead!" + +"And likely to be, till our friends bring powder, mine that door, and +blow it in!" The Master added: "We've still a few minutes--maybe more. +Now, then--" + +A shrill cry in French, from Lebon, drew all eyes away to the left of +the small chamber. + +"_Voilŕ_!" the lieutenant's orderly was vociferating. They saw his +distorted, torture-broken hand wildly gesticulating toward the floor. +"My Lieutenant, behold!" + +"In the name of God, what now?" Leclair demanded, scimitar in hand. +The silver lamps struck high-lights from that gleaming blade, as he +turned toward his orderly. Never had he seen the man seized and shaken +by excitement as at this moment. "What hast thou found, Lebon? What?" + +"But behold--behold!" choked the orderly. Articulation failed him. He +stammered into unintelligible cries. The Legionaries crowded toward +him. And in the dumb stupefaction that overcame them, the roaring +tumult at the door was all forgotten. The sentence of death hanging +above them, faded to nothing. + +Even the Master's cold blood leaped and thrilled, at realization of +what he was now beholding as the silver lamps swung from out-stretched +hands. Bohannan, for once, was too dazed for exuberance. + +Only the Master could find words. + +"Well, men," said he, in even tones. "Here it is, at last. We're +seeing something no Feringi ever saw before--the hidden treasure of +Jannati Shahr!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + + +THE JEWEL HOARD + +Men do strange things, at times, when confronted by experiences +entirely outside even the limits of imagination. At sight of the +perfectly overwhelming masses of wealth that lay there in square pits +chiseled out of the solid gold, most of the Legionaries reacted like +men drunk or mad. + +The hoard before them was enough to unbalance reason. + +Leclair began to curse with amazing fluency in French and Arabic, +while his orderly fell into half-hysterical prayer. Bristol--stolid +Englishman though he was--had to make a strong effort to keep his +teeth from chattering. The two Italians, one with an ugly wound on +the jaw, burst out laughing, waving their arms extravagantly. Simonds +shouted jubilation and began to jump about in the most extraordinary +fashion. Wallace sat down heavily on the floor, held his lamp out over +one of the pits and stared with blank incomprehension. + +As for the major, he dropped to his knees, threw down his weapons and +plunged his arms up to the elbows in the sliding sparkle of the gems. +To have heard him babble, one would have given him free entrance into +any lunatic asylum. + +The only two who had remained appreciably calm were "Captain Alden" +and the Master. But even they, as fully as all the rest, forgot the +impending menace of attack. For a moment, even their ears were deaf +to the muffled tumult outside the door, their senses dulled to every +other thing in this world save the incredible hoard there in the +golden pits before them. + +Pain, exhaustion, defeat ceased to be, for the Legionaries. Ruin and +the shadow of Azraël's wing departed from their minds. For, bring what +the future might, the present was offering them a spectacle such as +never before in this world's history had the eyes of white men rested +on. + +Not even a man _in extremis_ could have turned away his gaze from the +unbelievable masses of shimmering wealth in those square pits of gold. + +Fairy tales and legends, "Arabian Nights," and all the mystic lore +of the East never conjured forth more brain-numbing plenitudes of +fortune, nor painted more stupefying beauty, than now gleamed up from +those eight excavations hewn in the dull, soft metal. + +"_Nom de Dieu!_" Leclair kept monotonously repeating. "_Mais, nom de +Dieu!_ Ah, the pigs--ah, the sacred pigs!" + +Disjointed words from the others--cries, oaths, jubilations--filled +the low-arched chamber, mingling in the stuffy air with lamp-smoke and +the dull scent of blood and dust and sweat. + +Wheezing breath, wordless cries, grunts, strange laughter sounded. +And, withal, the major's hands and arms in one of the pits made a +dry, slithering slide and click as he kneaded, worked, and stirred the +gems, dredged up fistfuls and let them rain down crepitantly, again. + +The sight was one very hard to grasp with any concrete understanding, +harder still to render in cold words. At first, it gave only a +confused impression of colors, like those in some vivid Oriental +rug. The details escaped observation; and these changed, too, as the +swaying of the lamps, in excited hands, shifted position. + +A shimmer of unearthly light played over the pits, like the thin, +colored flames at the edge of a driftwood fire. Soft, opalescent +gleams were blent with prismatic blues, greens, crimsons. Melting +violets were stabbed through by hard yellows and penetrant purples. +And here an orange flash vied with a delicate old rose; there a rich +carnation sparkled beside a misty gray, like fading clouds along the +dim horizons of fairyland. + +The Master murmured: "It's true, then--partly true. Rrisa knew part of +it!" + +"Not all?" asked the woman. + +"I hardly think the Caliph el Walid's gold was ever brought to Jannati +Shahr," he answered. "Coals to Newcastle, you know. And these jewels +are not all uncut. Some are finely faceted, some uncut. But in the +main Rrisa spoke the truth. He told what he believed." + +"Yes," assented the woman. Then she added: "Spartan simplicity, is it +not? No elaborate coffers. Not even leather sacks. Just bins, like so +much wheat." + +"The shining wheat of Araby!" + +"Of the whole Orient!" + +They fell silent, peering with fixed attention. And gradually some +calm returned to the others. At the door, too, the turmoil had ceased. +No doubt the Jannati Shahr men, baffled, had sent for much gunpowder +to blow in the massive planking. That silence became ominous. + +Still the Legionaries could take no thought of anything but the +Caliph el Walid's hoard. As they stood, squatted, or knelt around +the pits--pits about two and a half feet square and deeper than the +deepest thrust of any arm--it seemed to them that bottomless lakes +and seas of light were opening down, down below them into unfathomed +depths of beauty. + +Such beauty caused the soul to drink nepenthes of forgetfulness. +Hardships, wounds, blood, pain, menace of death faded under that +spell. That the Legionaries were trapped at the bottom of a vast +rabbit-warren, with swarms of Moslem ferrets soon to rush upon them, +now seemed to have no significance. + +Tranced, "indifferent to Fate," the adventurers peered on greater +wealth of jewels than ever elsewhere in this world's history had been +garnered in one place. The liquid light of the hoard flashed strange +radiances on their tanned, deep-lined faces, now smeared with sweat +and dust, with powder-grime and blood. Their eyes were beholding +unutterable rainbows, flashings and burning glows like those of the +Moslem's own Jebel Radhwa, or Mountain of Paradise. + +Each of these jewels--several million gems, at the least +computation--what a story it might have told! What a tale of remotest +antiquity, of wild adventures and romance, of love, hate, death! What +a revelation of harem, palace, treasury, of cavern, temple, throne! Of +Hindu ghat, Egyptian pyramid, Persian garden, Afghan fastness, Chinese +pagoda, Burmese minaret! Of enchanted moonlight, blazing sun, dim +starlight! Of passion and of pain! + +On what proud hand of Sultan, emir, cadi, prince, had this huge ruby +burned? On what beloved breast or brow of princess, nautch-girl, +concubine--yes, maybe of slave exalted to the purple--had that +fire-gleaming diamond blazed? + +From Roman times, from Greek, from ancient Jerusalem, from the +fire-breathing shrines of Baal at long-dead Carthage, perhaps, this +topaz might have come. This sapphire might have graced the anklet of +some beauty of old Nile, ages before King Solomon wielded the scepter, +ages even before the great god Osiris reigned. + +That amethyst might have been loot of the swift black galleys of Tyre, +in joyous days when men's strong arms took what they could, of women +or of gems, and when Power was Law! + +Imagination ran riot there, gazing down upon those jewel-pits. In them +lay every kind of precious stone for which, from remotest antiquity, +men had cheated, schemed, lied, fought, murdered. The jewels showed +no attempt at sorting or classification. With true Oriental +_laissez-faire_, they were all mingled quite at random; these gems, +any chance handfuls of which must have meant an incalculable fortune. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + + +BOHANNAN BECOMES A MILLIONAIRE + +Like men in a dream, after the first wild emotions had died, the +Legionaries peered down into this sea of light. Smoke from the lamps +rose toward the dim, low-arched roof. Blood from the Maghrabi's wounds +slowly spread and clotted on the golden floor. + +Without, a confused murmur told of resuming preparations to smash in +the door. And through it all, the dry clicking of the gems made itself +audible, as the major sifted them with shaking fingers. + +"Well, men," the Master laughed dryly, "here they are! Here are the +jewels of Jannati Shahr. Old Bara Miyan would probably have given us a +peck or two of them, for Myzab and the Great Pearl Star and the Black +Stone, if those hadn't been destroyed--" + +"How do you know they've been destroyed?" the major cried. "How do you +know but what we'll be rescued, here?" + +"If the bombardment had been going to begin, I think we'd have heard +something of it, by now. My judgment tells me there'll be no explosive +dropped on Jannati Shahr. + +"We've got to fight this thing through, unaided. And at any rate, we +don't have to limit ourselves to a peck or two of jewels. We've got +them all, now--or they've got us!" + +The irony of his tone made no impression on Bohannan. His mercurial +temperament seemed to have gone quite to pieces, in view of the hoard. +He cried: + +"Come on, then, boys! Fill up!" + +And with a wild laugh he began scooping the gems, hap-hazard, into the +pockets of his torn, battle-stained uniform. Jewels of fabulous price +escaped his fingers, like so many pebbles in a sand-pit, and fell +clicking to the golden floor. With shaking hands the major dredged +into the pit before him, mad with a very frenzy of greed. + +"Stop!" cried the Master, sternly. "No nonsense, now!" + +"What?" retorted Bohannan, angrily. His bruised, cut face reddened +ominously. + +"Drop those jewels, sir!" + +"Why?" + +"Principally because I order you to!" The Master's voice was cold, +incisive. "They're worthless, now. No make-weights! We can't have +make-weights at a time like this. To think of jewels at such an hour! +Throw them back!" + +A flash of rage distorted the major's face. His blue eyes burned with +strange fire. + +"Never!" he shouted, crouching there at the brink of the jewel-pit. +"Call it insubordination, mutiny, anything you like, but I'm going to +have my fill of these! Faith, but I _will_, now!" + +"Sir--" + +"I don't give a damn! Jewels for mine!" His voice rose gusty, raw, +wild. "I've been a soldier of fortune all my life, and that's how I'm +going to die. Poor, most of the time. Well, I'm going to die rich!" + +His philippic against poverty and discipline tumbled out in a torrent +of wild words, strongly tinged with the Irish accent that marked his +passionate excitement. He sprang to his feet, and--raging--faced his +superior officer. He shouted: + +"Sure, and I've knocked up and down this rotten old world all my life, +a rolling stone with never enough to bless myself with. And I've gone, +at the end, on this wild-goose chase of yours, that's led you and +me and all of us to a black death here in the bottom of a damned, +fantastic, Arabian city of gold! + +"That's all right, dying. That was in the bargain, if it had to be +done. Two-thirds of us are dead, already, a damn sight better men +than I am! We've been dying right along, from the beginning of this +crack-brained Don Quixote crusade. That's all right. But, faith! now +that it's my turn to die, by the holy saints I'm going to be well paid +for it!" + +Bohannan, eyes wild, struck his heaving breast with a huge fist and +laughed like a maniac. + +"That's all right, you reaching for your gun!" he defied the Master. +"Go ahead, shoot! I'm rich already. My pockets are half full. Shoot, +damn you, shoot!" + +The Master laughed oddly, and let his hand fall from the pistol-butt. + +"This," said he quite calmly, "is insanity." + +"Ha! Insanity, it is? Well then, let me be insane, can't you? It's a +good way to die. And I've _lived_, anyhow. We've all lived. We've all +had a Hell of a run for our money, and it's time to quit. + +"Shoot, if you want to--a few minutes more or less don't matter. But, +faith, I'll die a millionaire, and that's something I never +expected to be. Fine, fine! Give me a minute more, and I'll die +a multi-millionaire! Sure, imagine that, will you? Major Aloysius +Bohannan, gentleman-adventurer, a multi-millionaire! That's what I'll +be, and the man don't live that can stop me now!" + +With the laugh of a madman, the major fell to his knees again beside +the pit, plunged his hands once more into the gleaming, sliding mass +of wealth, and recommenced cramming his pockets. + +The Master laughed again. + +"It's quite immaterial, after all," said he. "I led you into this. +And now it's very nearly a case of _sauve qui peut_. The sooner your +pockets are full, to the extreme limit, the sooner something like +reason will return to you. Jewels being of interest to a man at +death's door--it's quite characteristic of you, Bohannan. Help +yourself!" + +"Thanks, I will!" Bohannan flung up at him, blood-drabbled face pale +and drawn by the flaring lamplight. "A _multi_-millionaire! Death? I +should worry! Help myself? Faith, I just will, that!" + +"Anyone else, here, feel so disposed?" the Master inquired. "If so, +get it over and done with. We've got fighting ahead, and we'd better +quench whatever thirst there is for wealth, first." + +No one made any move. Only Bohannan's mind had been unsettled by the +hoard, to the extent of wanting to possess it. Now that death loomed, +empty pockets were as good, to all the rest, as any other sort. + +"You're all a pack of damned fools!" Bohannan sneered. "You could die +richer than Rockefeller, every man-jack of you, and you--you don't +want to! Sure, it's _you_ that's mad, not me!" + +No one answered. They all stood peering down at him, their faces +tense, wounded, dirty; their eyes gleaming strangely; the shadow of +Azraël's wing already enfolding them. Then, a few detached themselves +from the little group and wandered off into the gloom, away from the +pits. Leclair muttered: + +"I prefer loading my automatic, to loading my pockets! Odd, the major +is, eh? Ah well, _ŕ chacun sa chimčre!_" + +"Everybody's weapons fully loaded?" the Master demanded. "Be sure they +are! And don't forget the mercy-bullets, men. These Arabs are rather +ingenious in their tortures. They make a specialty of crucifying +unbelievers--upside down. That sort of thing won't do, for us not for +fighting-men of the Legion!" + +Bohannan, laughing, stood up. Every pocket was a-bulge with +incalculable wealth. + +"Now I'm satisfied," he remarked in more rational tones. "I reckon I +must be worth more money, as I stand here, than any human being that +ever lived. You're looking at the richest man in the world, gentlemen! +And I'm going to die, the richest. If that's not some distinction, +what is? For a man that was bone-poor, fifteen minutes ago! Now, sir--" + +A sudden cry interrupted him. That cry came from "Captain Alden." + +"Here! Look here!" + +"What is it?" demanded the Master. He started toward her, while +outside the door sounded dull commands, as if the Arabs-now organized +to effective work-were already preparing to blow open the last barrier +between them and their victims. + +"What now?" the Master repeated, striding toward her. + +"_See! See here!_" + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII + + +A WAY OUT? + +The woman stood pointing into a black recess at the far end of the +crypt. All that the Master could discern there, at first, was a +darkness even greater than that which shrouded the corners of the +vault. + +"Light, here!" he commanded. Ferrara swung a lamp, by its chain, +into the recess. They saw a low, square opening in the wall of dull, +gleaming metal. + +"A passage, eh?" the Master ejaculated. + +"Maybe a _cul-de-sac_," she answered. "But--there's no telling--it may +lead somewhere." + +"By Allah! Men! Here--all of you!" + +The Master's voice rang imperatively. They all came trooping with +naked or slippered feet that slid in the wet redness of the floor. +Broken exclamations sounded. + +Seizing the lamp, the Master thrust it into the opening, which +measured no more than four feet high by three wide. The light smokily +illuminated about three yards of this narrow passage. Then a sharp +turn to the right concealed all else. + +Whither this runway might lead, to what peril or what trap it might +conduct them, none could tell. Very strongly it reminded the Master +of the gallery in the Great Pyramid of Gizeh, which he had seen +twelve years before--the gallery which in ancient days had served as a +death-trap for treasure-seekers. + +That gallery, he remembered, had contained a cleverly hidden stone +in its floor which once on a time had precipitated pilferers down a +vertical shaft more than a hundred feet, to death, in the bowels of +that huge, terrifying mausoleum. + +Was this passage of similar purpose and design? In all probability, +yes. Oriental ways run parallel in all the lands of the East. + +Nevertheless, the passage offered a means of escaping from the crypt. +And there, with the dead Maghrabi mudirs, the Legionaries could not +stay. In a few minutes now, at most, the men of Jannati Shahr would be +upon them. + +"Faith, what the devil now?" exclaimed Bohannan, now seeming quite +rational, as he peered into the cramped corridor. "Where to Hell does +this lead?" + +"Just where you've said, to Hell, it's far more than likely," the +Master retorted. "Come, men, into it! Follow me!" + +He stooped, lamp in one hand, simitar in the other, and in a most +cramped posture entered the passage. After him came Leclair, the +woman, Bohannan, and the others. + +The air hung close and heavy. The oppression of that stooping +position, the lamp-smoke, the unusual strain on the muscles, the +realization of a whole world of gold above and all about them, seemed +to strangle and enervate them. But steadily they kept on and on. + +The turning of the passage revealed a long, descending incline, that +sloped down at an angle of perhaps thirty degrees. A marked rise in +temperature grew noticeable. What might that mean? None could imagine, +but not one even thought of turning back. + +The walls and floor in this straight, descending passage were now no +longer smooth, arabesqued, polished. To the contrary, they showed a +rough surface, on which the marks of the chisel could be plainly seen +as it had shorn away the yielding metal in great gouges. Moreover, +streaks of black granite now began to appear; and these, as the +Legionaries advanced, became ever wider until at last the stone +predominated. + +The Master understood they were now coming to the bottom of part of +the golden dyke. Undeviated by the hard rock, the tunnel continued to +descend, with here and there a turn. Narrowly the Master scrutinized +the floor, tapping it with the simitar as he crept onward, seeking +indications of any possible trap that might hurl him into bottomless, +black depths. + +Quite at once, a right-angled turning opened into a small chamber not +above eight feet high by fifteen square. In this, silent, listening, +the sweating fugitives gathered. + +The temperature was here oppressive, and the lamps burned blue with +some kind of gas that stifled the lungs. Gas and smoke together, made +breathing hard. A dull, roaring sound had begun to make itself vaguely +audible, the past few minutes; and as the Legionaries stood listening, +this was now rather plain to their ears. + +"This is a devil of a place for a multi-millionaire, I must say!" +Bohannan exploded. Simonds laughed, with tense nerves. One or two +others swore, bitterly cursing the men of El Barr. + +The Master, "Captain Alden," and Leclair, however, gave no heed. +Already they were peering around, at the black walls where now only an +occasional thread of gold was to be seen. + +Five openings led out of this singular chamber, all equally dark, +narrow, formidable. + +"This seems to be a regular labyrinth, my Captain," said Leclair, in +French. "Surely a trap of some kind. They are clever, these Arabs. +They let the mouse run and hope, then--_voilŕ_--he is caught!" + +"It looks that way. But we're not caught yet. These infernal +passageways are all alike, to me. We must choose one. Well--this is as +good as any." He gestured toward an aperture at the left. "Men, follow +me!" + +The passage they now entered was all of rock, with no traces whatever +of gold. For a few hundred feet its course was horizontal; then it +plunged downward like the first. + +And almost immediately the temperature began to mount, once more. + +"Faith, but I think we'd better be getting back!" exclaimed the major. +"I don't care much for this heat, or that roaring noise that's getting +louder all the time!" + +"You'll follow me, or I'll shoot you down!" the Master flung at him, +crouching around. "I've had enough insubordination from _you_, sir! +Not another word!" + +The stooping little procession of trapped Legionaries once more went +onward, downward. The muffled roar, ahead of them, rose in volume as +they made a final turning and came into a much more spacious vault +where moisture goutted from the black walls. A thin, steamy vapor was +rising from the floor, warm to the bare feet. + +A moment the Legionaries stood there, blinking in the vague lamplight, +glad of the respite that permitted them to straighten up and ease +cramped muscles. + +"No way out of _here_!" Bohannan grumbled. "Sure, we're at the end o' +nowhere. Now if we'd only taken another passage--" + +Nobody paid him any heed. The major's exhibition of irrational greed +had lost caste for him. Even Lebon, the orderly, curled a lip of scorn +at him. + +All eyes were eagerly searching for some exit from this ultimate pit. +Panting, reeking with sweat, fouled with blood and dirt, the doomed +men shuffled round the vault, blinking with bloodshot eyes. + +No outlet was visible. The vault seemed empty. But all at once, +Bristol uttered a cry. + +"Wine-sacks, by the living jingo!" he exclaimed. + +"Wine-sacks--in a Moslem city?" demanded the Master. "Impossible!" + +"What else are these, sir?" the Englishman asked, pointing. + + +The Master strode to the corner where he stood, and flared his lamp +over a score of distended goat-hides. + +"Well, by Allah!" he ejaculated. + +"Sacrificial wine," put in Leclair, at his elbow. "See the red seals, +with the imprint of the star and crescent, here and here?" He touched +a seal with his finger. "Rare old wine, I'll wager!" + +"Wine!" gulped the major, whose excitable nerves had been frayed to +madness. "Wine, by God! Faith, but it's the royal thirst I have on me! +Who's got a knife?" + +The Master thrust him back with such violence that he slipped on the +wet floor and nearly fell. + +"You'll get no knife, sir, and you'll drink no sacrificial wine!" he +cried, with more of anger in his voice than any of the Legion had yet +heard. "The jewels--yes, I gave you your fool's way, on those. But no +wine! + +"We of the Flying Legion are going to die, sober men! There'll be no +debauchery--no tradition handed down among those Moslem swine that +they butchered us, drunk. If any of you men want to die right now, +broach one of those wine-sacks!" + +His simitar balanced itself for action. The glint in his eye, by the +wavering lamp-shine, meant stern business. Not a hand was extended +toward the tautly distended sacks. + +Bohannan's whispered curse was lost in a startled cry from Wallace. + +"Here's something!" he exclaimed. "Look at this ring, will you?" + +They turned to him, away from the wine-bags. Wallace had fallen to his +knees and was scraping slime from the wet floor--the slime of ages of +dust mingled with viscid moisture from the steam that, thinly blurring +the dark air, had condensed on the walls and run down. + +Emilio thrust down the lamp he held. There on the stone floor, they +saw a huge, rust-red iron ring that lay in a circular groove cut in +the black granite. + +This ring was engaged in a metal staple let into the stone. And now, +as they looked more closely, and as some Legionaries scraped the floor +with eager hands, a crack became visible in the floor of the vault. + +"Look out, men!" the Master cautioned. "This may be a trap that will +swing open and drop us into God knows what! Stand back, all--take your +time, now! Go slow there!" + +They heeded, and stood back. The Master himself, assuming all risks, +got down on hands and knees and explored the crack in the floor. It +was square, with a dimension of about five feet on the edge. + +"It's a trap-door, all right," he announced. "And we--are going to +open it!" + +"One would need a rope or a long lever to do that, my Captain," put +in Leclair. "It is obvious that a man, or men, standing on the trap, +could not raise it. And it is too large to straddle." + +The Master arose, stripped off his tunic and passed it through +the ring. He twisted the tunic and gave one end to the lieutenant. +Himself, he took the other. + +"Get hold, everybody!" he commanded. "And be sure you're not standing +on the trap!" + +All laid hold on the ends of the coat. With a "One, two, +three!" from the Master, the Legionaries threw all their muscle into +the lift. "Now, men! Heave her once more!" + +The stone gave. The Legionaries doubled their efforts, with panting +breath, feet that slipped on the dank floor, grunts of labor. + +"Heave her!" + +Up swung the stone, aside. It slid over the wet rock. There, in its +place, gaped a black hole that penetrated unknown depths. + +Steam billowed up--or rather, vapor distinctly warm to the touch. And +from very far below, much louder boomed the roar of rushing waters. +The Legionaries knew, now, what had caused the dull, roaring sound. +Unmistakably a furious cascade was boiling, swirling away, down there +at undetermined distances of blackness. + +The boldest men among the little group of fugitives felt the crawl and +fingering of a very great dread at their hearts. Behind them lay the +labyrinth, with what pitfalls none could tell and with the Jannati +Shahr men perhaps already penetrating into the crypt. Around them +loomed the black, wet walls of this lowest stone dungeon with but one +other exit--the pit at their feet. + +The Master threw himself prone on the slippery floor, took one of the +lamps and lowered it, by the chain, to its capacity. Smoke and vapor +arose about his head as he peered down. + +"Well, what is it?" demanded Bohannan, also squinting down, as he bent +over the hole. "What do you see?" + +"Nothing," the Master answered. "Nothing definite." + +He could, in fact, be sure of nothing. But it seemed to him that, very +far below, he could make out something like a swift, liquid blackness, +streaked with dim-speeding lines of white that dissolved with +phantasmagoric rapidity; a racing flood that roared and set the solid +rock a-quiver in its mad tumult. + +"Faith, an underground river of hot water!" ejaculated the Irishman +with an oath. "Some river!" + +"Warm water, at any rate," the Master judged, getting up again. A +strange smile was in his eyes, by the smoky lamplight. "Well, men, +this is our way out. The Arabs are not going to have any slaughter +of victims, here. And what is more, they'll capture no dead bodies +of white men, in _this_ trap! There'll be at least ten skulls missing +from that interesting golden Pyramid of Ayeshah!" + +"For God's sake!" the major stammered. "What--what are you going +to--do, now? Jump down that shaft?" + +"Exactly. Your perspicacity does you credit, Major." + +"Sure, you'll never catch _me_ jumping!" + +"Gentlemen," the Master said, in a low, quiet voice, "I regret to +state that we have one coward among us." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII + + +THE RIVER OF NIGHT + +The major's clenched fist was caught as it drove, by a scientific +guard from the Master's right. The Master dropped his lamp, and with a +straight left-hander sprawled Bohannan on the slimy pave. Impersonally +he stood over the crazed Celt. + +"Will you jump, voluntarily," demanded he, "or shall we be under the +painful necessity of having to throw you down that pit?" + +Enough rationality remained in the major to spur his pride. He crawled +to his feet, chastened. + +"You win, sir," he answered. "Who goes first?" + +A dull reverberation shuddered the rock, the air. + +"_Vive Nissr_!" exulted Leclair. "Ah, now our men, they attack the +city!" + +"I'm sorry to disillusion you," the Master answered, "but my explosive +produces an entirely different type of concussion. What we have just +heard is the blowing-in of the treasure-crypt door. There's no time to +lose, now. Who jumps, first?" + +"Wait a minute!" cried "Captain Alden." Her eyes were gleaming through +the mask, with keen excitement. "Why neglect any chance of possibly +surviving?" + +"What do you mean?" the Master demanded. + +"Those wine-sacks!" + +"Well?" + +"Emptied, inflated, and tied up again, they'll float us! It's the +oldest kind of device used in the Orient!" + +"By Allah, inspiration! Quick, men, the wine-skins!" + +Himself, he set the example. Knife in hand, while Emilio held the lamp +for him, he crumbled the seals on one of the goat-skins, then cut +the leather thong that secured the neck, and quickly unwound it. He +dragged the sack to the black pit and tipped it up. + +With a gulp and a gurgle, the precious old wine, clear ruby under the +dim light, gushed away down the steaming shaft that plunged to the +River of Night. + +"Oh, faith now, but that's a damned shame, sir!" Bohannan protested, +rubbing an ugly welt on his brow. His voice was thick, dull, +unnatural. Madness glimmered in his blinking eyes. "With the blessed +tongue of me parched to a cinder! And wine like that! Here, sir--take +a handful of diamonds, or whatever, and give me just one little +drink!" + +'"'Bristol! Restrain that man!" the Master ordered. "If you can't +handle him, get help!" + +As a couple of Legionaries laid hands on the major, another voice +spoke up. It was that of Ferrara, the Italian ace: + +"The major is right, sir, in spite of all! Good wine in our throats +would make death less bitter. 'We who are about to die, salute +thee'--and ask wine!" + +The Master peered sharply from beneath black brows. Discipline seemed +crumbling. Now at what might be, perhaps, the last minute of his +command, was the Master's word to be made light of? Were his orders to +be gainsaid? + +"No wine!" he flung at all of them, his voice tense as wire. "Who says +we are about to die? Why, there may be a fighting chance, even yet! +This underground river may come to light, somewhere. And if it does, +it may bear us back to day, again. + +"But the confusion of wine may just turn the scale against our getting +through. No wine! We started on that basis. That's the basis we're going +through on. No wine, I say--no wine!" + +Murmurs answered him, but no man dared rebel. Discipline still gripped +the Legionaries. The Master drove them to labor. "Come, quick now! +Prepare a sack, apiece! I'll show you how!" + +He set lips to the emptied skin, and with many lungfuls of strong +breath inflated it. The leather thong tightly wrapped the neck. He +doubled that neck over, and took more turns with the thong, then tied +it in a tight square knot. + +"Get to work, men!" he ordered. "To work!" + +They obeyed. Even the major, brain-shaken as he was, fell in with +the orders. The floor, all round the black pit, ran red with precious +wine, a single cupful of which would have delighted the heart of the +world's most Lucullian gourmet. + +Up from that floor and from the jetty, steaming walls of the pit +drifted ambrosial perfume that evoked visions of ancient vineyards +where, under the Eastern sun, bloomy clusters of grape--mayhap even +the very grape sung by the Tent-maker--hung ripening. + +Still, none stooped to the mouths of the wine-skins, to taste. None +drank from cupped palm. Dry-mouthed, hot, panting, the Legionaries +still obeyed. And thus the rare wine of Araby ran guttering to the +unseen blackness of the mystery river far below. + +The Master, hands on hips, watched this labor; and as he watched he +laughed. + +"Whatever comes to us, men," judged he, "we are here and now doing +great evil to the men of El Barr. My only regret is that we haven't +time to return up through the labyrinth, to the jewel-crypt, fill the +skins with jewels and dump them all down this shaft like the wine. +These Moslem swine would then remember us, many a long day. Ah, well, +some day we may come back--who knows?" + +He fell silent, while the last of the skins were being filled and +lashed. The last, that is to say, needed by the Legionaries. Ten in +all, were now blown up and securely tied. But a good many more still +remained full of the rare wine. + +With his simitar, the Master slashed these quickly, one by one. + +"They took our blood," he cried. "We have taken theirs--and their +wine, too. And have destroyed Myzab and the Black Stone, no doubt. +Well, it's a bargain!" + +"C'est égal!" exclaimed Leclair. "More than that, eh, my Captain?" + +The Master returned to the shaft, his bare feet red through the run +and welter of the wine on the stone floor. + +"Now men," said he, crisply, as he flung down the pit his simitar +which could have no further use, "this may be the final chapter. Our +Legion was organized for adventure. We've had it. No one can complain. +If it's good-bye, now--so be it. + +"There may be a chance, however, of winning through. Hold fast to +your goat-skins; and if the hidden river isn't too hot, and if there's +head-room, some of us may get through to daylight. Let us try to +reassemble where we find the first practicable stopping-place. If the +Jannati Shahr men are waiting for us, there, don't be taken alive. +Remember! + +"Now, give me your hand, each one, and--down the shaft with you!" + +Simonds went first, boldly, without a quiver of fear. Silently and +with set jaw, he shook hands with the Master, clutched a distended +wine-bag in both arms, and quickly leaped. + +His body vanished, instantly, from sight. Steam and darkness swallowed +it. Far below, a dull splash told of his disappearance. + +Lebon followed, after having given his torture-twisted hand to his +beloved lieutenant, as well as to the Master. + +"Notre Pčre qui ętes aux cieux!" he stammered, as the pit received +him. + +Then went Wallace, Ferrara, and Emilio. Of these three, only the last +showed anything resembling the white feather. Emilio's face was waxen, +with staring eyes reflecting unspeakable horror, as he took the leap +into the River of Night. But he went mutely, with no outcry. + +Bristol, sheathed in imperturbable British aplomb, remarked: + +"Well, so long, boys! This is jolly beastly, eh? But we'll meet on +that beautiful shore!" + +Then he, too, jumped into the black. + +Leclair, inappropriately enough, leaped with a shout of: "Vive la +France!" + +Now only Bohannan, "Captain Alden," and the Master were left. + +"You're next, Major!" the Master ordered, pointing at +the inexorable black mouth of the pit, whence rose the thin, +wraith-spirals of vapor. + +"I'm ready!" exclaimed the major. "Sure, what's better than a hot bath +after the heavy exercise we've been having?" His voice rose buoyantly +over the drumming roar of the mysterious, underground torrent. "Ready, +sir! But if you'll only give me one wee sup of good liquor, sir, I'll +die like an Irishman and a gentleman--of fortune!" + +"No, liquor, Major," the Master answered, shaking his head. "Can't you +see for yourself all the wine-sacks are cut?" + +"Cut, is it? Well, well, so they are!" The major blinked redly. +Obviously his confused mind had not grasped the situation. "Well, +sure, that's a pity, now." And he fell to gnawing that tawny mustache +of his. + +"Come Major, you're next!" the Master bade him. "Take your wine-skin +and jump!" + +Clarity of mind for a moment returned to Bohannan. Gallantly he shook +hands with the Master, saluted "Captain Alden," and picked up his +wine-sack. + +"It's a fine whirl we've had," he affirmed, with one of his old-time +smiles, his teeth gleaming by the light of the silver lamp in the +Master's hand. "No man could ask a better." + +I'd rather have seen what I've seen, and done what I've done, and now +jump to Hell and gone, than be safe and sound this minute on Broadway. + +"Please overlook any little irregularities of conduct, sir My brain, +you know, and--well, good-bye!" + +Calmly he picked up his sack and without more ado jumped into the +void. + +"Now," said the Master, when "Captain Alden" and he remained alone. +"Now--you and I!" + +"Yes," the woman answered. "You and I, at last!" + +The Master set down his lamp on the floor all wet with condensed vapor +and wine. He loosened the buckles of her mask, took the mask off and +tossed it into the pit. + +"Finis, for _that_!" said he, and smiled strangely. "You aren't going +to be handicapped by any mask, in whatever struggle lies ahead of us. +If you get through to the world, and to life again, you get through as +a woman. + +"If not, you die as one. But the disguise is done with, and gone. You +understand me!" + +"Yes. I understand," she answered, and stood peering up at him. Not +even the white welts and ridges cut in her flesh by the long wearing +of the mask could make her face anything but very beautiful. Her +wonderful eyes mirrored far more, as they looked into this strange +man's, than would be easy to write down in words. + +"I understand," she repeated. "If this is death, I couldn't have +dreamed or hoped for a better one. In that, at least, we can be +eternally together--you and I!" + +Silence fell, save for the shuddering roar of the black river, that +rose with vapors from the dark pit. Man and woman, they searched out +each other's souls with their gaze. + +Then all at once the Master took her hand, and brought it to his heart +and held it there. The lamp-shine, obliquely striking upward from the +floor, cast deep shadows over their faces; and these shadows seemed +symbolic of the shadows of death closing about them at this hour of +self-revelation. + +"Listen," said the Master, in a wholly other voice from any that +had ever come from his lips. "I am going to tell you something. At a +moment like this, a man speaks only the exact truth. This is the exact +truth. + +"In all the years of my life and in all my wanderings up and down this +world, I have never seen a woman--till now--whom I felt that I could +love. I have lived like an anchorite, celled in absolute isolation +from womankind. Incredible as it may seem to you, I have never even +kissed a woman, with a kiss of love. But--I am going to kiss you, +now." + +He took her face in both his hands, drew it up for a moment, gazed +at it with a fixity of passion that seemed to burn. The woman's eyes +drooped shut. Her lips yearned to his. Then his stern arms in-drew her +to his breast, and for a moment she remained there, silently. + +All at once he put her from him. + +"Now, go!" he commanded. "I shall follow, close. And wait for me--if +there is any waiting!" + +He picked up one of the two remaining wine-sacks, and put it into her +hands. + +"Cling to this, through everything!" he commanded. "Cling, as you love +life. Cling, as you share my hope for what may be, if life is granted +us! And--the mercy-bullet, if it comes to that! + +"Now--good-bye!" + +She smiled silently and was gone. + +The Master, now all alone, stood waiting yet a moment. His face was +bloodless. His lower lip was mangled, where his teeth had nearly met, +through it. + +Already, a confused murmur of sound was developing, from the black +opening of the passage that had led the Legionaries down to this crypt +of the wine-sacks and the pit. + +He smiled, oddly. + +"Many a corpse has been flung down this _oubliette_," said he. "I hate +to go, without emptying my pistol into a few more of the Moslem swine, +and dropping them down here to join my people. But--I must!" + +He bent, gathered together the silver lamps left by his men, and threw +them all into the abyss. Blackness, absolute, blotted the reeking +chamber from his sight. + +The faintest possible aura of light began to loom from the mouth +of the passage. More distinctly, now, the murmur of Arab voices was +becoming audible. + +The Master leaped. + +Far below, at the bottom of the pit, as the Arabs burst into the +wine-vault, sounded a final impact of some heavy body striking swift +water that swept it instantly away. + +Then silence filled the black, rock-hewn chamber in the labyrinthine +depths of Jannati Shahr. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX + + +THE DESERT + +The Desert. + +Four men, one woman. + +Save for these five living creatures, all was death. All was that +great emptiness which the Arabs call "La Siwa Hu"--that is to say, the +land "where there is none but He." + +Over terrible spaces, over immense listening silences of hard, +unbroken dunes extending in haggard desolation to fantastic horizons +of lurid ardor, hung a heat-quivering air of deathlike stillness. +Redder than blood, a blistering sun-ball was losing itself behind far, +iron hills of black basalt. A flaming land it was, naked and bare, +scalped and flayed to the very bones of its stark skeleton. + +Heavily, and with the dazed look of beings who feel themselves lost +yet still are driven by the life within them to press on, the five +fugitives--pitiable handful of the Legion--were plodding south-west, +toward the sunset. + +The feet of all were cut and bleeding, in spite of rags torn from +their tattered uniforms and bound on with strips of cloth; for +everywhere through the sand projected ridges of vertical, sharp +stone--the black basalt named by the Arabs _Hajar Jehannum_, or "Rock +of Hell." As for their uniforms, though now dry as bone, the way in +which they were shrunken and wrinkled told that not long ago they had +been drenched in water of strongly mordant qualities. + +Each figure bore, on its bent back, a goat-skin bag as heavily filled +with water as could be carried. Strongly alkaline as that water was, +corroding to the mouth and nauseous to the taste, still the refugees +were clinging to it. For only this now stood between them and one +of the most hideous deaths known to man--the death of thirst in the +wilderness. + +The woman's face, in spite of pain, anxiety, weariness, retained +its beauty. Her heavy masses of hair, bound up with cloth strips, +protected her head from "the great enemy," the sun. As for the others, +they had improvised rough headgear from their torn shirts, ingeniously +tied into some semblance of _cherchias_. Above all, the Legionaries +knew that they must guard their heads from the direct rays of the +desert sun. + +In silence, all plodded on, on, toward the bleeding sphere that, now +oblate through flaming mists, was mercifully sinking to rest. No look +of surprise marked the face of any man, that "Captain Alden" was in +reality a woman. The Legionaries' anguish, the numbing, brutalizing +effects of their recent experience had been too great for any minor +emotions to endure. They had accepted this fact like all others, as +one of a series of incredible things that had, none the less, been +true. + +For a certain time the remnant of the Legion dragged itself +south-westward, panting, gasping, wasting no breath in speech. Leclair +was first to utter words. + +"Let us rest a little while, _mon capitaine_," said he in a hoarse, +choking voice. "Rest, and drink again. I know the desert. Many +hundreds of miles lie between us and the coast. Nothing can be gained +by hastening, at first. All may be lost. Let us rest, at all events, +until that cursed sun has set!" + +In silence the Master cast down his water-bag, at the bottom of the +little, desolate valley of gravel through which the fugitives were now +toiling. All did the same, and all sat down--or rather, fell--upon the +hot earth. + +Very different, now, this land was from what it had seemed as they +had soared above it, at cool altitudes, in the giant air-liner; very +different from the cool, green plain of El Barr, behind the grim black +line of the Iron Mountains now a dim line off to eastward. + +The sprawling collapse of the Legionaries told more eloquently than +any words the exhaustion that already, after only four hours' trek, +was strangling the life out of them. + +For a while they lay there motionless, unthinking, brutalized by +fatigue and pain. With their present condition as an earnest of what +was yet to come, what hope had any that even one of them would live to +behold the sparkle of the distant Red Sea? Even though unmolested by +pursuit from Jannati Shahr or by attack from any wandering tribes of +the Black Tent People, what hope could there be? + +Gradually some coherence of thought returned to the Master. He sat up, +painfully, and blinked with reddened eyes at the woman. She was lying +beside her water-bag, seemingly asleep. The Master's face drew into +lines of anguish as he looked at her. + +With bruised fingers he loosened the thong of his own water-bag, and +tore still another strip from his remnant of shirt. He poured a little +of the precious water on to this rag, lashed the water-sack tight +again, and with the warm, wet rag bathed the woman's face, brow, and +throat. + +Her closed lids did not open. No one paid any attention. No one +even stirred. The cloth grew dry, almost at once, as the thirsty air +absorbed its moisture. The Master pocketed it. Elbows on knees, head +between hands, he sat there pondering. + +In thought he was living over again the incredible events of the +past hours, as they had been presented to his own experience. He was +remembering the frightful, dizzying plunge down the black pit into the +steaming waters of the River of Night--waters which, had they been but +a few degrees hotter, would incontinently have ended everything on the +instant. + +He was recalling, as in a nightmare, his frenzied battle for life, +clinging to the inflated goat-skin--the whirl and thunder of +unseen cataracts in the blind dark--the confusion of deafening, +incomprehensible violences. + +He was bringing back to mind the long, swift, smooth rushing of mighty +waters through midnight caverns where echoes had told of a rock-roof +close above; then, after an indeterminate time of horror that might +have been minutes or hours, a weltering maelstrom of leaping waters--a +graying of light on swift-fleeing walls; a sudden up-boiling gush of +the strangling flood that whelmed him--and all at once a glare of +sun, a river broadening out through palm-groves far beyond the Iron +Mountains. + +All these things, blurred, unreal, heartshaking as evil visions of +fever, the Master was remembering. Then came other happenings: a +long drift with resistless currents, the strange phenomenon of the +lessening stream that dwindled as thirsty sands absorbed it, and the +ceasing of the palms. + +Last of all, the river had diminished to a shallow, tortuous delta, +where the Master's numbed feet had touched bottom. There he had +dragged himself ashore, with his goatskin, far more dead than living. +And there, for a time he knew not, consciousness had wholly ceased. + +A dull, toneless voice sounded in the Master's ears. Bohannan was +speaking. + +"Faith, but it's strange how even the five of us found each other, out +there in the sand," said the major. "What happened to the rest of us, +God knows--maybe!" He choked, coughed, added: "Or to the boys with +Nissr. God rest their souls! I wish I had a sackful of that wine!" +After a long pause: "Don't you, now? What?" + +The Master gave no heed. He was trying to ease the position in which +the woman was lying. His jacket was off, now, and he was folding it to +put under her head. + +At his touch, she opened vague eyes. She smiled with dry lips, and put +his hand away. + +"No, no!" she protested. "No special favors for me! I'm not a woman, +remember. I'm 'Captain Alden,' still--only a Legionary!" + +"But--" + +"If you favor me in any way, to the detriment of any of the others +or your own, I won't go on! I'm just one of you. Just one of the +survivors, on even terms with the rest. It's give-and-take. I mean +that! You've got to understand me!" + +The Master nodded. He knew that tone. Silently he put on his jacket, +again. + +The lieutenant's orderly, Lebon, groaned and muttered a prayer to the +Virgin. Leclair sat up, heavily, and blinked with sand-inflamed eyes. + +"Time to drink again, _n'est-ce pas_, my Captain?" asked he. "Drink to +the dead!" + +"I hope they are dead, rather than prisoners!" exclaimed the Master. +"Yes, we'll drink, and get forward. We've got to make long strides, +tonight. Those Jannati Shahr devils may be after us, tomorrow. Surely +will, if they investigate that delta and find only a few bodies. +They'll conclude some of us have got through. And if they pick up our +trail, with those white dromedaries of theirs--" + +"The sacred pigs!" ejaculated Leclair. "Ah, _messieurs_, now you begin +to know the Arabs as I have long known them." With eyes of hate and +pain he peered back at the darkening line of the Iron Mountains. + +Bohannan, already loosening the neck of his goat-skin, laughed +hoarsely. + +"No wine!" he croaked, "and the water's rationed; even the stinking +water. But the food isn't--good reason, too; there isn't any. Pockets +full of gems!" He slapped one hard pocket. "I'd swap the lot for a +proper pair of shoes and a skin o' that wine! Faith--that wine, now--" + +The woman suddenly sat up, too, one hand on the hot gravel, the other +raised for silence. + +"Hark!" she whispered. "Sh!" + +"What now?" demanded the Master. + +"Bells! Camel-bells!" + +"_Nom d'un, nom!_" And the lieutenant drew his gun. + +The five fugitives stiffened for another battle. They looked well to +their weapons. The Master's weariness and pain were forgotten as he +crawled on hands and knees up the side of the little wady. The sound +of distant camel-bells, a thin, far quiver of sound, had now reached +his ears and those of the other men, less sensitive than the woman's. + +Over the edge of the wady he peered, across a _wa'ar_, or stony ground +covered with mummified scrub. Beyond, a blanched salt-plain gleamed +hoar-white in the on-coming dusk; and farther off, the dunes began +again. + +Strangely enough, the Master laughed. He turned and beckoned, +silently. The others joined him. + +"From the west!" he whispered. "This is no pursuit! It is a caravan +going to Jannati Shahr!" + +Bohannan chuckled, and patted his revolver. + +"Faith, but Allah is being good to us!" he muttered. "Now, when it +comes to a fight--" + +"Ten dromedaries--no, nine--" Leclair judged. + +"And six camel-drivers," put in the woman, gun in hand. "A small +caravan!" + +"Hold your fire, all!" commanded the Master. "They're headed right +across this wady. Wait till I give the word; then rush them! And--no +prisoners!" + + + + +CHAPTER L + + +"WHERE THERE IS NONE BUT ALLAH" + +An hour after sundown, four Legionaries pushed westward, driving the +gaunt, mange-stained camels. In the sand near the wady lay buried +Leclair and all the camel-drivers, with the sand smoothed over them so +as to leave as little trace as possible. + +Leclair had come to the death of all deaths he would have most +abominated, death by ruse at the hands of an Arab. Not all his long +experience with Arabs had prevented him from bending over a dead +camel-driver. The dead man had suddenly revived from his feigned death +and driven a _jambiyeh_ into the base of the lieutenant's throat. That +the lieutenant's orderly had instantly shattered the cameleer's skull +with a point-blank shot had not saved Leclair. + +The four survivors, in addition to burying all the bodies, had buried +the copper bars the caravan had been freighting to Jannati Shahr. +They had saved the scant food and water of the drivers, also their +clothing, slippers, daggers, long rifles, and ammunition. + +Now, dressed like Arabs--the best of all disguises in case of being +sighted by pursuers or by wandering Black Tent tribes, from far +off--they were trekking westward again, riding four of the camels and +leading the others. + +For a week of Hell the failing beasts, already half dead of thirst +when captured, bore them steadily south-west, toward the coast. Twice +there rose spirals of smoke, in the desert distances; but whether +these were from El Barr pursuers or were merely Bedouin encampments +they could not tell. + +Merciless goading kept the camels going till they dropped dead, one by +one. + +By the end of the fourth day only three remained. Lebon methodically +cut up every one that perished, for water, but found none in any +stomach. + +The fugitives sighted no oasis. They found no wady other than +stone-dry. By day they slept, by night pushed forward. Day by day +they grew weaker and less rational. The increasing nerve-strain that +possessed them was companioned by the excruciating torture of their +bodies racked by the swaying jolt of camel-riding. + +But they still kept organization and coherence. Still, guided by +the stars that burned with ardent trembling in the black sky, they +followed their chosen course. + +Morning heat-mist, noontide glare, wind like a beast with flaming +breath, a sky terrible in its stainless beauty, an inescapable +sun-furnace that seemed to boil the brains in their skulls--all these +and the mockery of mirages that made every long white line of salt +efflorescence a lake of cooling waters, brought the four tortured +Legionaries close to death. + +Awaking toward evening of the fifth day, the Master discovered one of +the three camels gone--the one on which he had been riding with the +woman, lest she fall fainting to the sand. With this camel, Major +Bohannan had likewise disappeared. His big-shouldered, now emaciated +figure in its dirty-white burnous was nowhere visible. Only prints of +soft hoof-pads, leading off to north-eastward, betrayed the line of +flight. + +The Master pondered a while as he sat there, dazed, blinking at the +desert all purple, gold, and tawny-red. His inflamed eyes, stubbly +beard and gaunt cheeks made him a caricature of the man he had been, +ten days before. After a little consideration, he awakened the woman +and Lebon. + +The verdict on Bohannan was madness, mirage, desertion. + +For two days the major had been babbling of wine and water, been +beholding things that were not, been hurling jewels at imaginary +vultures. Now, well, the desert had got him. + +To pursue would have been insanity. They got the two remaining camels +up, by dint of furious beating and of hoarse eloquence in Arabic +from the Master and Lebon. Once more, knowing themselves doomed, they +pushed into the eye of the flaming west, over the savage gorgeousness +of the Empty Abodes. In less than an hour the double-laden camel fell +to its knees and incontinently died. + +Lebon dismounted from the one surviving animal, and stepped fair into +a scorpion's nest. The horrible little gray creature, striking up over +its back with spiked tail, drove the deadly barb half an inch into the +orderly's naked ankle. + +The Master scarified, sucked, and cauterized the wound. Nothing +availed. Lebon, in his depleted condition, could not fight off the +poison. Thirty minutes later, swollen and black, he died in a frothing +spasm, his last words a hideous imprecation on the Arabs who had +enslaved and tortured him-a curse on the whole race of Moslems. + +Shaken with horror, the woman and the man buried Lebon, loaded the +remaining water-bags, the guns and food on to the one camel and +dragged themselves away on foot, driving the spent beast. Obviously +this camel could not go far. Blindness had stricken it, and its black +lips were retracted with the parch of thirst. + +They gave it half a skin of water, and goaded it along with +desperation. Everything now depended on this camel. Even though +it could not carry them, it could bear the burden of their scant +supplies. Without it, hope was lost. + +All that night they drove the tortured camel. It fell more and more +often. The Master spared it not. For on its dying strength depended +the life of the woman he loved. + +The camel died an hour before dawn. Not even vultures wheeled across +the steely sky. The Master cut from its wasted flanks a few strips of +meat and packed them into one of the palm-stick baskets that had held +the cameleers' supplies. With them he packed all the remaining food--a +few lentils, a little goat's-milk cheese, and a handful of dates fried +in clarified butter. + +This basket, with a revolver and a handful of cartridges, also the +extra slippers taken from Leclair and the orderly, made all the burden +the woman could carry. The Master's load, heavier far, was one of the +water-skins. + +This load, he knew, would rapidly lighten. As it should diminish, +faster than the woman's, he would take part of hers. Thus, as best +they could, they planned the final stage of their long agony. + +Before starting again, they sat a while beside the gaunt, mangled +camel, held council of war and pledged faith again. They drank a +little of the mordant water that burned the throat and seemed in no +wise to relieve the horrible thirst that blackened their lips and +shriveled all their tissues. + +"I think," the Master gasped, "we can make an hour or so before the +sun gets too bad." He squinted at the crimson and purple banderoles +of cloud through which, like the eye of a fevered Cyclops, the sun was +already glowering. Already the range of obsidian hills ahead of them, +the drifted sands all fretted with wind-waves, the whole iron plain of +the desert was quivering with heat. "Every hour counts, now. Before we +start, let us agree to certain things." + +She nodded silently, crouching beside him on the sand. He drew an +emaciated arm about her and for a moment peered down into her face. +But he did not kiss her. A kiss, as they both were--some fine delicacy +of the soul seemed telling him--would have been mockery. + +"Listen," he commanded. "We must strictly ration the food and water. +You must help me keep to that ration. I will help you. We must be +careful about scorpions. Above all, we must beware of mirages. You +understand?" + +"I understand," she whispered. + +"If either of us sees palms or water, that one must immediately +tell the other. Then, if the other does not also see them, that is a +mirage. We must not turn aside for anything like that, unless we both +see it. I am speaking rationally, now that I can. Remember what I +say!" + +Silently she nodded. He went on: + +"Now that we can still think, we must weigh every contingency. Our +only hope lies in our helping each other. Alone, either of us will +be led away by mirages in a little while. That kind of death must be +spared us. We both live or die, together." + +She smiled faintly, with parched lips. + +"Do you think I would leave you," she asked, "any more than you would +leave me? The pact is binding." + +He pressed her hand. + +"Come," said he. "Let us go!" + +Once more they got to their feet, and set out to south-westward, over +a scorching plain of crumbling, nitrous mud-flakes. Laden as they +were, they could barely shuffle one foot after the other. But blessed +lapses of consciousness now and then relieved their agony. + +Conscious or not, the life within them drove them onward, ever onward; +slow, crawling things that all but blindly moved across the land of +death, _La Siwa Hu_--"where there is none but Allah." + + + + +CHAPTER LI + + +TORTURE + +How that day passed, they knew not. Nature is kind. When agony grows +too keen, the All-mother veils the tortured body with oblivion. + +Over blood-colored stretches swept by the volcano-breath of the +desert, through acacia barrens and across basaltic ridges the two +lonely figures struggled on and on. They fell, rested, slept a +nightmare sleep under the furious heat, got up again and dragged +themselves once more along. + +Now they were conscious of plains all whitened with saltpeter, now of +scudding sand-pillars--wind-_jinnee_ of the Empty Abodes--that danced +and mocked them. Again, one or the other beheld paradisical, gleaming +lakes, afar. + +But though they had lost the complete rationality that would have +bidden them lie quiet all day, and trek only at night, they still +remembered the pact of the mirages. And since never both beheld the +same lake, they held each other from the fatal madness that had slain +Bohannan. + +Their only speech was when discussing the allurements of beckoning +waters which were but air. + +At nightfall, toiling up over the lip of a parched, chalky _nullah_ +that sunset turned to amethyst, a swarm of howling Arabs suddenly +attacked them. The Master flung himself down, and fired away all +his ammunition, in frenzy. The woman, catching his contagion, did +likewise. + +No shots came back; and suddenly the Arabs vanished from the man's +sight. When he stumbled forward to the place where they had been, he +discovered no dead bodies, not even a footprint. + +Nothing was there but a clump of acacias, their twisted thorns parched +white. They had been shooting at only fantasms of their own brains. +Now, even the mercy-bullets were gone. + +Bitterly the man cursed himself, as he thrust the now useless pistol +back into its holster. The woman, however, smiled with dry lips, and +from her belt took out a little, flattened piece of lead--the bullet +which, fired at _Nissr_ from near the Ka'aba, had fallen at her feet +and been picked up by her as a souvenir. + +"Here is a bullet," said she chokingly. "You can cut this in two and +shape it. We can reload two shells with some of the Arab powder. It +will do!" + +They laughed irrationally. More than half mad as they now were, +neither one thought of the fact that they had no percussion-caps. + +Still laughing, they sat down in the hot sand, near the clawlike +distortions of the acacias. Consciousness lapsed. They slept. The +sun's anger faded; and a steel moon, long after, slid up the sky. + +Next day, many miles to south-westward of the acacias, Kismet--toying +with them for its own delectation--respited them a little while by +stumbling them on to a deserted oasis. They turned aside to this only +after a long, irrational discussion. The fact that they could both +see the same thing, and that they had really come to palm trees--trees +they could touch and feel--gave them fresh courage. + +Little enough else they got there. The cursed place, just a huddle of +blind, mud huts under a dozen sickly trees, had been swept clean some +time ago by the passage of a swarm of those voracious locusts known as +_jarad Iblis_ (the locusts of Satan). + +Nothing but bare branches remained in the _nakhil_, or grove. Nothing +at all was to be found in the few scrubby fields about the well now +choked with masses of the insects. Whoever the people of this squalid +settlement had been, all were gone. The place was almost as bare as if +the sun's flames, themselves, had flared down and licked the village +to dust and ashes. + +All the sufferers found, of any worth, was a few handfuls of dry dates +in one of the hovels and a water-jar with about two quarts of brackish +water. + +This water the Master discovered, groping half blind through the hut. +Stale as it was, it far surpassed the strongly chemicalized water of +the River of Night, still remaining in the goat-skin. It smote him +with the most horrible temptation of his life. All the animal in his +nature, every parched atom of his body shouted. + +"Take it! Drink, drink your fill! She will never know. Take it, and +drink!" + +He seized the water-jar, indeed, but only to carry it with shaking +hands to her, where she lay in the welcome shadow of the hut. His lips +were black with thirst as he raised her head and cried to her: + +"Here is water--real water! Drink!" + +She obeyed, hardly more than half conscious. He gave her all he dared +to have her drink at once, nearly half. Then he set down the jar, +loosened the sack from his shoulders which were cut raw with the +chafing of the thongs, and bathed her face with a little of that other +water which, though bad, still might keep life in them. + +"This may be an insane waste," he was thinking, "but it will help +revive her. And--maybe--we shall find another, better oasis." + +Out across the plain he peered, over the sun-dried earth, out into the +distances shrouded with purple mists. His blurred eyes narrowed. + +"Why, my God! There's one, now!" he muttered. "A green +one--cool--fresh--" + +The Master laid the woman down again in the shadow, got up and +staggered out into the blinding sun. He tottered forward, laughing +hoarsely. + +"Cool--_fresh_--" The words came from between parched lips. + +All at once the oasis faded to a blur in the brilliant tapestry of the +desert that beckoned: "Come to me--and die!" + +The Master recoiled, hands over eyes, mouthing unintelligible words. +Back beside the woman he crouched, fighting his own soul to keep it +from madness. Then he heard her voice, weak, strange: + +"Have you drunk, too?" + +"Of course!" + +"You are not--telling me the truth." + +"So help me God!" His fevered lips could hardly form the words. +"There, in the hut--I drank. All I needed." + +She grew silent. His conscience lapsed. They lay as if dead, till +almost evening, under the shelter of the blessed shadow. + +The rest, even in that desolation, put fresh life into them. At +nightfall they bound up their feet again, ate the dry dates and again +set their blistered faces toward the Red Sea. + +The woman's basket was now light, indeed, across her shoulders. Not +all her begging had induced the Master to let her carry the water-jug +there. This, too, he was carrying. + +All night long, stopping only when one or the other fell, they +ploughed over basalt and hornblende schist that lacerated their feet, +over blanched immensities under the steel moon, across grim, black +ridges and through a basin of clay, circled by hills. + +Strange apparitions mocked and mowed before them, but grimly they gave +no heed. This, they both realized in moments of lucidity, was the last +trek. Either they must find the sea, before another night, or madness +would sink its fangs into their brains. And madness meant--the end. + +Their whole consciousness was pain. This pain localized itself +especially in their heads, round which some _jinnee_ of the waste had +riveted red-hot iron bands. There was other pain, too, in the limping +feet cased in the last of the _babooches_, now stiffened with blood. +And in the throat and lungs, what was this burning? + + + + +CHAPTER LII + + +"Thálassa! Thálassa!" + +Another of those horrible, red mornings, with a brass circle of +horizon flaming all around in the most extraordinary fireworks topped +by an azure zenith, found them still crawling south-westwards making +perhaps a mile an hour. + +Disjointed words and sentences kept framing themselves in the man's +mind; above all, a sentence he had read long ago in Greek, somewhere. +Where had he read that? Oh, in Xenophon, of course. In _The Retreat of +the Ten Thousand._ The Master gulped it aloud, in a dead voice: + +"Most terrible of all is--the desert--for it is full-of a great want." + +After a while he knew that he was trying to laugh. + +"A great want!" he repeated. "A great--" + +Presently it was night again. + +The Master's mind cleared. Yes, there was the woman, lying in the sand +near him. But where was the date-stick basket? Where was the last of +the food? He tried to think. + +He could remember nothing. But reason told him they must have eaten +the last of the food and thrown the basket away. His shoulders felt +strangely light. What was this? The water-bag was gone, too? + +But that did not matter. There had been only a little of that +chemicalized water left, anyhow. Perhaps they had drunk it all, or +bathed their faces and necks with it. Who could tell? The water-sack +was gone; that was all he knew. + +A great fear stabbed him. The water-jar! Was that still on his back? +As he felt the pull of a thong, and dragged the jar around so that he +could blink at it, a wonderful relief for a moment deadened his pain. + +"_Allah isélmak!_" he croaked, blessing the scant water the jar still +held. He realized the woman was looking at him. + +"Water!" he whispered. "Let us drink again--and go on!" + +She nodded silently. He loosed the thong, took the jar and peered into +its neck, gauging the small amount of water still there. Then he held +it to her lips. + +She seemed to be drinking, but only seemed. Frowning, as she finished, +he once more squinted into the jar with bleared eyes. His voice was +even, dull, ominous as he accused: + +"You drank nothing. You are trying to save water for me!" + +She shook her head in negation, but he penetrated the lie. His teeth +gleamed through his stubble of beard, and his eyes glinted redly under +the hood of his ragged burnous as he cried: + +"Will you drink?" + +"I tell you--I have drunk!" + +Slowly he tilted the jar toward the thirsty sands. + +"Drink, now, or I pour all this on the ground!" + +Beaten, she extended a quivering hand. They shared the last of the +water. The man took less than a third. Then they set out again on the +endless road of pain. + +Was it that same day, or the next, that the man fell and could not +rise again? The woman did not know. Something had got into her brain +and was dancing there and would not stop; something blent of sun +and glare, sand, mirage, torturing thirst. There was a little gray +scorpion, too--but no, _that_ had been crushed to a pulp by the man's +heel. Or had it not? Well-- + +The man! Was there a man? Where was he? Here, of course, on the baked +earth. + +As she cradled his head up into her lap and drew the shelter of her +burnous over it, she became rational again. Her hot, dry hand caressed +his face. After a while he was blinking up at her. + +"Bara Miyan! Violator of the salt!" he croaked, and struck at +her feebly. And after another time, she perceived that they were +staggering on and on once more. + +The woman wondered what had happened to her head, now that the sun had +bored quite through. Surely that must make a difference, must it not? + +A jackal barked. But this, they knew, must be illusion. + +No jackals lived so far from any habitation of mankind. The man +blinked into the glare, across which sand-devils of whirlwinds were +once more gyrating over a whiteness ending in dunes that seemed to be +peppered with camel-grass. + +Another mirage! Grass could grow only near the coast. And now that +they had both been tortured to death by Jannati Shahr men and been +flung into Jehannum, how could there be any coast? It seemed so +preposterous. + +It was all so very simple that the man laughed--silently. + +Where had that woman gone to? Why, he thought there surely had been a +woman with him! But now he stood all alone. This was very strange. + +"I must remember to ask them if there wasn't a woman," thought he. +"This is an extraordinary place! People come and go in such a manner!" + +The man felt a dull irritation, and smeared the sand out of his eyes. +How had that sand got there? Naturally, from having laid on one of +those dunes. There seemed to be no particular reason for lying on +a dune, under the fire-box of an engine, so the man sat up and kept +blinking and rubbing his eyes. + +"This is the best mirage, yet," he reflected. "The palms look real. +And the water--it sparkles. Those white blotches--one would say they +were houses!" + +Indifferent, yet interested, too, in the appearance of reality, +the man remained sitting on the dune, squinting from under his torn +burnous. + +The mirage took form as a line of dazzling white houses along a sea of +cobalt and indigo. And to add to the reality of the mirage, some miles +away, he could see two boats with sails all green and blue from the +reflection of the luster of the water. + +The man's eyes fell. He studied his feet. They were naked, now, cut +to the bone, caked with blood and sand. Odd, that they did not hurt. +Where were his babooches? He seemed to remember something about having +taken some ragged ones from the feet of some woman or other, a very +long time ago, and having bound his own upon her mangled feet. + +"I'll ask the people in those houses, down there," thought he; and on +hands and knees started to crawl down the slope of the dunes toward +the dazzling white things that looked like houses. + +Something echoed at the back of his brain: + +"_You must ask her if this is real! Unless you both see it, you must +not go!_" + +He paused. "There was a woman, then!" he gasped. "But--where is she +now?" + +Realization that she had disappeared sobered him. He got up, groped +with emaciated hands before his face as he turned back away from the +white houses and stumbled eastward. + +All at once he saw something white lying on the sand, under a cooking +glare of sunlight. Memory returned. He fell on his knees beside the +woman and caught her up in quivering arms. + +After a while, he noticed there was blood on her left arm. Blood, in +the bend of the elbow, coagulated there. + +This puzzled him. All he could think was that she might have cut +herself on her _jambiyeh_, when she had fallen. He did not know then, +nor did he ever know, that he himself had fallen at this spot; that +she had thought him dying; that she had tried to cut her arm and give +him her blood to drink; that she had fainted in the effort. Some last +remnants of strength welled up in him. He stooped, got her across his +shoulder, struggled to his feet and went staggering up the dune. + +Here he paused, swaying drunkenly. + +Strange! The very same mirage presented itself to his eyes--blue +sails, turquoise sea, feathery palms, white houses. + +"By God!" he croaked. "Mirages--they don't last, this way! That's +real--that's real water, by the living God!" + +Up from dark profundities of tortured memory arose the cry of +Xenophon's bold Greeks when, after their long torment, they had of +a sudden fronted blue water. At sight of the little British consular +station of Batn el Hayil, on the Gulf of Farsan: + +"_Thálassa!_" he cried. "_Thálassa, thálassa!_" (The sea, the sea!) + + + + +CHAPTER LIII + + +THE GREATER TREASURE + +New York, months later. + +Spring had long departed--the spring of the year in which the Eagle of +the Air had flung itself aloft from the Palisades, freighted with such +vast hopes. + +Summer was past and gone. The sparkling wine of autumn had already +begun to bubble in the cup of the year. + +Sunset, as when this tale began. Sunset, bronzing the observatory of +_Niss'rosh_, on top of the huge skyscraper. + +Two of the Legionaries--a woman and a man--were watching that sunset +from the western windows of that room where first had been conceived +the wonder-flight which had spelled death for so many a stout heart. + +You could see great changes had come upon the man, as he paced slowly +up and down the singular room, hands deep in the pockets of his +riding-trousers. His hair was grayer, for one thing, his face leaner; +a certain sinewy strength had come to him that had not been there +before. + +Some marks of suffering still remained on him, that not all of life +could take away. His eyes looked deeper and more wise, his mouth more +human in its smile. That he had learned to smile, at all, meant much. +And the look in his eyes, as he glanced at the woman, meant vastly +more. Yes, this man had learned infinitely much. + +From a big, bamboo Chinese chair the woman was watching him. + +Her eyes were musing, reminiscent. Her riding-costume well became her; +and by the flush on her cheek you might have guessed they had both +just come in from a long gallop together. + +The costume gave her a kind of boyish charm; yet she remained entirely +feminine. A kind of bronze mist seemed to envelop her head, as the +dull-tawny sunset light fell on her from those broad windows. Near her +riding-crop stood a Hindu incense-holder, with joss-sticks burning. +As she took one of these and twirled it contemplatively, the blue-gray +vapor spiraling upward was no more dreamy than her eyes. + +"The invincible Orient!" she said, all at once. "It absorbs everything +and gives back nothing. And we thought, we hoped, we might conquer +part of it! Well--no--that's not done." + +The man stopped his slow pacing, sat on the edge of the table and +drummed with his fingers on the teak. + +"Not at the first attempt, anyhow," said he, after a little thought. +"I think, though, another time--but there's no use dreaming. Of +course, it's not the treasure I'm thinking about. That was just a +detail. It's the men. Good men!" + +She peered into the incense-smoke, as if exorcising the powers of +darkness. + +"They're not dead, not all of them!" she exclaimed with conviction. + +"I wish I could believe you!" + +"But you _must_ believe me! Something tells me some of our good chaps +are still alive. All of them perhaps." + +"Impossible!" He shook his head. "Even if they escaped the explosion, +the Jannati Shahr devils must have massacred them." He shuddered +slightly. "That's the worst of it. Death is all right. But the +crucifixion, and all--" + +"Cold reason paints a cruel picture, I admit," the woman answered, +laying a hand on the man's. "But you know--a woman's intuition. I +don't believe as you do. And the major--and that rumor we got from old +Nasr ed Din, the Hejaz rug-merchant down on Hester Street, how about +that?" + +"Yes, I know. But--" + +"How could a rumor like that come through, about a big, white-skinned, +red-haired _Ajam_ slave held by that tribe near Jeddah? How could it, +unless there were some truth back of it?" + +"He wandered away into the desert, quite insane. It's not impossible +he might have been captured. By Allah!" And the man struck the table +hard. "If I really believed Nasr ed Din--" + +"Well?" + +"I'd go again, if I died for it!" + +"The pronoun's wrong. _We'd_ go!" + +"Yes, _we_!" He took her hand. "We'd trail that rumor down and have +Bohannan out of there, and the others too, if--but no, no, the thing's +impossible!" + +"Nothing is impossible, I tell you, in the East. And haven't we had +miracles enough? After we were judged pirates and condemned to die, +by the International Aero Tribunal, wasn't it a miracle about +that pardon? That immunity, for your vibratory secrets that have +revolutionized the defensive tactics of the League's air-forces?" + +She smiled up at him, through the vapor. "It's the impossible that +happens, these days! The soul within me tells me some of our chaps are +still alive, out there!" + +She waved her smoky wand toward the large-scale map of Arabia on the +wall. + +"But Rrisa," said he. "About the others, there's no sense of guilt. I +feel, though, like a murderer about Rrisa." + +"Rrisa still lives!" + +He shook his head. + +"The incense tells me." She insisted. "My heart tells me!" + +"Allah make it so! But even if he is dead, he died like the others--a +man!" + +"In pursuit of an ideal. We all had that, a dream and an ideal." + +"Yes. It wasn't the treasure, of course," he mused. "It wasn't +material things. It was adventure. Well--you and I have had that, at +all events. And they had it too. They and we--all of us--we changed +the course of history for more than two hundred million human beings. +And as for you and me--" + +He turned, looking at the map. Then he got up from the table, went to +that map and laid a hand on the vast, blank expanse across which was +printed only "Ruba el Khali"--the Empty Abodes. + +"It would wreck the whole structure of civilization if we told," said +he. The woman put back the incense-stick into its holder, got up and +came to stand beside him. "Imagine the horrible, vulture-like scramble +of capitalism to exploit that dyke of gold! There'd be expeditions, +pools, combines, wars--we'd have the blood of uncounted thousands on +our heads! + +"It's not the treacherous El Barr people I'm thinking of. If they +perished, as they would to the last man defending their gold, all well +and good. But in case any of our men are still alive there, _they'd_ +be butchered. And then, the destruction of gold as a medium of +exchange, by its gross plenty, would wreck the world with panics. And +the greatest catastrophe of history would lie on our shoulders. That +is why--" + +"Why the secret must remain here," she said, touching her breast. + +"_But_!" he exclaimed, and turned and took a pencil from the table. + +In a bold hand he wrote, across the blank white spaces of the map, +these characters in Arabic: + +[Illustration] + +"_Nac'hna arivna_!" he exclaimed. "'_We know!_'" + +A long silence followed. Both, with deep memories, were peering at +those words, as the light slowly faded in the west over the Palisades. +The man was first to speak. + +"This secret is ours," said he. "I have another, that even you don't +know!" + +"You have kept something from--_me_?" + +"Only until I have quite dared tell you." + +"Dared?" + +"It isn't the mere, simple thing itself. It's the symbolism back of +it. Maybe even now I'm premature in telling you. But, somehow--" + +He hesitated. This man of action, hard, determined, strong, seemed +afraid. + +"Somehow," he added, "you and I-have come so near to each other-and +tonight, here in this room where it all started, we have seemed to +understand each other so well, through the revocation of the past, +that--yes, I'll show you--" + +He thrust a hand into his breast-pocket and brought out a small +leather sack. Startled, she looked at it as he drew open the cord. He +took from the sack a wondrous thing, luminous with nacreous hues. + +"The Great Pearl Star," she cried. "Kaukab el Durri!" + +"Yes, the Great Pearl Star, itself!" + +She looked in silence. Then she reached out a hand and touched it, as +if unbelieving. + +"Why, you never told me!" + +"I had a reason." + +"And--through all that inferno, when every ounce had to be +considered--" + +"I was keeping this for--you." + +There were tears in her eyes as he laid a hand on her shoulder. + +"For you," he repeated. "It was mine, but it is mine no longer. This +crown-jewel of Islam is yours, now--if you will have it." + +"If I will have it!" she whispered. "There's only one thing in this +whole world I more dearly long for!" + +"I am offering you that, too," said the man, in a trembling voice. "I +knew nothing of it, nothing whatever, until I came to understand what +a woman really could be. I fought against it--and lost. + +"It came to me not sought after and welcomed, but storming over the +ramparts of my soul. Yes, I fought love--and lost." + +"I understand that, too," she said. + +"I put the Great Pearl Star in my breast, sacred to you. I said to +myself: 'If we ever live through this, and I feel worthy to give this +gem to her, I'll ask her to complete it.'" + +"To complete it?" + +"Yes. You see, one pearl was missing. The most wonderful of all. Now, +as I clasp this necklace round your throat, the Great Pearl Star is +completed." + +"I--don't understand--" + +"Ah, but _I_ do! The missing pearl of great price-you are that pearl. +In giving the Great Pearl Star to you, I make it whole." + +"And I give it back to you, completed!" + +Her head lay on his heart. His lips were on her hair. + +"Completion," he whispered. "Peace, to the troubled heart. Peace, +after the night that life has been to me. Peace, till the dawn!" + +"'Peace,'" she said, in the line of the ancient Arabic poem. "'Peace, +until the coming of the stars.'" + +"'Peace,'" he breathed. "'It is peace until the rising of the day!'" + + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Flying Legion, by George Allan England + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLYING LEGION *** + +***** This file should be named 12265-8.txt or 12265-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/2/6/12265/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Bill Hershey and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/12265-8.zip b/old/12265-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d30629d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12265-8.zip diff --git a/old/12265.txt b/old/12265.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a35127 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12265.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14711 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Flying Legion, by George Allan England + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Flying Legion + +Author: George Allan England + +Release Date: May 4, 2004 [EBook #12265] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLYING LEGION *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Bill Hershey and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +[Illustration: A HAIL OF SLUGS BOMBARDED THE VAST-SPREAD WINGS AND +FUSELAGE OF _NISSR_.] + + + + +THE FLYING LEGION + + +BY GEORGE ALLAN ENGLAND + + +Published July, 1920 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I A Spirit Caged. + + II "To Paradise--or Hell!" + + III The Gathering of the Legionaries. + + IV The Masked Recruit. + + V In the Night. + + VI The Silent Attack. + + VII The Nest of the Great Bird. + + VIII The Eagle of the Sky. + + IX Eastward Ho. + + X "I Am the Master's!" + + XI Captain Alden Stands Revealed. + + XII The Woman of Adventure. + + XIII The Enmeshing of the Master. + + XIV Storm Birds. + + XV The Battle of Vibrations. + + XVI Leclair, Ace of France. + + XVII Miracles, Scourge of Flame. + + XVIII "Captain Alden" Makes Good. + + XIX Hostile Coasts. + + XX The Waiting Menace. + + XXI Shipwreck and War. + + XXII Beleaguered. + + XXIII A Mission of Dread. + + XXIV Angels of Death. + + XXV The Great Pearl Star. + + XXVI The Sand-Devils. + + XXVII Toil and Pursuit. + + XXVIII Onward Toward the Forbidden City. + + XXIX "Labbayk!" + + XXX Over Mecca. + + XXXI East Against West. + + XXXII The Battle of the Haram. + + XXXIII The Ordeal of Rrisa. + + XXXIV The Inner Secret of Islam. + + XXXV Into the Valley of Mystery. + + XXXVI Journey's End. + + XXXVII The Greeting of Warriors. + + XXXVIII Bara Miyan, High Priest. + + XXXIX On, to the Golden City! + + XL Into the Treasure Citadel. + + XLI The Master's Price. + + XLII "Sons of the Prophet, Slay!" + + XLIII War in the Depths. + + XLIV Into the Jewel-Crypt. + + XLV The Jewel Hoard. + + XLVI Bohannan Becomes a Millionaire. + + XLVII A Way Out? + + XLVIII The River of Night. + + XLIX The Desert. + + L "Where There Is None but Allah." + + LI Torture. + + LII "Thalassa! Thalassa!" + + LIII The Greater Treasure. + +The Flying Legion + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +A SPIRIT CAGED + +The room was strange as the man, himself, who dwelt there. It seemed, +in a way, the outward expression of his inner personality. He had +ordered it built from his own plans, to please a whim of his restless +mind, on top of the gigantic skyscraper that formed part of +his properties. Windows boldly fronted all four cardinal +compass-points--huge, plate-glass windows that gave a view unequaled +in its sweep and power. + +The room seemed an eagle's nest perched on the summit of a man-made +crag. The Arabic name that he had given it--_Niss'rosh_--meant just +that. Singular place indeed, well-harmonized with its master. + +Through the westward windows, umbers and pearls of dying day, smudged +across a smoky sky, now shadowed trophy-covered walls. This light, +subdued and somber though it was, slowly fading, verging toward a +night of May, disclosed unusual furnishings. It showed a heavy black +table of some rare Oriental wood elaborately carved and inlaid with +still rarer woods; a table covered with a prayer-rug, on which lay +various books on aeronautics and kindred sciences, jostling works on +Eastern travel, on theosophy, mysticism, exploration. + +Maps and atlases added their note of research. At one end of the +table stood a bronze faun's head with open lips, with hand cupped +at listening ear. Surely that head must have come from some buried +art-find of the very long ago. The faint greenish patina that covered +it could have been painted only by the hand of the greatest artist of +them all, Time. + +A book-case occupied the northern space, between the windows. It, too, +was crammed with scientific reports, oddments of out-of-the-way lore, +and travels. But here a profusion of war-books and official documents +showed another bent of the owner's mind. Over the book-case hung two +German gasmasks. They seemed, in the half-dusk, to glower down through +their round, empty eyeholes like sinister devil-fish awaiting prey. + +The masks were flanked by rifles, bayonets, knives, maces, all bearing +scars of battle. Above them, three fragments of Prussian battle-flags +formed a kind of frieze, their color softened by the fading sunset, +even as the fading of the dream of imperial glory had dulled and +dimmed all that for which they had stood. + +The southern wall of that strange room--that quiet room to which only +a far, vague murmur of the city's life whispered up, with faint blurs +of steamer-whistles from the river--bore Turkish spoils of battle. +Here hung more rifles, there a Kurdish yataghan with two hand-grenades +from Gallipoli, and a blood-red banner with a crescent and one star +worked in gold thread. Aviator's gauntlets draped the staff of the +banner. + +Along the eastern side of this eyrie a broad divan invited one to +rest. Over it were suspended Austrian and Bulgarian captures--a lance +with a blood-stiffened pennant, a cuirass, entrenching tools, a steel +helmet with an eloquent bullet-hole through the crown. Some few framed +portraits of noted "aces" hung here and elsewhere, with two or three +photographs of battle-planes. Three of the portraits were framed in +symbolic black. Part of a smashed Taube propeller hung near. + +As for the western side of _Niss'rosh_, this space between the two +broad windows that looked out over the light-spangled city, the Hudson +and the Palisades, was occupied by a magnificent Mercator's Projection +of the world. This projection was heavily annotated with scores of +comments penciled by a firm, virile hand. Lesser spaces were occupied +by maps of the campaigns in Mesopotamia and the Holy Land. One map, +larger than any save the Mercator, showed the Arabian Peninsula. A +bold question-mark had been impatiently flung into the great, +blank stretch of the interior; a question-mark eager, impatient, +challenging. + +It was at this map that the master of _Niss'rosh_, the eagle's nest, +was peering as the curtain rises on our story. He was half reclining +in a big, Chinese bamboo chair, with an attitude of utter and +disheartening boredom. His crossed legs were stretched out, one heel +digging into the soft pile of the Tabreez rug. Muscular arms folded +in an idleness that irked them with aching weariness, he sat there, +brooding, motionless. + +Everything about the man spelled energy at bay, forces rusting, +ennui past telling. But force still dominated. Force showed in the +close-cropped, black hair and the small ears set close to the head; +in the corded throat and heavy jaws; in the well-muscled shoulders, +sinewed hands, powerful legs. This man was forty-one years old, +and looked thirty-five. Lines of chest and waist were those of the +athlete. Still, suspicions of fat, of unwonted softness, had begun to +invade those lines. Here was a splendid body, here was a dominating +mind in process of going stale. + +The face of the man was a mask of weariness of the soul, which kills +so vastly more efficiently than weariness of the body. You could see +that weariness in the tired frown of the black brows, the narrowing +of the dark eyes, the downward tug of the lips. Wrinkles of stagnation +had began to creep into forehead and cheeks--wrinkles that no amount +of gymnasium, of club life, of careful shaving, of strict hygiene +could banish. + +Through the west windows the slowly changing hues of gray, of +mulberry, and dull rose-pink blurred in the sky, cast softened lights +upon those wrinkles, but could not hide them. They revealed sad +emptiness of purpose. This man was tired unto death, if ever man were +tired. + +He yawned, sighed deeply, stretched out his hand and took up a bit +of a model mechanism from the table, where it had lain with other +fragments of apparatus. For a moment he peered at it; then he tossed +it back again, and yawned a second time. + +"Business!" he growled. "'Swapped my reputation for a song,' eh? +Where's my commission, now?" + +He got up, clasped his hands behind him, and walked a few times up and +down the heavy rug, his footfalls silent. + +"The business could have gone on without me!" he added, bitterly. +"And, after all, what's any business, compared to _life_?" + +He yawned again, stretched up his arms, groaned and laughed with +mockery: + +"A little more money, maybe, when I don't know what to do with what +I've got already! A few more figures on a checkbook--and the heart +dying in me!" + +Then he relapsed into silence. Head down, hands thrust deep in +pockets, he paced like a captured animal in bars. The bitterness +of his spirit was wormwood. What meant, to him, the interests and +pleasures of other men? Profit and loss, alcohol, tobacco, women--all +alike bore him no message. Clubs, athletics, gambling--he grumbled +something savage as his thoughts turned to such trivialities. And into +his aquiline face came something the look of an eagle, trapped, there +in that eagle's nest of his. + +Suddenly the Master of _Niss'rosh_ came to a decision. He returned, +clapped his hands thrice, sharply, and waited. Almost at once a door +opened at the southeast corner of the room--where the observatory +connected with the stairway leading down to the Master's apartment on +the top floor of the building--and a vague figure of a man appeared. + +The light was steadily fading, so that this man could by no means be +clearly distinguished. But one could see that he wore clothing quite +as conventional as his master's. Still, no more than the Master did he +appear one of life's commonplaces. Lean, brown, dry, with a hawk-nose +and glinting eyes, surely he had come from far, strange places. + +"Rrisa!" the Master spoke sharply, flinging the man's name at him with +the exasperation of overtensed nerves. + +"_M'alme?_" (Master?) replied the other. + +"Bring the evening food and drink," commanded the Master, in excellent +Arabic, guttural and elusive with strange hiatuses of breath. + +Rrisa withdrew, salaaming. His master turned toward the western +windows. There the white blankness of the map of Arabia seemed mocking +him. The Master's eyes grew hard; he raised his fist against the map, +and smote it hard. Then once more he fell to pacing; and as he walked +that weary space, up and down, he muttered to himself with words we +cannot understand. + +After a certain time, Rrisa came silently back, sliding into the soft +dusk of that room almost like a wraith. He bore a silver tray with a +hook-nosed coffee-pot of chased metal. The cover of this coffee-pot +rose into a tall, minaret-like spike. On the tray stood also a small +cup having no handle; a dish of dates; a few wafers made of the +Arabian cereal called _temmin_; and a little bowl of _khat_ leaves. + +"_M'alme, al khat aja_" (the khat has come), said Rrisa. + +He placed the tray on the table at his master's side, and was about to +withdraw when the other stayed him with raised hand. + + +"Tell me, Rrisa," he commanded, still speaking in Arabic, "where wert +thou born? Show thou me, on that map." + +The Arab hesitated a moment, squinting by the dim light that now had +faded to purple dusk. Then he advanced a thin forefinger, and laid +it on a spot that might have indicated perhaps three hundred miles +southeast of Mecca. No name was written on the map, there. + +"How dost thou name that place, Rrisa?" demanded the Master. + +"I cannot say, Master," answered the Arab, very gravely. As he stood +there facing the western afterglow, the profound impassivity of his +expression--a look that seemed to scorn all this infidel civilization +of an upstart race--grew deeper. + +To nothing of it all did he owe allegiance, save to the Master +himself--the Master who had saved him in the thick of the Gallipoli +inferno. Captured by the Turks there, certain death had awaited him +and shameful death, as a rebel against the Sublime Porte. The Master +had rescued him, and taken thereby a scar that would go with him to +the grave; but that, now, does not concern our tale. Only we say again +that Rrisa's life lay always in the hands of this man, to do with as +he would. + +None the less, Rrisa answered the question with a mere: + +"Master, I cannot say." + +"Thou knowest the name of the place where thou wast born?" demanded +the Master, calmly, from where he sat by the table. + +"_A_ (yes), _M'alme_, by the beard of M'hamed, I do!" + +"Well, what is it?" + +Rrisa shrugged his thin shoulders. + +"A tent, a hut? A village, a town, a city?" + +"A city, Master. A great city, indeed. But its name I may not tell +you." + +"The map, here, shows nothing, Rrisa. And of a surety, the makers of +maps do not lie," the Master commented, and turned a little to pour +the thick coffee. Its perfume rose with grateful fragrance on the air. + +The Master sipped the black, thick nectar, and smiled oddly. For a +moment he regarded his unwilling orderly with narrowed eyes. + +"Thou wilt not say they lie, son of Islam, eh?" demanded he. + +"Not of choice, perhaps, _M'alme_," the Mussulman replied. "But if the +camel hath not drunk of the waters of the oasis, how can he know that +they be sweet? These _Nasara_ (Christian) makers of maps, what can +they know of my people or my land?" + +"Dost thou mean to tell me no man can pass beyond the desert rim, and +enter the middle parts of Arabia?" + +"I said not so, Master," replied the Arab, turning and facing his +master, every sense alert, on guard against any admissions that might +betray the secret he, like all his people, was sworn by a Very great +oath to keep. + +"Not all men, true," the Master resumed. "The Turks--I know they +enter, though hated. But have no other foreign men ever seen the +interior?" + +"_A, M'alme_, many--of the True Faith. Such, though they come from +China, India, or the farther islands of the Indian Ocean, may enter +freely." + +"Of course. But I am speaking now of men of the _Nasara_ faith. How of +them? Tell me, thou!" + +"You are of the _Nasara, M'alme!_ Do not make me answer this! You, +having saved my life, own that life. It is yours. _Ana bermil illi +bedakea!_ (I obey your every command!) But do not ask me this! My head +is at your feet. But let us speak of other things, O Master!" + +The Master kept a moment's silence. He peered contemplatively at the +dark silhouette of the Arab, motionless, impassive in the dusk. +Then he frowned a very little, which was as near to anger as he ever +verged. Thoughtfully he ate a couple of the little _temmin_ wafers and +a few dates. Rrisa waited in silent patience. + +All at once the Master spoke. + +"It is my will that thou speak to me and declare this thing, Rrisa," +said he, decisively. "Say, thou, hath no man of the _Nasara_ faith +ever penetrated as far as to the place of thy birth?" + +"_Lah_ (no), _M'alme_, never. But three did reach an oasis not far to +westward of it, fifty years ago, or maybe fifty-one." + +"Ah, so?" exclaimed the Master, a touch of eagerness in his grave, +impassive voice. "Who were they?" + +"Two of the French blood, Master, and one of the Russian." + +"And what happened to them, then?" + +"They--died, Master." + +"Thou dost mean, thy people did slay them?" + +"They died, all three," repeated Rrisa, in even tones. "The jackals +devoured them and the bones remained. Those bones, I think, are still +there. In our dry country--bones remain, long." + +"Hm! Yea, so it is! But, tell me, thou, is it true that in thy country +the folk slay all _Nasara_ they lay hands on, by cutting with a sharp +knife? Cutting the stomach, so?" He made an illustrative gesture. + +"Since you do force me to speak, against my will, _M'alme_--you being +of the _Nasara_ blood--I will declare the truth. Yea, that is so." + +"A pleasant custom, surely! And why always in the stomach? Why do they +never stab or cut like other races?" + +"There are no bones in the stomach, to dull the edges of the knives, +_M'alme_." + +"Quite practical, that idea!" the Master exclaimed. Then he fell +silent again. He pressed his questions no further, concerning the +great Central Desert of the land. To have done so, he knew, would have +been entirely futile. Beyond a certain point, which he could gauge +accurately, neither gold nor fire would drive Rrisa. The Arab would at +any hour of night or day have laid down his life for the Master; but +though it should mean death he would not break the rites of his faith, +nor touch the cursed flesh of a pig, nor drink the forbidden drop of +wine, nor yet betray the secret of his land. + +All at once the Arab spoke, in slow, grave tones. + +"Your God is not my God, Master," said he, impersonally. "No, the God +of your people is not the God of mine. We have our own; and the land +is ours, too. None of the _Nasara_ may come thither, and live. Three +came, that I have heard of, and--they died. I crave my Master's +bidding to depart." + +"Presently, yea," the Master answered. "But I have one more question +for thee. If I were to take thee, and go to thy land, but were not to +ask thy help there--if I were not to ask thee to guide me nor yet to +betray any secret--wouldst thou play the traitor to me, and deliver me +up to thy people?" + +"My head is at your feet, _M'alme_. So long as you did not ask me +to do such things as would be unlawful in the eyes of Allah and the +Prophet, and seek to force me to them, this hand of mine would wither +before it would be raised against the preserver of my life! I pray +you, _M'alme_, let me go!" + +"I grant it. _Ru'c'h halla!_" (Go now!) exclaimed the Master, with a +wave of the hand. Rrisa salaamed again, and, noiseless as a wraith, +departed. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +"TO PARADISE--OR HELL" + +For a time the Master sat in the thickening gloom, eating the dates +and _temmin_ wafers, drinking the coffee, pondering in deep silence. +When the simple meal was ended, he plucked a little sprig of leaves +from the khat plant in the bowl, and thrust them into his mouth. + +This khat, gathered in the mountains back of Hodeida, on the Red Sea +not far from Bab el Mandeb, had been preserved by a process known +to only a few Coast Arabs. The plant now in the bowl was part of a +shipment that had been more than three months on the way; yet still +the fresh aroma of it, as the Master crushed the thick-set, dark-green +leaves, scented the darkening room with perfumes of Araby. + +Slowly, with the contemplative appreciation of the connoisseur, the +Master absorbed the flavor and the wondrous stimulation of the "flower +of paradise." The use of khat, his once-a-day joy and comfort, he had +learned more than fifteen years before, on one of his exploring tours +in Yemen. He could hardly remember just when and where he had first +come to know the extraordinary mental and physical stimulus of this +strange plant, dear to all Arabs, any more than he definitely recalled +having learned the complex, poetical language of that Oriental land +of mystery. Both language and the use of khat had come to him from +contact with only the fringes of the country; and both had contributed +to his vast, unsatisfied longing to know what lay beyond the forbidden +zones that walled this land away from all the world. + +Wherever he had gone, whatever perils, hardships, and adventures had +been his in many years of wandering up and down the world, khat, +the wondrous, had always gone with him. The fortune he had spent +on keeping up the supply had many times over been repaid to him in +strength and comfort. + +The use of this plant, containing obscure alkaloids of the +katinacetate class, constituted his only vice--if you can call a habit +such as this vice, that works great well-being and that leaves no +appreciable aftermaths of evil such as are produced by alcohol or +drugs. + +For a few minutes the Master sat quite motionless, pondering. Then +suddenly he got up again, and strode to one of the westward-looking +windows. The light was almost wholly gone, now. The man's figure, +big-shouldered, compact, well-knit, appeared only as a dim silhouette +against the faded blur in the west; a blur smoky and streaked with +dull smudges as of old, dried blood. + +Far below, stretching away, away, shimmered the city's million +inconsequential lights. Above, stars were peeping out--were spying +down at all this feverish mystery of human life. Some of the low-hung +stars seemed to blend with the far lights along the Palisades. The +Master's lips tightened with impatience, with longing. + +"There's where it is," he muttered. "Not five miles from here! It's +there, and I've got to have it. There--a thing that can't be bought! +There--a thing that must be mine!" + +Among the stars, cutting down diagonally from the north-west, crept a +tiny, red gleam. The Master looked very grim, as his eyes followed its +swift flight. + +"The Chicago mail-plane, just getting in," he commented. "In half an +hour, the Paris plane starts from the Cortlandt Street aero-tower. And +beyond Paris lies Constantinople; and beyond that, Arabia--the East! +Men are going out that way, tonight! And I--stick here like an old, +done relic, cooped in _Niss'rosh_--imprisoned in this steel and glass +cage of my own making!" + +Suddenly he wheeled, flung himself into the big chair by the table and +dragged the faun's head over to him. He pressed a button at the base +of it, waited a moment and as the question came, "Number, please?" +spoke the desired number into the cupped hand and ear of the bronze. +Then, as he waited again, with the singular telephone in hand, he +growled savagely: + +"By Allah! This sort of thing's not going to go on any longer! Not if +I die stopping it!" + +A familiar voice, issuing from the lips of the faun--a voice made +natural and audible as the living human tones, by means of a delicate +microphone attachment inside the bronze head--tautened his nerves. + +"Hello, hello!" called he. "That you, Bohannan?" + +"Yes," sounded the answer. "Of course I know who _you_ are. There's +only one voice like yours in New York. Where are you?" + +"In prison." + +"No! Prison? For the Lord's sake!" + +"No; for conventionality's sake. Not legally, you understand. Not +even an adventure as exciting as that has happened to me. But +constructively in jail. _De facto_, as it were. It's all the same +thing." + +"Up there in that observatory thing of yours, are you?" asked +Bohannan. + +"Yes; and I want to see you." + +"When?" + +"At once! As soon as you can get over here in a taxi, from that +incredibly stupid club of yours. You can get to _Niss'rosh_ even +though it's after seven. Take the regular elevator to the forty-first +floor, and I'll have Rrisa meet you and bring you up here in the +special. + +"That's a concession, isn't it? The sealed gates that no one else ever +passes, at night, are opened to you. It's very important. Be here in +fifteen minutes you say? First-rate! Don't fail me. Good-bye!" + +He was smiling a little now as he pressed the button again and rang +off. He put the faun's head back on the table, got up and stretched +his vigorous arms. + +"By Allah!" he exclaimed, new notes in his voice. "What if--what if it +_could_ be, after all?" + +He turned to the wall, laid his hand on an ivory plate flush with the +surface and pressed slightly. In silent unison, heavy gold-embroidered +draperies slid across every window. As these draperies closed the +apertures, light gushed from every angle and cornice. No specific +source of illumination seemed visible; but the room bathed itself in +soft, clear radiance with a certain restful greenish tinge, throwing +no shadows, pure as the day itself. + +The man pulled open a drawer in the table and silently gazed down at +several little boxes within. He opened some. From one, on a bed of +purple satin, the Croix de Guerre, with a palm, gleamed up at him. +Another disclosed an "M.M.," a Medaille Militaire. A third showed him +the "D.F.C.," or Distinguished Flying Cross. Still another contained +aviator's insignia in the form of a double pair of wings. The Master +smiled, and closed the boxes, then the drawer. + +"After these," he mused, "dead inaction? Not for me!" + +His dark eyes were shining with eagerness as he walked to a door +beside that through which the Arab had entered. He swung it wide, +disclosing an ample closet, likewise inundated with light. There +hung a war-worn aviator's uniform of leather, gauntlets, a sheepskin +jacket, a helmet, resistal goggles, a cartridge-belt still half full +of ammunition, a heavy service automatic. + +For a moment the man looked in at these. A great yearning came upon +his face. Caressingly he touched the uniform, the helmet. He unhooked +the pistol from where it hung, and carried it back to the table. + +There he laid it down, and drew up his chair in front of it. For +a moment, silence fell as he remained there studying the +automatic--silence save for the faint, far hum of the city, the +occasional melodious note of steamer-whistles on the river. + +The Master's face, now that full light brought out its details, showed +a white scar that led from his right ear down along jaw and throat, +till the collar masked it. Gray hairs, beyond those of his age, +sprinkled his temples. Strangely he smiled as he observed the nicks +and deep excoriations in stock and barrel of the formidable weapon. +He reached out, took up the gun once more, weighed it, got the feel of +it, patted it with affection. + +"We've been through some wonderful times together, old pal, you and +I," said he. "We thought it was all over, didn't we, for a while? But +it's not! Life's not done, yet. It's maybe just beginning! We're going +out on the long trek, _again_!" + +For a while he sat there musing. Then he summoned Rrisa again, bade +him remove the tray, and gave him instructions about the guest soon +to arrive. When Rrisa had withdrawn, the Master pulled over one of the +huge atlases, opened it, turned to the map of Arabia, and fell into +deep study. + +Rrisa's tapping at the door, minutes later, roused him. At his order +to advance, the door swung. The Arab ushered in a guest, then silently +disappeared. Without a sound, the door closed. + +The Master arose, advancing with outstretched hand. + +"Bohannan! God, but I'm glad to see you!" + +Their hands met and clasped. The Master led Bohannan to the table and +gestured toward a chair. Bohannan threw his hat on the table with a +large, sweeping gesture typical of his whole character, and sat down. +And for a moment, they looked at each other in silence. + +A very different type, this, from the dark, sinewed master of +_Niss'rosh_. Bohannan was frankly red-haired, a bit stout, smiling, +expansive. His blood was undoubtedly Celtic. An air of great geniality +pervaded him. His hands were strong and energetic, with oddly +spatulate fingers; and the manner in which his nails had been gnawed +down and his mustache likewise chewed, bespoke a highly nervous +temperament belied by his ruddy, almost boyish face. His age might +have been thirty-five, but he looked one of those men who never fully +grow up, who never can be old. + +"Well, what's doing now?" demanded he, fixing blue eyes on his host. +He produced a cigarette and lighted it, inhaled smoke deeply and blew +a thin gray cloud toward the ceiling. "Something big, eh? by the way +you routed me out of a poker-game where I was already forty-seven +dollars and a half to the good. You don't usually call a fellow, that +way, unless there's something in the wind!" + +"There is, now." + +"Big?" + +"Very." + +"So?" The newcomer's eyes fell on the pistol. "Yes, that looks like +action, all right. Hope to heaven it _is_! I've been boring myself +and everybody else to death, the past three months. What's up? Duel, +maybe?" + +"Yes. That's just it, Bohannan. A duel." And the Master fixed strange +eyes on his companion. His muscular fingers fell to tapping the +prayer-rug on the table, drumming out an impatient little tattoo. + +"Duel? Lord's sake, man! With whom?" + +"With Fate. Now, listen!" The Master's tones became more animated. +A little of the inward fires had begun to burn through his +self-restraint. "Listen to me, and not a word till I'm done! You're +dryrotting for life, man. Dying for it, gasping for it, eating your +heart out for it! So am I. So are twenty-five or thirty men we know, +between us, in this city. That's all true, eh?" + +"Some!" + +"Yes! We wouldn't have to go outside New York to find at least +twenty-five or thirty in the same box we're in. All men who've been +through trench work, air work, life-and-death work on various fronts. +Men of independent means. Men to whom office work and club life +and all this petty stuff, here, is like dish-water after champagne! +Dare-devils, all of them, that wouldn't stop at the gates of Hell!" + +"The gates of Hell?" demanded Bohannan, his brow wrinkling with glad +astonishment. "What d'you mean by that, now?" + +"Just what I say! It's possible to gather together a kind of +unofficial, _sub rosa_, private little Foreign Legion of our own, +Bohannan--all battle-scarred men, all men with at least one decoration +and some with half a dozen. With that Legion, nothing would be +impossible!" + +He warmed to his subject, leaned forward, fixed eager eyes on +his friend, laid a hand on Bohannan's knee. "We've all done +the conventional thing, long enough. Now we're going to do the +unconventional thing. We've been all through the known. Now we're +going after the unknown. And Hell is liable to be no name for it, I +tell you that!" + +The Celt's eyes were alight with swift, eager enthusiasm. He laid his +hand on the other's, and gripped it hard in hot anticipation. + +"Tell me more!" he commanded. "What are we going to do?" + +"Going to see the stuff that's in us, and in twenty-five or thirty +more of our kind. The stuff, the backbone, the heart that's in you, +Bohannan! That's in me! In all of us!" + +"Great, great! That's me!" Bohannan's cigarette smoldered, unheeded, +in his fingers. The soul of him was thrilling with great visions. "I'm +with you! Whither bound?" + +The Master smiled oddly, as he answered in a low, even tone: + +"To Paradise--or Hell!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +THE GATHERING OF THE LEGIONARIES + +One week from that night, twenty-seven other men assembled in the +strange eyrie of _Niss'rosh_, nearly a thousand feet above the city's +turmoil. They came singly or in pairs, their arrival spaced in such a +manner as not to make the gathering obvious to anyone in the building +below. + +Rrisa, the silent and discreet, brought them up in the private +elevator from the forty-first floor to the Master's apartment on the +top story of the building, then up the stairway to the observatory, +and thus ushered them into the presence of the Master and Bohannan. +Each man was personally known to one or the other, who vouched +absolutely for his secrecy, valor, and good faith. + +This story would resolve itself into a catalogue were each man to be +named, with his title, his war-exploits, his decorations. We shall +have to touch but lightly on this matter of personnel. Six of the +men were Americans--eight, including the Master and Bohannan; four +English; five French; two Serbian; three Italian; and the others +represented New Zealand, Canada, Russia, Cuba, Poland, Montenegro, and +Japan. + +Not one of these men but bore a wound or more, from the Great +Conflict. This matter of having a scar had been made one prime +requisite for admission to the Legion. Each had anywhere from one to +half a dozen decorations, whether the Congressional Medal, the V.C., +the Croix de Guerre, the Order of the Rising Sun, or what-not. + +Not one was in uniform. That would have made their arrival far too +conspicuous. Dressed as they were, in mufti, even had anyone noted +their coming, it could not have been interpreted as anything but an +ordinary social affair. + +Twenty-nine men, all told, gathered in the observatory, clearly +illuminated by the hidden lights. All were true blue, all loyal to +the core, all rusting with ennui, all drawn thither by the lure of the +word that had been passed them in club and office, on the golf links, +in the street. All had been pledged, whether they went further or not, +to keep this matter secret as the grave. + +Some were already known to each other. Some needed introduction. Such +introduction consumed a few minutes, even after the last had come and +been checked off on the Master's list, in cipher code. The +brightly lighted room, behind its impenetrable curtains, blued with +tobacco-smoke; but no drop of wine or spirits was visible. + +The Master, at the head of the table, sat with his list and took +account of the gathering. Each man, as his name was called, gave that +name in full, briefly stated his service and mentioned his wound. + +All spoke English, though some rather mangled it. At any rate, this +was to be the official language of the expedition, and no other was to +be allowed. The ability to understand and obey orders given in English +had, of course, to be one essential requisite for this adventurous +band of Legionaries. + +When all the credentials had been proved satisfactory, the Master +rapped for order. Silence fell. The men settled down to listen, in +tense expectancy. Some took chairs, others occupied the divan, still +others--for whom there were no seats--stood along the walls. + +Informal though the meeting still was, an air of military restraint +and discipline already half possessed it. The bright air seemed to +quiver with the eagerness of these fighting-men once more to +thrust out into the currents of activity, to feel the tightening of +authority, the lure and tang of the unknown. + +Facing them from the end of the table, the Master stood and spoke +to them, with Bohannan seated at his right. His face reflected quite +another humor from that of the night, a week before, when first this +inspiration had come upon him. + +He seemed refreshed, buoyant, rejuvenated. His eyes showed fire. His +brows, that had frowned, now had smoothed themselves. His lips smiled, +though gravely. His color had deepened. His whole personality, that +had been sad and tired, now had become inspired with a profound and +soul-felt happiness. + +"Gentlemen all, soldiers and good men," said he, slowly. "In a general +way you know the purpose of this meeting. I am not given to oratory. I +do not intend making any speech to you. + +"We are all ex-fighters. Life, once filled with daring and adventure, +has become stale, flat, and unprofitable. The dull routine of business +and of social life is Dead Sea fruit to our lips--dust and ashes. It +cannot hold or entertain us. + +"By this I do not mean that war is good, or peace bad. For the vast +majority of men, peace is normal and right. But there must be always +a small minority that cannot tolerate ennui; that must seek risks and +daring exploits; that would rather lay down their lives, today, in +some man-sized exploit, than live twenty-five years longer in the dull +security of a humdrum rut. + +"Such men have always existed and probably always will. We are all, +I believe, of that type. Therefore you will all understand me. I will +understand you. And each of you will understand the rest. + +"Major Bohannan and I have chosen you and have invited you here +because we believe every man in this room is precisely the kind of +man I have been defining. We believe you are like ourselves, dying +of boredom, eager for adventure; and willing to undergo military +discipline, swear secrecy, pledge honor and risk life itself, provided +the adventure be daring enough, the reward promising enough. If there +is anyone here present who is unwilling to subscribe to what I have +said, so far, let him withdraw." + +No one stirred. But a murmur arose, eager, delighted: + +"Go on! Go on--tell us more!" + +"Absolute obedience to me is to be the first rule," continued the +Master. "The second is to be sobriety. There shall be no drinking, +carousing, or gambling. This is not to be a vulgar, swashbuckling, +privateering revel, but--" + +A slight disturbance at the door interrupted him. He frowned, and +rapped on the table, for silence. The disturbance, however, continued. +Someone was trying to enter there against Rrisa's protests. + +"I did not bring you up, sir," the Arab was saying, in broken English. +"You cannot come in! How did you get here?" + +"I'm not in the habit of giving explanations to subordinates, or +of bandying words with them," replied the man, in a clear, rather +high-pitched but very determined voice. The company, gazing at him, +saw a slight, well-knit figure of middle height or a little less, +in aviator's togs. "I'm here to see your master, my good fellow, not +you!" + +The man at the head of the table raised a finger to his lips, in +signal of silence from them all, and beckoned the Arab. + +"Let him come in!" he ordered, in Rrisa's vernacular. + +"_A, M'alme_" submitted the desert man, standing aside and bowing as +the stranger entered. The Master added, in English: + +"If he comes as a friend and helper, uninvited though he be, we +welcome him. If as an enemy, traitor, or spy, we can deal justice to +him in short order. Sir, advance!" + +The stranger came to the foot of the table. Men made way for him. He +stood there a moment in silence, dropped his gauntlets on the table +and seemed peering at the Master. Then all at once he drew himself up, +sharply, and saluted. + +The Master returned the salute. A moment's silence followed. No man +was looking elsewhere than at this interloper. + +Not much could be seen of him, so swaddled was he in sheepskin jacket, +aviator's helmet, and goggles. Leather trousers and leggings completed +his costume. The collar of the jacket, turned up, met the helmet. Of +his face, only the chin and lower part of the cheeks remained visible. + +The silence tautened, stretched to the breaking-point. All at once the +master of _Niss'rosh_ demanded, incisively: + +"Your name, sir?" + +"Captain Alfred Alden, of the R.A.F." + +"Royal Air Force man, eh? Are you prepared to prove that?" + +"I am." + +"If you're not, well--this won't be exactly a salubrious altitude for +you." + +"I have my papers, my licenses, my commission." + +"With you here?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well," answered the Master, "I will examine them in due time. +English, American, or--?" + +"I am a Canadian." answered the aviator. "I have seen nearly two +years' active service. I rank as an ace. I bear three wounds and have +been cited several times. I have the Distinguished Service Cross. What +more need I tell you, sir?" + +His voice was steady and rang true. The Master nodded approval, that +seemed to echo round the room in a buzz of acceptance. But there were +still other questions to be asked. The next one was: + +"How did you come here? It's obvious my man didn't bring you up." + +"I came in my own plane, sir," the stranger answered, in a dead hush +of stillness. "It just now landed on the roof of this building. If you +will draw the curtains, there behind you, I believe you can see it for +yourself." + +"I heard no engine." + +"I volplaned in. I don't say this to boast sir, but I can handle the +average plane as accurately as most men handle their own fingers." + +"Were you invited to attend this meeting by either Major Bohannan or +by me?" + +"No, sir, I was not." + +"Then, why are you here?" + +"Why am I here? For exactly the same reason that all the rest are +here, sir!" The aviator swept his arm comprehensively at the ranks of +eagerly listening men. "To resume active service. To get back to duty. +To live, again! In short, to join this expedition and to share all its +adventures!" + +"Hm! Either that, or to interfere with us." + +"Not the latter, sir! I swear that!" + +"How did you know there was going to be an expedition, at all?" +demanded the Master, his brows tensed, lips hard, eyes very keen. The +aviator seemed smiling, as he answered: + +"I know many things. Some may be useful to you all. I am offering you +my skill and knowledge, such as they may be, without any thought or +hope of reward." + +"Why?" + +"Because I am tired of life. Because I want--must have--the freedom of +the open roads, the inspiration of some great adventure! Surely, you +understand." + +"Yes, if what you say is true, and you are not a spy. Show us your +face, sir!" + +The aviator loosened his helmet and removed it, disclosing a mass of +dark hair, a well-shaped head and a vigorous neck. Then he took off +his goggles. + +A kind of communal whisper of astonishment and hostility ran round the +apartment. The man's whole face--save for eyeholes through which +dark pupils looked strangely out--was covered by a close-fitting, +flesh-colored celluloid mask. + +This mask reached from the roots of his hair to his mouth. It sloped +away down the left jaw, and somewhat up the cheekbone of the right +side. The mask was firmly strapped in place around the head and neck. + +"What does all this mean, sir?" demanded the Master, sharply. "Why the +mask?" + +"Is that a necessary question, sir?" replied the aviator, while a buzz +of curiosity and suspicion rose. "You have seen many such during the +war and since its close." + +"Badly disfigured, are you?" + +"That word, 'disfigured,' does not describe it, sir. Others have +wounds, but my whole face is nothing but a wound. No, let me put it +more accurately--there is, practically speaking, no face at all. The +gaping cavity that exists under this mask would certainly sicken the +strongest men among you, and turn you against me. + +"We can't tolerate what disgusts, even if its qualities be excellent. +In exposing myself to you, sir, I should certainly be insuring my +rejection. But what you cannot see, what you can only imagine, will +not make you refuse me." + +The Master pondered a moment, then nodded and asked: + +"Is it so very bad, sir?" + +"It's a thing of horror, incredible, awful, unreal! In the hospital +at Rouen, they called me 'The Kaiser's Masterpiece.' Some of the most +hardened surgeons couldn't look at me, or dress my--wound, let us call +it--without a shudder. Ordinary men would find me intolerable, if they +could see me. + +"Unmasked, I bear no resemblance whatever to a man, but rather to some +ghastly, drug-inspired dream or nightmare of an Oriental Dante. The +fact that I have sacrificed my human appearance in the Great Cause +cannot overcome the shrinking aversion that normal men would feel, +if they could see me. I say only this, that my mutilation is +indescribable. As the officer and gentleman I know you to be, you +won't ask me to expose this horror!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +THE MASKED RECRUIT + +A little silence lengthened, while the strange aviator continued to +peer out with strangely shining eyes through the holes of his mask. +The effect of that human intelligence, sheltered in there behind that +expressionless celluloid, whose frail thinness they all knew covered +unspeakable frightfulness, became uncanny. + +Some of the men eased the tension by blowing ribbons of smoke or +by relighting tobacco that had gone out while the stranger had been +talking. Others shifted, a bit uneasily. Voices began to mutter, pro +and con. The Master suddenly knocked again, for silence. + +"I am going to accept this man," said he, sharply. "You notice I +do not put this to a vote, or consult you about it. Nor shall I, in +anything. The prime condition of this whole undertaking, as I was +saying when Captain Alden here arrived, is unquestioning obedience to +my authority. + +"No one who is unwilling to swear that, need go any further. You must +have confidence in my plans, my judgment. And you must be willing to +obey. It is all very autocratic, I know, but the expedition cannot +proceed on any other basis. + +"You are to go where I will, act as I command, and only regain your +liberty when the undertaking is at an end. I shall not order any man +to go anywhere, or do anything, that I would not do myself. On this +you can rely. + +"In case of my death, the authority falls on Major Bohannan. He is +today the only man who knows my plans, and with whom I have had any +discussion. If we both are killed, then you can elect your own leader. +But so long as either of us lives, you have no authority and no +redress. I hope that's perfectly understood. Does any man wish to +withdraw?" + +Not one budged. All stood to their decision, hard as rock. + +"Very well," said the Master, grimly. "But remember, disobedience +incurs the death penalty, and it will be rigorously enforced. My word +is to be supreme. + +"Such being the case, I decide to take this man. His skill as an +aviator cannot be denied. We shall need that. His ability to endure +suffering and still remain efficient seems proved. That may be +valuable; probably will be. + +"I shall examine his credentials. If he turns out to be a spy--well, +life will be short, for him." + +He addressed himself to the masked aviator, who was still standing in +an attitude of military attention. + +"You are now one of us, sir. You become the thirtieth member of a +little group of as brave men, as daring and determined fighters as +can be found in America or in the world--all tried and tempered by the +fires of war; all decorated for conspicuous valor; all ready to follow +me to the ends of the earth and die, if need be; all eager to share in +an undertaking as yet unknown to them, but one that promises to be +the most extraordinary adventure ever undertaken on this planet. You +understand all that, sir?" + +"I do!" + +"Raise your right hand, sir." + +The aviator obeyed. + +"All the others, too!" + +Every hand went up. + +"Swear allegiance to me, fidelity, secrecy, courage, obedience. On the +thing you hold most dear, your honor as fighting-men, swear it!" + +The shout that answered him, from every throat, made the eagle's nest +ring with wild echoes. The Master smiled, as the hands sank. + +"With men like you," said he, "failure is impossible. The expedition +is to start at once, tomorrow night. No man in it has now any ties +or home or kin that overbalance his ties to me and to the _esprit de +corps_ of our body. + +"The past is dead, for you. The future is all a mystery. You are +to live only in the present, day by day. And now for some practical +details. + +"The means of transport you do not know. The perils and rewards are +problematical. Of the former there will be enough; as for the latter, +those lie on the knees of the gods. There will be no payment for any +man. Not a cent of money is involved in this service. + +"Commissary will be furnished. Each man is to wear his campaign +equipment--his uniform and such kit as he can store in a rucksack. +Bring small-arms and ammunition. In addition, I will furnish bombing +material and six Lewis guns, with ammunition, also other materials of +which I shall now say nothing. These things will be transported to +the proper place without labor on your part. I think I have made the +outlines of the matter reasonably clear to every man present." + +"Our orders, sir?" asked a voice with a French accent, down the table. +"Are we to have no precise orders before leaving this room?" + +"You are. Each man will receive his own, sealed, before leaving. I +am now about to give them out, in alphabetical rotation. This will +dismiss the meeting. You will withdraw as inconspicuously as you +came. Remember, you are to become as cogs in the machine that I have +devised. At the exact place, hour, minute, and second you are to do +exactly the thing ordered, _and nothing else_. Neglect, disobedience, +or failure will positively not be condoned, but will be punished as I +see fit, even to the death penalty. + +"Come forward now, as I call your names, and receive what I shall give +you." + +He opened a drawer in the table, took out many small boxes and +arranged them before him. Each box was carefully wrapped in stout +paper, securely tied, and sealed with red wax. + +Standing there, firm, impassive, with narrowed eyes, he began reading +the names: + + +"Adams--Auchincloss--Brodeur--Cracowicz--Daimamoto--Emilio--Frazier--" + +As each man's name was uttered he came down along the table, took the +box extended to him, thrust it into his pocket, saluted stiffly, and +withdrew in silence. At the end of a few minutes, no one was left but +the Master, Bohannan, and the man in the celluloid mask. + +"Have you no orders for me, sir?" asked the aviator, still erect +in his place at the far end of the table. His eyes shone out darkly +through his shield. + +"None, sir." + +"All the others--" + +"You are different." The Master set hands on his hips, and coldly +studied this strange figure. "The others have had their orders +carefully worked out for them, prepared, synchronized. You have come, +so to speak, as an extemporization, an auxiliary; you will add one +more unit to the flyers in the expedition, of which there are nine +aces, including Major Bohannan here. The others are now on their +way to their lodgings, to study their instructions, to memorize, and +prepare to carry them out. You are to remain here, with Major Bohannan +and with me." + +"Until what time, sir?" + +"Until we start. You will be under continual surveillance. If you +make any attempt to communicate in any way with anyone outside my +apartment, it will be the last thing you will ever do. You will +receive no other warning. Tomorrow night you will accompany us. Till +then, you remain my--guest." + +The aviator nodded. + +"Very well, sir," he accepted. "But, my machine?" + +"I will attend to your machine." + +"I should hate to leave it there on the roof." + +"It will not be left on the roof." + +"I don't understand, exactly--" + +"There will be very many things you do not understand before this +expedition is over and done with. I need say no more." + +Sharply he clapped his hands, thrice. In a moment, Rrisa appeared at +the door. The Master spoke a few guttural, aspirated words of Arabic. +Rrisa beckoned the stranger, who obeyed. + +At the exit he faced about and sharply saluted. The Master returned +it. Then he vanished, and the door noiselessly closed behind them. + +The Master turned to Bohannan. + +"Now," said he, "these few last details. Time is growing very short. +Only a few hours remain. To work, Major--to work!" + +At this same moment Auchincloss had already arrived at his rooms in +the McAlpine; and there, having carefully locked his door, had settled +himself at his desk with his sealed box before him. + +For a moment he studied it under the electric light. Then, breaking +the wax with fingers tensed by eagerness, he tore it open. He spread +the contents on his blotting-pad. There was a small pocket-compass of +the best quality, a plain-cased watch wound up and going, a map and +a folded sheet of paper covered with typewriting. Auchincloss fell to +reading: + +GENERAL ORDERS + +You are to learn your specific orders by heart, and then destroy this +paper. You are to act on these orders, irrespective of every other +man. You are not to communicate the contents of this paper to any +other. This might upset the pre-arranged plan. You might try to join +forces, assist each other, or exercise some mistaken judgment that +might result in ruin. Each man is to keep his orders an absolute +secret. This is vital. + +Each man, like yourself, is provided with a map, a watch, and a +compass. These watches are all self-luminous, all accurately adjusted +to synchronize to the second, and all will run forty-eight hours. + +SPECIFIC ORDERS + +Tomorrow, proceed inconspicuously to Tenafly, New Jersey, and hire a +room at the Cutter Inn. Carry your kit in a suit-case. At 7:30 p.m., +go to Englewood. Go up Englewood Avenue toward the Palisades, turn +left (north) along the road near edge of cliff; proceed half a mile +and enter woods at your right. There you will find path marked "A" on +your map. Put on rucksack and discard suit-case, which, of course, +is to have no identifying marks. Proceed along path to point "B," and +from under board you will find there take box with weapon enclosed. +Box will also contain vacuum searchlight and directions for use of +weapon, exact time, direction, and elevation for discharging same, and +further instructions how to proceed. Act on these to the second. If +interfered with, kill; but kill quietly, so as to avoid giving the +alarm. + +I expect every man to do his duty to the full. There will be but one +excuse for failure, and that is death. + +The Master. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +IN THE NIGHT + +The night was moonless, dark, warm with the inviting softness of late +spring that holds out promises of romance. Stars wavered and wimpled +in the black waters of the Hudson as a launch put out in silence from +the foot of Twenty-seventh Street. + +This launch contained four men. They carried but little baggage; no +more than could be stowed in a rucksack apiece. All were in their old +service uniforms, with long coats over the uniforms to mask them. All +carried vacuum-flashlights in their overcoat pockets, and lethal-gas +pistols, in addition to ordinary revolvers or automatics. And all were +keyed to the top notch of energy, efficiency, eagerness. The Great +Adventure had begun. + +In the stern of the swift, twenty-four cylinder launch--a racing +model--sat Captain Alden and Rrisa. The captain wore his aviator's +helmet and his goggles, despite the warmth of the night. To appear in +only his celluloid mask, even at a time like this when darkness would +have hidden him, seemed distasteful to the man. He seemed to want to +hide his misfortune as fully as possible; and, since this did no harm, +the Master let him have his way. + +The bow was occupied by the Master and by Major Bohannan, with the +Master at the wheel. He seemed cool, collected, impassive; but +the major, of hotter Celtic blood, could not suppress his fidgety +nervousness. + +Intermittently he gnawed at his reddish mustache. A cigar, he felt, +would soothe and quiet him. Cigars, however, were now forbidden. So +were pipes and cigarettes. The Master did not intend to have even +their slight distraction coming between the minds of his men and the +careful, intricate plan before them. + +As the racer veered north, up the broad darkness of the Hudson--the +Hudson sparkling with city illumination on either hand, with still or +moving ships' lights on the breast of the waters--Bohannan murmured: + +"Even now, as your partner in this enterprise--" + +"My lieutenant," corrected the Master. + +"As second in command," amended Bohannan, irritably, "I'm not wholly +convinced this is the correct procedure." He spoke in low tones, +covered by the purring exhaust of the launch and by the hiss of +swiftly cloven waters. "It looks like unnecessary complication, to me, +and avoidable danger." + +"It is neither," answered the man at the wheel. "What would you have +done? What better plan could you have proposed?" + +"You could have built your own flyer, couldn't you? Since money's no +object to you, and you don't even know, accurately, how much you've +got--nobody can keep track of figures like those--why risk legal +interference and international complications at the start, by--" + +"To build the kind of flyer we need would have taken six or seven +months. Not all my money could have produced it, sooner. And absolute +ennui can't wait half a year. I'd have gone wholly stale, and so would +you, and all of them. We'd have lost them. + +"Again, news of any such operations would have got out. My plans would +possibly have been checkmated. In the third place, what you propose +would have been tame sport, indeed, as a beginning! Three excellent +reasons, my dear Major, why this is positively the only way." + +"Perhaps. But there's always the chance of failure, now. The guards--" + +"After your own experience, when that capsule burst in the laboratory, +you talk to me about guards?" + +"Suppose one escapes?" + +The Master only smiled grimly, and sighted his course up the dark +river. + +"And the alarm is sure to be given, in no time. Why didn't you just +buy the thing outright?" + +"It's not for sale, at any price." + +"Still--men can't run off with three and a half million dollars' worth +of property and with provisions and equipment like that, all ready for +a trial trip, without raising Hell. There'll be pursuit--" + +"What with, my dear Bohannan?" + +"That's a foolish statement of mine, the last one, I admit," answered +the major, as his companion swung the launch a little toward the +Jersey shore. "Of course nothing can overhaul us, once we're away. +But you know my type of mind weighs every possibility, pro and con. +Wireless can fling out a fan of swift aerial police ahead of us from +Europe." + +"How near can anything get to us?" + +"I know it all looks quite simple and obvious, in theory. +Nevertheless--" + +"Men of your character are useful, in places," said the Master, +incisively. "You are good in a charge, in sudden daring, in swift +attack. But in the approach to great decisions, you vacillate. That's +your racial character. + +"I'm beginning to doubt my own wisdom in having chosen you as next in +command. There's a bit of doubting Thomas in your ego. It's not +too late, yet, for you to turn back. I'll let you, as a special +concession. Brodeur will jump at the chance to be your successor." + +His hand swung the wheel, sweeping the racer in a curve toward the +Manhattan shore. Bohannan angrily pushed the spokes over again the +other way. + +"I stick!" he growled. "I've said the last word of this sort you'll +ever hear me utter. Full speed ahead--to Paradise--or Hell!" + +They said no more. The launch split her way swiftly toward the north. +By the vague, ghostly shimmer of light upon the waters, a tense smile +appeared on the steersman's lips. In his dark eyes gleamed the joy +which to some men ranks supreme above all other joys--that of bending +others to his will, of dominating them, of making them the puppets of +his fancy. + +Some quarter hour the racer hummed upriver. Keenly the Master kept +his lookout, picking up landmarks. Finally he spoke a word to +Captain Alden, who came forward to the engines. The Master's +cross-questionings of this man had convinced him his credentials were +genuine and that he was loyal, devoted, animated by nothing but the +same thirst for adventure that formed the driving power behind them +all. Now he was trusting him with much, already. + +"Three quarters speed," ordered the Master. The skilled hand of the +captain, well-versed in the operation of gas engines, obeyed the +command. The whipping breeze of their swift course, the hiss at the +bows as foam and water crumbled out and over, somewhat diminished. The +goal lay not far off. + +To starboard, thinning lights told the Master they were breasting +Spuyten Duyvil. To port, only a few scattered gleams along the base of +the cliff or atop it, showed that the sparsely settled Palisades were +drawing abeam. The ceaseless, swarming activities of the metropolis +were being left behind. Silence was closing in, broken only by vagrant +steamer-whistles from astern. + +A crawling string of lights, on the New York shore, told that an +express was hurling itself cityward. Its muffled roar began to echo +out over the star-flecked waters. The Master threw a scornful glance +at it. He turned in his seat, and peered at the shimmer of the city's +lights, strung like a luminous rosary along the river's edge. Then +he looked up at the roseate flush on the sky, flung there by the +metropolis as from the mouth of a crucible. + +"Child's play!" he murmured. "All this coming and going in +crowded streets, all this fighting for bread, and scheming over +pennies--child's play. Less than that--the blind swarming of ants! +Tomorrow, where will all this be, for us?" + +He turned back and thrust over the spokes. The launch drew in toward +the Jersey shore. + +"Let the engines run at half-speed," he directed, "and control her now +with the clutch." + +"Yes, sir!" + +The aviator's voice was sharp, precise, determined. The Master nodded +to himself with satisfaction. This man, he felt, would surely be a +valued member of the crew. He might prove more than that. There might +be stuff in him that could be molded to executive ability, in case +that should be necessary. + +The launch, now at half-speed, nosed her way directly toward the +cliff. Sounds from shore began to grow audible Afar, an auto siren +shrieked. A dog barked, irritatingly. A human voice came vaguely +hallooing. + +Off to the right, over the cliff brow, a faint aura of light was +visible. The eyes of the Master rested on this a moment, brightening. +He smiled again; and his hand tightened a little on the wheel. But all +he said was: + +"Dead slow, now, Captain Alden!" + +As the cliff drew near, its black brows ate across the sky, devouring +stars. The Master spoke in Arabic to Rrisa, who seized a boat hook +and came forward. Out of the gloom small wharf advanced to meet the +launch. The boat-hook caught; the launch, easing to a stop, cradled +against the stringpiece. + +Rrisa held with the hook, while Bohannan and Alden clambered out. +Before the Master left, he bent and seemed to be manipulating +something in the bottom of the launch. Then he stepped to the engine. + +"Out, Rrisa," he commanded, "and hold hard with the hook, now!" + +The Arab obeyed. All at once the propeller churned water, reversed. +The Master leaped to the wharf. + +"Let go--and throw the hook into the boat!" he ordered. + + +While the three others stood wondering on the dark wharf, the launch +began to draw slowly back into the stream. Already it was riding a bit +low, going down gradually by the bows. + +"What now?" questioned the major, astonished. + +"She will sink a hundred or two yards from shore, in deep water," +answered the Master, calmly. "The sea-cock is wide open." + +"A fifteen thousand dollar launch--!" + +"Is none the less, a clue. No man of this party, reaching the shore +tonight, is leaving any more trace than we are. Come, now, all this is +trivial. Forward!" + +In silence, they followed him along the dark wharf, reached a narrow, +rocky path that serpented up the face of the densely wooded cliff, +and began to ascend. A lathering climb it was, laden as they were with +heavy rucksacks, in the moonless obscurity. + +Now and then the Master's little searchlight--his own wonderful +invention, a heatless light like an artificial firefly, using no +batteries nor any power save universal, etheric rays in an absolute +vacuum--glowed with pale virescence over some particularly rough bit +of going. For the most part, however, not even this tiny gleam +was allowed to show. Silence, darkness, precision, speed were now +all-requisite. + +Twenty-four minutes from leaving the wharf, they stood among a +confused, gigantic chaos of boulders flung, dicelike, amid heavy +timbers on the brow of the Palisades. Off to the north, the faint, +ghostly aura dimly silhouetted the trees. Far below, the jetty river +trembled here, there, with starlight. + +They paused a moment to breathe, to shift straps that bound shoulders +not now hardened to such burdens. The Master glanced at the luminous +dial of his wrist-watch. + +"Almost to the dot," he whispered. "Seventeen minutes to midnight. At +midnight, sharp, we take possession. Come!" + +They trailed through a hard, rocky path among thick oak, pine, +and silver-birch. Now and then the little greenish-white light +will-o'-the-wisped ahead, flickering hither, yon. No one spoke a word. +Every footstep had to be laid down with care. After three minutes' +progress, the Master stopped, turned, held up his hand. + +"Absolute silence, now," he breathed. "The outer guards are now within +an eighth of a mile." + +They moved forward again. The light was no longer shown, but the +Master confidently knew the way. Bohannan felt a certain familiarity +with the terrain, which he had carefully studied on the large-scale +map he and the Master had used in planning the attack; but the +Master's intimate knowledge was not his. After two and one-half +minutes, the leader stopped again, and gestured at heavy fern-brakes +that could just be distinguished as black blotches in the dark of the +woods. + +"The exact spot," he whispered. "Take cover, and follow your memorized +orders!" + +He settled down noiselessly into the brakes. The others did likewise. +Utter silence fell, save for the far, vague roar of the city. A +vagrant little breeze was stirring the new foliage, through which a +few stars curiously peeped. The four men seemed far, very far from any +others. And yet-- + +_Were_ there any others near them? the major wondered. No sign, no +sound of them existed. Off to northward, where the dim glow ghosted up +against the sky, an occasional noise drifted to the night. A distant +laugh diffused itself through the dark. A dog yapped; perhaps the +same that they had heard barking, a few minutes before. Then came the +faint, sharp tapping of a hammer smiting metal. + +"They're knocking out the holding-pins," thought the major. "In a few +minutes it'll be too late, _if_ we don't strike now!" He felt a great +temptation to urge haste, on the Master. But, aware of the futility of +any suggestion, the risk of being demoted for any other _faux pas_, he +bridled his impatience and held still. + +Realizing that they were now lying at the exact distance of 440 yards +from the stockade that protected the thing they had come to steal--if +you can call "stealing" the forced sale the Master now planned +consummating, by having his bankers put into unwilling hands every +ultimate penny of the more than $3,500,000 involved, once the _coup_ +should be put through--realizing this fact, Bohannan felt the tug of a +profound excitement. + +His pulses quickened; the tension of his Celtic nerves keyed itself up +like a banjo-string about to snap. Steeled in the grim usages of +war though he was, and more than once having felt the heart-breaking +stress of the zero hour, this final moment of waiting, of suspense +before the attack that was so profoundly to affect his life and the +lives of all these other hardy men, pulled heavily at his nerves. He +desperately wanted a smoke, again, but that was out of the question. +It seemed to him, there in the dark and stillness, one of the fateful +moments of time, pregnant with possibilities unlimited. + +The Master, Alden, Rrisa, mere vague blurs among the ferns, remained +motionless. If their nerves were a-tingle, they gave no hint or sign +of it. Where might the others of the Legion be? No indication of +them could be made out. No other living thing seemed in the woods +encircling the stockade. Was each man really there and ready for the +predetermined role he was to play? + +It seemed incredible, fantastic, to suppose that all these +adventurers, each separate and alone, each having no contact, with +any other, should all have taken their assigned posts. That each, with +luminous watch on wrist, was even now timing himself, to the second, +before striking the single note calculated to produce, in harmony with +all the rest, the finished composition. Such an assumption partook +more of the stuff of an Arabian Nights tale than of stern reality in +this Twentieth Century and on the outskirts of the world's greatest +city. + +The Master, crouching, whispered: + +"Two minutes more! Keep your eyes on your watches, now. Get your +lethal guns ready! In 120 seconds, you will hear the first capsule +burst. Ten seconds after that, Alden, fire yours. Ten later, yours, +Bohannan. Ten later, yours, Rrisa. Listen hard! Hold steady!" + +The silence drew at them like a pain. Rrisa breathed something in +which the words: "_La Illaha ilia Allah_" transpired in a wraith of +sound. Alden nestled closer into the ferns. Bohannan could hardly hold +his poise. + +All three now had their capsule pistols ready. The self-luminous +compass and level attached to each gun gave them their exact direction +and elevation. Glimmering watches marked the time, the dragging of the +last few seconds. + +The Master drew no weapon. His mind, directing all, observing all, was +not to be distracted by even so small a detail as any personal hand in +the discharge of the lethal gas. + +If he felt the strain of the final moment, on which hung vaster +issues than mere life or death, he gave no indication of it. His eyes +remained fixed on the watch-dial at his wrist. They were confident, +those eyes. The vague shimmer of the watch-glow showed them dark and +grave; his face, faintly revealed, was impassive, emotionless. + +It seemed the face of a scientist, a chemist who--having worked out +his formula to its ultimate minutiae--now felt utter trust in its +reactions, now was only waiting to observe what he well knew must +inevitably happen. + +"Thirty seconds more," he whispered, and fell silent. Presently, after +what seemed half an hour: "Fifteen!" + +Another long wait. The Master breathed: + +"In just five seconds the first capsule will burst there!" He pointed +with assurance. "In two--in one--" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +THE SILENT ATTACK + +At the exact instant when the second hand notched to the minute's +edge, and in precisely the spot indicated, a slight, luminous spot +became dimly visible above the trees. The spot took uncertain form +high above the ghost-glow rising from the unseen stockade. For an +instant it hung suspended, pale-greenish, evanescent. + +Then, as a faint plop! drifted to the watchers--a sound no louder +than a feeble clack of the tongue--this indefinite luminosity began to +sink, to fade, falling slowly, gradually dissipating itself in the dim +light over the stockade. + +The Master nodded, smiling, with never any hint of praise or +approbation. The fulfilment of his order was to him no other than it +is to you, when you drop a pebble into water, to hear the splash of +it. That his plan should be working out, seemed to him a perfectly +obvious, inevitable thing. The only factor that could possibly have +astonished him, just now, would have been the nonappearance of that +slight, luminous cloudlet at the precise spot and moment designated. + +Neither Bohannan, Alden, nor Rrisa was watching the slow descent of +the lethal gas. All three had their eyes fixed on their own lethal-gas +pistols and on their watches. At mathematically the correct second, +Bohannan discharged his piece, correctly sighting direction and +elevation. + +As he pressed trigger, a light sighing eased itself from the slim +barrel. Something flicked through the leaves; and, almost on the +instant, the phenomenon of the little phosphorescent spot repeated +itself, though in a different place from the first one. Captain +Alden's and Rrisa's shots produced still other blurs of virescence. + +Then, as they all waited, crouching, came another and another tiny +explosion, high aloft, at precisely ten-second intervals. Here, there, +they developed, until twenty-nine of these strange, bubble-like things +had burst above and all about the huge enclosure. Then darkness and +silence once more settled down. + +Nothing seemed to have happened. Night still reigned, starry with +glimpses of sky through wind-swayed trees. One would have said +everything still remained precisely as it had been before. + +Yet presently, within the stockade or near it, a certain uneasy +_melange_ of sounds began to develop. Here a cry became audible, there +a command. A startled voice called an order, but suddenly fell silent, +half-way through it. The worrying of the dog ceased with eloquent +suddenness. A curse died, unfinished. + +And silence, as perfect as the silence of the unseen watchers strung +all about the periphery of the stockade, once more dominated the +night. + +For precisely ten minutes, nothing broke that silence--minutes +during all of which the Master remained calmly waiting, with grave +confidence. Bohannan shuddered a little. His Celtic imagination was at +work, again. Uncanny the attack seemed to him, unreal and ghostlike. +So, perhaps, might strange, unbelievable creatures from some other +planet attack and conquer the world, noiselessly, gently, irrevocably. + +This assault was different from any other ever made since man and man +first began battling together in the dim twilights of the primeval. +Not with shout and cheer did it rush forward, nor yet with venomous +gases that gave the alarm, that choked, that strangled, that tortured. + +Silence and concealment, and the invisible blight of sleep, like the +greater numbing that once fell on the hosts of Sennacherib, enfolded +all opposition. All who would have stood against the Legion, simply +sighed once, perhaps spoke a few disjointed words, then sank into +oblivion. + +So far as anyone could see, save for the bursting of twenty-nine +insignificant little light-bubbles, in mid-air, nothing at all had +happened. And yet tremendously much had happened, inside the huge +stockade. + +Ten minutes to a dot had drifted by, seeming at least six times as +long, when all at once the Master stood up. + +"The gas has dissipated enough now," said he, "so that we can advance +in safety. Come!" + +The three also arose, half at his command, half from the independent +impulses given them by their watches as these came to the designated +second for the forward movement. The Master blew no whistle, gave no +signal to the many others scattered all through those darkly silent +woods; but right and left, and over beyond the stockade, he knew with +the precision of a mathematical equation every man was at that exact +moment also arising, also obeying orders, also preparing to close +in on the precious thing whereof they meant to make themselves the +owners. + +Forward the Master made his way, with the three others of his +immediate escort. Though there no longer existed any need of silence, +hardly a word was spoken. Something vast, imminent, overpowering, +seemed to have laid its finger on the lips of all, to have muted them +of speech. + +The vacuum-lights, however, were now freely flashing in the little +party, as it advanced directly toward the stockade. The men clambered +over rocks, through bushes, across fallen logs. Rrisa stopped, +suddenly, played his light on a little bundle of gray fur, and touched +it with a curious finger. It was a squirrel, curled into a tiny ball +of oblivion. + +Alden's foot narrowly missed the body of a sleeping robin. An owl, +lodged in the fork of a tree, moved not as the men passed. It, too, +was whelmed in deep, temporary Nirvana. + +The party's next find arrested them, with a thrill of genuine +emotion, a triumph that could not be denied some few half-whispered +exclamations of exultation from the Master's three companions. He +himself was the only one who spoke no word. But, like the others, he +had stopped and was pointing the beam of his light on the figure lying +inert among broken bushes. + +With his toe he touched this figure. His light picked up the man's +face from the gloom. That face was looking at him with wide-open eyes. +The eyes saw nothing; but a kind of overwhelming astonishment still +seemed mirrored there, caught in the last moment of consciousness as +the man had fallen. + +The effect was startling, of that sleeping face, those open eyes, that +lax mouth. The man was breathing easily, peacefully as a tired child. +The Master's brows contracted a little. His lips tightened. Then he +nodded, and smiled the ghost of a smile. + +"Lord!" exclaimed Bohannan, half awed by the weirdness of the +apparition. "Staring at us, that way--and all! Is he asleep?" + +"Try him in any way your ingenuity may suggest," answered the Master, +while Alden blinked strangely through his eyeholes, and Rrisa in +Arabic affirmed that there is no God but Allah. "Try to force some +sense-impression to his brain. It is sleep, but it is more than that. +The best experiment for any doubting Thomas to employ is just to waken +this guard--if possible." + +Bohannan shook his head. + +"No," he answered, "I'm not going to make a fool of myself. There's no +going against any of your statements. I'm beginning to find that out, +definitely. Let's be on our way!" + +The Master spoke a few quick words of Arabic to his orderly. Rrisa +knelt by the prostrate man. Then, while the Master kept the light-beam +on him, Rrisa unbuckled the guard's belt, with cartridges and holster +containing an ugly snouted gun. This belt the Arab slung round his own +body. He arose. In silence, leaving the unconscious man just as he had +fallen, they once more pushed onward. + +Lights were beginning to gleam ahead, now, in what appeared to be a +long, high line. The trees half hid them, but moment by moment they +appeared more distinctly. Meantime, too, the glow over the stockade +was getting stronger. Presently the trees ceased; and there before +them the men saw a wide, cleared space, a hundred feet of empty land +between the woods and a tall, stout fence topped with live wires and +with numerous incandescents. + +"Nice place to tackle, if anybody were left to defend it!" commented +Bohannan. None of the others answered. The Master started diagonally +across the cleared space, toward a cluster of little buildings and +stout gate-posts. + +Hardly had they emerged from the woods, when, all up and down the +line, till it was broken by the woods at both ends where the stockade +joined its eastern and western wall, other men began appearing. And +all, alike, converged toward the gate. + +But to these, the little party of four gave no heed. Other men +absorbed their interest--sleeping men, now more and more thickly +scattered all along the stockade. Save for a slight, saline tang +to the air--an odor by no means unpleasant--nothing remained of the +lethal gas. + +But its victims still lay there, prone, in every possible attitude of +complete and overpowering abandonment. And all, as the party of four +passed, were quickly disarmed. Up and down the open space, other +Legionaries were at the same work. + +The Master and his companions reached the gate-house first of any +in the party. The gate was massive, of stout oaken planks heavily +strapped with iron. About it, and the gate-house, a good many +guards were lying. All showed evidence of having dropped asleep with +irresistible suddenness. + +Some were gaping, others foolishly grinning as if their last sensation +had been agreeable--as indeed it had been--while others stared +disconcertingly. The chin of one showed an ugly burn where his Turkish +cigarette had sagged, and had smoldered to extinction on the flesh. + +One had a watch in his hand, while another gripped a newspaper. In the +gate-house, two had fallen face downward on the table that occupied +the center of the rough room; checker-pieces lay scattered from the +game they had been playing. Several men sprawled just outside the +little house, on the platform. Under the incandescents, the effect +grew weird. + +Bohannan shuddered, as he glanced from one to another, then up at some +of the approaching men of the expedition. Rrisa affirmed that Mohammed +was indeed the prophet of Allah, and that the ways of the _Nasara_ +were most strange. + +"Good!" exclaimed the Master, with his first word of approval. Even +his aplomb was a little shaken by the complete success of the attack. +"It's all working like a clock." + +"How about disarming these men, sir?" queried Captain Alden. + +"No. They fall under the orders of another group." + +"The way is clear, then--" + +"Absolutely! These men will sleep almost precisely thirty minutes. The +way is clear ahead of us. Forward into the Palisade!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +THE NEST OF THE GREAT BIRD + +As the little group of four penetrated into the enclosure which but a +few moments before had been guarded all round its perimeter by a small +army of determined men, more and more of the Legionaries began to +concentrate toward the entrance. + +Silently they came, with almost the precision of automata in some +complex mechanical process. All were obeying the Master's will, +because obedience was sweet to them; because it spelled adventure, +freedom, life. + +Now and then one stopped, bent, arose with some added burden taken +from a fallen guard. Not one guard was to be injured in any manner. +Human life was not to be taken. But nothing in the way of armament was +to be left, by way of possible danger to the Legion. And already the +telephone-wires had been effectively cut. + +All the approaching Legionaries wore rucksacks, and all were in their +respective uniforms, though every man still wore a long coat that +concealed it. A few groups of two appeared, bearing rather heavy +burdens. + +The Master smiled again, and nodded, as he paused a moment at the +gate to peer down, along the line of the clearing between stockade and +forest. + +"Here come some of the machine-guns," said he. "I shall be vastly +surprised if one man or one single bit of equipment fails to appear on +schedule time. Nothing like system, Bohannan--that, and knowing how to +choose your men!" + +He turned, and the other three followed him into the enclosure. +Outside, all was developing according to plans and specifications. +They four were to be pioneers into the jealously guarded space +that for so long had been the mystery of the continent, yes, of the +civilized world. + +The whole enclosure was well lighted with a profusion of electric +lamps. At first view, quite a bewildering mass of small buildings +appeared; but second glance showed order in them all. Streets had been +laid out, as in a town; and along these streets stood drafting-sheds, +workshops, storehouses, commissary offices, dwellings for the workers, +guards, and bosses. A well-built cottage on the main, forward-going +road that led from the gate to an inner stockade, was probably +headquarters for the chief engineers. + +Not one sign of conscious life appeared. Men were lying here, there, +in the roadways, in the porches, in the shadow of the power-plant +where dynamos were still merrily singing. Few were armed. Most of them +here were workers, judging by their garb and by the tools still in +some hands. + +The four pioneers gave them no heed, but pushed steadily on. In the +road lay a couple of pigeons, farther on a sparrow, and still farther +a sleeping dog, showed how complete had been the effect of the lethal +pellets. + +The inner stockade was now close. It stood about twice as high as the +outer, was also topped with live wires and lights, and was loopholed +for defense. This formidable barrier was pierced by a small gate, +flanked by two machine-guns. On the gate-post was affixed an elaborate +set of rules regarding those who might and might not enter. The Master +smiled dryly, and opened the gate. + +Even from without, the loom of the monstrous airship had been visible. +The eye could hardly at first glance take in the vastness of this +stupendous thing, that overshadowed all the central portion of the +huge enclosure. It gave a sense of power, of swift potentialities, of +speed unlimited. It stood there, tense, ready, waiting, with a hum +of engines audible in its vast heart, a thing almost of life, man's +creation but how illimitably greater than man! + +For a moment, as this tremendous winged fabric came to the Master's +view, he halted, and a look of exultation, pride, and joy came over +his face. But only for a moment. Quite at once his dark eyes veiled +themselves with their habitual impassivity. Once more he strode +forward, the others following him. + +Now that they were inside the second barrier--where sleeping men were +scattered more thickly than ever--they stood under the very wings of +the most stupendous hydroplane ever conceived by the brain of man or +executed by the cunning of his hand. + +That this hydroplane had been almost on the moment of departure for +its trial trip, was proved by the sleepers. Two were on the gangplank +leading up to the entrance door in the fuselage. A number who had been +knocking out the last holding-pins of the last shackles that bound it +to its cradle, had fallen to earth, their sledge-hammers near at hand. + +In the pilot-house, a figure had collapsed across the sill of an +observation window. And the engines, purring softly, told that all had +been in readiness for the throwing-in of the clutches that would have +set the vast propellers spinning with roaring speed. + +"Yes, they were certainly just on the dot of getting away," said the +Master, nodding as he glanced at his watch. "This couldn't be better. +Gas, oil, stores, everything ready. What more proof do you require, my +dear Bohannan, of the value of exact coordination?" + +The major could only answer: "Yes, yes--" He seemed quite amazed by +this extraordinary mechanism--gigantic, weird, unreal in the garish +electric lights. Rrisa was frankly staring, for once shaken out of his +fatalistic Mussulman tranquillity. + +As for Captain Alden, he stood there a compact, small figure in his +long coat with the rucksack strapped to his shoulders, peering up with +the eye of the connoisseur. His smile was of contentment absolute. + +"My beauty--ah, my beauty!" he was murmuring. + +Then, in the presence of this mighty thing, silence fell on all. The +major set hands on hips, blinked, puckered his lips, and silently +whistled. His expression was half incredulous, half enthusiastic. + +What Alden was thinking revealed itself by the sparkle of his eyes +through the holes of the mask behind the goggles. Expressionless +though that terribly mutilated face had to remain, you could sense in +the man's whole attitude the exultation of the expert ace as he beheld +the perfect machine. + +The droning of the engines came distinctly to them all, a low, steady, +powerful note, beautiful in its steady undertones of strength. Behind +the little group, a few involuntary exclamations of astonishment and +joy became audible, as some of the Legionaries came into the second +enclosure. + +Without, blows on metal sharply resounded. The Master smiled again, as +he realized his orders were going on with exact precision. + +"That's the wireless they're putting out of commission," thought he, +glancing at his watch again. "No mere untuning of wave-lengths. +Good, old-fashioned hammer-blows! This station won't work again for a +while!" + +Bohannan, meantime, was trying to get some general impression of the +giant plane. Not all the Master's descriptions of it, to him, had +quite prepared him for the reality. Though he well knew all the +largest, biggest machines in the world, this stupendous creation +staggered him. By comparison with the Handley-Page, the Caproni, the +D.H.-4, the Gotha 90-120, the Sikorsky, it spread itself as an eagle +spreads beside a pigeon. + +It lay in a kind of metallic cradle, almost like a ship ready for +launching on its ways. Ahead of it, metal plates stretched away like +rails, running toward the lip of the Palisades. Its quadruple floats, +each the size of a tugboat and each capable of being exhausted of air, +constituted a potential lifting-force of enclosed vacuums that +very largely offset the weight of the mechanism. It was still a +heavier-than-air machine, but the balance could be made nearly +perfect. And the six helicopters, whose cylindrical, turbine-like +drums gleamed with metallic glitters--three on each side along the +fuselage--could at will produce an absolutely static condition of lift +or even make the plane hover and soar quite vertically. + +There the monster lay, outstretching its enormous sextuple wings, each +wing with an area of 376 by 82.5 feet. The non-inflammable celluloid +surfaces shone white as fresh-cut ivory, clean, smooth, unbreakable. +The plane reminded one of some Brobdingnagian dragon-fly, resting for +flight, shimmering with power as it poised for one swift leap aloft +into the night. + +Bohannan, still a bit confused, noted the absence of any exhaust from +the speeding engines. This, too, gave a sense of vast, self-contained +power. He saw stupendous propeller-blades, their varnished surfaces +flicking out high-lights as the incandescents struck them. Motionless +these propellers were; but something in their tense, clean sweep +told of the raging cyclone to which they could whip the air, once the +spinning engines should be clutched in on their shafts. + +The captain's eyes wandered over the whole enormous construction, +towering there above him. He saw rows of lighted windows, each cased +in shining metal; a V-pointed pilot-house--the same where the still +figure had dropped over the sill of the open window--a high-raised +rudder of artful curve, vast as the broadside of a barn; railed +galleries running along the underbody of the fuselage, between the +floats and far aft of them. + +Everything gleamed and flickered with bright metal, varnish, snowy +celluloid. The body of the machine looked capable of housing twice as +many men as the Legion numbered. But everything, after all, was quite +shrunk by the overpowering sweep of the wings. These dwarfed the +fast-gathering group that stood peering up at them, like pygmies under +the pinions of the fabled roc in Sinbad the Sailor's story. + +These stupendous wings, the captain now saw, were not braced together +by hampering struts and wires, but seemed cantilevered into position, +giving a clean run to the structure, great simplicity, and the acme of +mechanical beauty. This giant bird of heaven lay in its nest, free of +pattern, powerful beyond any air-mechanism ever built by man, almost +a living thing, on whose back its captors might ride aloft defying man +and nature, to whatsoever goal they chose. + +"Everything is ready," said the Master. "That is quite obvious. Let us +get aboard now, with no further delay, and be off!" + +He drew a little notebook from his pocket, took a pencil, and faced +the gathering group inside the second stockade. + +"Stow your equipment," he directed "according to your orders. Ten +minutes will be enough for you to unload your machine-guns and all +gear, each in the assigned space. Bring out all the sleeping men and +lay them down along the stockade, here. Injure no man. Valdez, are the +take-off gates, over the Palisade, correctly opened?" + +A dark, thin man saluted, as he answered with a Spanish accent: + +"Yes, sir. Everything is ready, sir." + +"Very well. Now, all to work! And then, each to his place, in +engine-room, cabins, or however and where assigned. Come, come!" + +As the men trailed up the gangplank, that steeply rose to the sliding +door in the fuselage, the Master checked them on his list. Not one was +absent. He shut the notebook with a snap, and slid it back into his +pocket. + +"This goes on well," he commented to the major. "So far, we are within +three minutes, eighteen seconds, of schedule." + +The little group of four stood waiting, watching, while the others +carried out all orders, aboard. There was no hesitation, no confusion. +Each had already learned the exact plan of the airship. Each knew +precisely where every door led, what each passageway meant; each +understood perfectly his own post and what to do there. + +Two by two, Legionaries came down the gangplank, bearing limp bodies. +These they laid in a row along the stockade, till seventeen had +accumulated. No more came. + +A figure appeared in the sliding doorway, and saluted. + +"The last sleeper is out, sir," he reported. + +The Master nodded, and gestured to his three companions. The group of +four ascended the sharp tilt of the plank and entered the airship. As +they did so, Legionaries hoisted the plank aboard, with its tackle, +and lashed it to the waiting chocks. Others could be heard, in the +penetralia of the vast structure, coming, going, busily at work. + +The entrance door slid shut. A bolt shot home. All the Legion was now +aboard, and communication with the ground had been broken. + +The four men found themselves in a brightly lighted corridor that led +directly across the fuselage to a similar door on the other side. This +corridor was of some metal, painted a glossy white. Doors opened out +of it, on either hand. Its length was just a few inches over +forty-two feet. Half-way along it, a wider corridor crossed it at right +angles--the main passage of the ship. + +The Master led the way toward this median corridor. His tall, +big-shouldered figure swung along, triumphant, impressive in the long +coat, dominant and free. Followed by the other three, he turned to the +left, forward of the ship. + +The main corridor, like the other, was flanked by doors. Two or three +stood open, giving glimpses of comfortable staterooms. The men's +footfalls sounded with softened tread on a strip of thick, brown +carpet that made pleasant contrast with the gleaming white walls. +Light from frosted glass circles, flush with walls and ceiling, made +the corridor bright as day. + +The Master walked with the confident precision of one who already +had passed that way a score of times. He opened the third door on the +left--it slid into the wall, instead of swinging, thus economizing +space--and all entered what was obviously the main saloon of the giant +plane. + +This saloon measured seventeen feet six inches, from corridor to +windows, and twenty-nine fore-and-aft. It was furnished with a +center-table, book-cases, easy-chairs, two commodious sofa-lockers, +and had an excellent carpet. Bohannan noted a Victrola, with many +records. + +Like all parts of the ship, its lighting was splendid. Well-curtained +windows gave it a homelike air. At first glance, one would have +thought oneself in a rather luxurious private house; but second +inspection showed all possible construction and furnishings were +of aluminum alloy, of patterns designed to cut weight to the lowest +minimum. + +The walls bore lightly framed photographs of men famous in the +annals of flying, from Santos-Dumont and the Wrights to Gruynemer +and Nosworthy; also pictures of famous machines--the Spad, Bristol +Fighter, Sopwith Pup, 120-135, and others. More conspicuous than +any of these was a framed copy of the International Air Commission's +latest condensed rules. + +Signs of recent occupancy were not wanting. An extinct cigar lay on +the carpet, where it had fallen from the mouth of some airman swiftly +overtaken by sleep. The table bore an open cigar-box, several packs +of cigarettes with loose "fags" scattered round, and a number of +champagne bottles. + +Two of these were opened; one had been emptied. The other had lost +part of its contents. Several champagne glasses stood on the table, +and one lay on its side, where perhaps a falling hand had overset it. +In one of the glasses, a few last, vagrant little bubbles were still +rising from the tall, hollow stem. + +"Hm!" grunted the Master contemptuously. "Fools! Well--there'll be no +alcohol aboard this craft!" He loosened the buckles of his rucksack, +and cast the burden on one of the sofa-lockers. The others did as +much. + +"Shall we stow the gear in our cabins?" asked Bohannan, gesturing at +the doors that led off the saloon. + +"Not yet," answered the Master, glancing at the chronometer that hung +beside the air-rules. "Time enough to get settled, later. Every second +counts, now. We're due to start in seven minutes, you know. Rrisa will +attend to all this. We three have got to be getting forward to the +pilot-house." + +Bohannan nodded. + +"Let's have some air in here, anyhow," said he, turning toward one of +the windows. "This place is damned hot!" + +"We'll need all the heat, soon," the Master commented. "At a few +thousand feet, the engine-exhaust through those radiators won't be any +too much. Forward!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +THE EAGLE OF THE SKY + +He slid open another door. The three men passed through the captain's +cabin and pilot-house. This place measured twelve feet on its longer +axis and nine on its shorter, being of approximately diamond shape +with one point forward in the very nose of the machine, one ending in +a door that gave access to the main, longitudinal corridor, and the +right and left points joining the walls of the backward-sloping prow. +It contained two sofa-lockers with gas-inflated, leather cushions, a +chart-rack, pilot's seat, controls, and instrument-board. + +The whole front was a magnificent stretch of double plate-glass, with +warm air between the sheets to keep snow, frost, or dew from obscuring +the vision. Bright light flooded it. + +Though one window had been slid partly open--the window on the sill of +which the sleeping aviator had lain--a scent of cigarette-smoke still +permeated the place. The Master sniffed with disgust. Then suddenly, +to the great astonishment of Bohannan, he commanded: + +"Bring me that champagne, in the saloon. All of it!" + +The major opened wide eyes, but unquestioningly obeyed. Could it be +possible the Master, in this moment of exultation, was about to break +his lifelong rule and drink a toast, in sparkling bubbles, to success +thus far achieved, to the stupendous voyage now about to begin? + +Wondering, Bohannan departed. The Master gestured for Captain Alden to +seat himself on one of the lockers. Alden kept complete silence as +he sat down, crossed one leg over the other and began to study the +complex apparatus before him. Most of it was familiar; but some new +factors needed inspection. + +The Master peered curiously at him. Surely, this man was odd, unusual. +Most aviators, thus confronted by strange problems, would have grown +loquacious, tried to exhibit their knowledge, asked questions, made +much talk. But Alden held his tongue. + +A look of appreciation, of liking, came upon the Master's face. It was +just the suspicion of a look, for in all this strange man's life no +great show of emotion ever had been permitted to mirror itself upon +his countenance. But still, the look was there. He half opened his +lips, as if to speak, then closed them again, and--like Alden--fell to +studying the control apparatus. + +All was beautifully arranged, all nicely calculated for instant +use. Not here, as in small machines, could the pilot handle his own +engines, tilt his planes, or manipulate his rudders by hand. That +would have been as absurd to think of, as for the steersman of an +ocean liner to work without the intervention of steam steering-gear. + +No, these controls actuated various motors that, using current from +the dynamos, produced the desired action with smooth and certain +promptness. A turn of the wrist, perhaps no more than the touch of +a finger, and the whole vast creation would respond as easily as a +child's toy can be manipulated by a strong man's hand. + +Hooded dials, brightly lighted push-buttons, a telephone headpiece and +receiver combined, and switches all lay in easy reach. Here was the +tachometer, that would give to a fraction the revolutions of each +screw per minute; here the altimeter, to indicate height; here the +air-speed indicator, the compass with reflector, the inclinometer, the +motometers--to show the heat in each engine--and there, the switch to +throw on the gigantic searchlight, with the little electric wheel to +control its direction, as accurately as you would point a wand. + +Throttle and spark, of course, there were none. All engine control was +by telephone, with the engine-room which lay a little aft of midships. +But the controls of the vacuum apparatus were within easy reach, so +that at will the pilot could exhaust the floats, or fill them. + +Here were the starting, stopping, and speed controls of the +helicopters, which were under direct electrical motivation by the +pilot. Here also were the magnetic-anchor release and the air-skid +pump control; here were telephonic connections with the wireless-room +and with the fore-and-aft observation pits, where observers were +already lying on their cushions upon the heavy, metal-reinforced glass +floor-plates. + +"This is really very complete," approved the Master. Not Alden, but +he, had been first to speak. The Master spoke half against his own +wish, but a resistless impulse to make some comment, in this moment of +triumph, possessed him. + +"Only as expected, sir," replied Alden. The Master bit his lip a +second, and said no more. + +Bohannan's return with several champagne bottles in his arms, put an +end to any possible developments the terse conversation might have +had. + +"Well, sir," said the major, "here it all is. And I've got glasses +in my pocket--and a corkscrew, sir. It never does to forget the +corkscrew! We'll drink to happy days, eh, sir?" + +Already the Celt's mouth was watering for draughts of the precious +liquid. Joy pervaded him that, for once at least, the iron rule of the +Master was to be broken, and that the journey was to begin with proper +libations. The Master's curt syllables, however, instantly dispelled +any illusions he might have entertained on that score. + +"Drop them all out that open window, there," commanded the Master. + +"What, sir? Good Pommery? Veuve?" + +"No argument, Bohannan! Out they go!" + +Dismayed, the Celt did the other's bidding, while Alden smiled grimly. +Far below, glass crashed and jangled. + +"What's the idea?" demanded the major ruefully. + +"You know very well, Major, my ruling on alcohol. It doesn't mix with +any motive power on this trip. Moreover, it's customary to christen +every launching with champagne. We've done it!" + +"Well, that's not so bad an idea, at that," Bohannan admitted, +scratching his fiery head. "What name have you given this bus?" + +"_Nissr Arrib ela Sema._" + +"Come again, sir?" + +"Eagle of the Sky, in Arabic. I suppose we'll have to cut that down to +_Nissr_, for everyday use. But at any rate, our craft is christened. +Well, now--" + +He settled himself in the pilot's seat, reached forward and drew +toward him a shining metal shaft. Four stout spokes unfolded; and from +these, quadrants of a rim that easily snapped together. The Master +laid one hand easily on the rim of the big steering-wheel, flung his +cap upon a locker, pulled down the telephone headpiece and snapped it +on. + +He touched a button. The light died in the pilot-house, leaving only +the hooded glows of the dials, switches, and small levers. Night +seemed suddenly to close in about the vast machine. Till now it +had been forgotten, ignored. But as darkness fingered at the panes, +something of the vastness of sky and air made itself realized; +something of the illimitable scope of this adventuring. + +Bohannan slid the window shut and settled himself beside Captain +Alden. He glanced at his wrist-watch, and a thrill of nervous +exultation stabbed him. + +"Only two minutes and six seconds more!" he murmured, gnawing at his +mustache and blinking with excitement. Alden remained calm, impassive +as the Master himself, who now, pressing another button, sent a beam +of wonderful, white light lancing through the darkness. + +Track, buildings, trees all leaped into vivid relief as he tested the +searchlight control. He shot the beam up, up, till it lost itself, +vaguely, in mist and cloud; then flung it even across the river, where +it picked out buildings with startling detail. + +He turned it, finally, square down the launching-way, through the +yawning gates where the track abruptly ended at the brow of the +Palisades--the empty chasm where, if all went right and no mistake +had been made in build, engine-power, or control, the initial leap of +_Nissr Arrib ela Sema_ was to be made. + +Came a moment's wait. Faintly the pulsing of the engines trembled +the fabric of _Nissr_. Finely balanced as they were, they still +communicated some slight vibration to the ship. The Master snicked the +switch of the magnetic-anchor release; and now the last bond that held +_Nissr_ to her cradle was broken. As soon as the air-skid currents +should be set going, she would be ready for her flight. + +This moment was not long in coming. Another turn of a switch, and all +at once, far below, a faint, continuous hissing made itself audible. +Compressed air, forced through thousands of holes at the bottom of the +floats, was interposing a gaseous cushion between those floats and the +track, just as it could do between them and the earth wherever _Nissr_ +should alight. + +Suspended thus on a thin layer of air, perhaps no more than a +sixteenth of an inch thick but infinitely less friction-producing than +the finest ball-bearing wheels and quite incapable of being broken, +the ship now waited only the application of the power in her vast +propellers. + +"Let in numbers two and four," commanded the Master, suddenly, into +the engine-room telephone. "In five seconds after we start, hook up +one and three; and five later, the other two." + +"Aye, aye, sir," came back the voice of Auchincloss, chief engineer. +"Ready, sir!" + +Almost at once, the vibration of the engines altered, grew more +marked, seemed to be taking hold of something with strong but easy +effort. Another trembling made itself felt, as two of the giant +screws, connected by reducing-gears with the engine-shafting--all +three engines being geared to one shaft, but any one being capable of +separate running--began to revolve. + +From astern, a dull, droning hum mounted, rose, grew rapidly in volume +and power. And, as two more screws began to whirl, the Eagle of the +Sky shook herself slightly. She awoke from slumber. Steadily, smoothly +on her air-cushions she began to move forward down the long, sloping +trackway to the brink of the cliff. + +"Lord above!" breathed Bohannan, chewing at his nails. "We're off!" + +Neither the Master nor Captain Alden moved, spoke, manifested any +excitement whatever. Both might have been graven images of coolness. +The Celt, however, got up and leaned at the window-jamb, unable to +keep still. He turned suddenly to Alden. + +"Come, man!" he exclaimed, half angrily. "Got no heart in you, eh? No +interest? Come along out of that, now, and see what's what!" + +He laid hold on the captain, and drew him to the window as the airship +accelerated her plunge along the rails. The hum of the propellers +had now risen to a kind of throaty roar; the craft was shaking with +strange quivers that no doubt would cease if she but once could launch +herself into the air. Under her, in and in, the shining metal rails +came running swiftly and more swiftly still, gleaming silver-like +under the vivid beam of the searchlight. + +Wind began to rise up against the glass of the pilot-house; the wind +of _Nissr's_ own making. + +Cool as if in his own easy-chair in the observatory, the Master sat +there, hand on wheel. Then all at once he reached for the rising-plane +control, drew it over, and into the telephone spoke sharply: + +"Full speed ahead, now! Give her all she's got!" + +A shout, was it? Many shouts, cries, execrations! But where? Over +the roar of the propellers, confused sounds won to the men in the +pilot-house. And all at once, by the dim aura of diffused light +reflected from the huge beam, the major saw dim figures running, off +there to the left, among the buildings of the stockade. + +"For the Lord's sake!" he cried, amazed, with drooping jaw. +"Men--after us! Look there--_look_!" + +The Master remained utterly impassive, eyes keen on the in-rushing +track, now close to its abrupt ending over the vacancy of space. +Captain Alden's pupils narrowed, through the mask-holes, but he said +nothing. Bohannan gripped the captain's shoulder painfully, then +reached for the pistol in his own holster. + +"They're on to us!" he vociferated. "Somebody's got wise--they're--" + +Little red spurts of fire began to jet, among the buildings; the +crackling of shots started popping, like corn-kernels exploding. Dark +figures were racing for the Palisade gate--the gate where, if any +slightest thing went wrong with track or giant plane, the whole vast +fabric might crash down, a tangled mass of wreckage. + +Then it was, that for the first time in all his knowledge of the +Master, Bohannan heard the strange man laugh. + +Joyously he laughed, and with keen pleasure. His eyes were blazing, as +he thrust the rising-plane lever sharply up. + +More shouts volleyed. From somewhere back there in the body of the +ship, a cry of pain resounded. + +Bohannan flung the window-pane to one side, and blazed away like mad +at the attackers. + +A shatter of broken glass burst into the pilot-house. Alden, catching +his breath, quivered. He uttered no outcry, but his right hand went +across and clutched his wounded left arm. + +"Got you?" cried the major, still pumping lead. He paused, jerked +Alden's automatic from its holster and thrust it into the captain's +hand, now red. + +Alden, a bit pale but quite impassive, opened fire through the jagged +hole in the double pane. Accurately the captain fired at dark figures. +One fell. Another staggered; but as the machine swept on, they lost +sight of it. + +Men rose up before the rushing airship. One of the great gates began +to swing shut, far at the end of the track. The Master laughed again, +with the wind whipping at his hair. "Full speed ahead!" he shouted +into the telephone. + +The _Nissr_ leaped into a swifter course. Then all at once she skidded +clear of the track, slanted upward, breasted the air. Her searchlight +blazed. All along her flanks, fire-jets spangled the night. Cries +echoed from her, from the great stockade. + +The Master gave her all the lift the farthest wrench of the levers +would thrust on her. The gate was almost shut now--would she clear it? + +Below, track, earth, everything was spinning in and in. Ahead, above, +yawned vastnesses. The Master could no longer see the gate. A second +of taut thrill-- + +_Crash_! + +The _Nissr_ quivered, staggered, yawed away. The forward starboard +float had struck. A faint yell rose as someone, hurled backward by the +shattered _debris_ of the gate, plunged down the cliff. + +For half a second, the giant plane reeled over the abyss. Her rush and +fury for that half-second threatened to plunge her, a mangled, flaming +wreck, hundreds of feet down on the black, waiting rocks below the +Palisades. + +But engine-power and broad wings, skill of the hand at the levers, and +the good fortune that watches over bold men, buoyed her again. + +Suddenly she lifted. Up at a dizzy angle she sped. + +A thing of life, quivering, sentient, unleashed, the gigantic Eagle +of the Sky--now in heroic flight toward the greatest venturing ever +conceived by the brain of man--steadied herself, lifted on the wings +of darkness, and, freed from her last bonds, leaped quivering and +triumphant into the night. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +EASTWARD HO! + +Not all the stern discipline that had been enforced by the +Master--discipline already like a second nature to this band of +adventurous men--could quite prevent a little confusion on board the +Eagle of the Sky. + +As the huge machine crashed, plunged, staggered, then righted herself +and soared aloft, shouts echoed down the corridors, shots crackled +from the lower gallery and from a few open ports. + +At sound of them, and of faint, far cries from the Palisades, with +a futile spatter of pistol-and rifle-fire, the Master frowned. This +intrusion of disorder lay quite outside his plans. He had hoped for a +swift and quiet getaway. Complications had been introduced. Under his +breath he muttered something as he manipulated the controls. + +The major, laughing a bit wildly, leaned from the shattered window and +let drive a few last pot-shots into the dark, at the faint flicker +of lights along the crest of the black cliff. In the gloom of the +pilot-house, his shoulders bulked huge as he fired. Captain Alden, +staggering back, sat down heavily on one of the sofa-lockers. + +One or two faint shots still popped, along the cliff, with little +pin-pricks of fire in the dark. Then all sounds of opposition +vanished. The _Nissr_, upborne at her wonderful climbing-angle toward +the clouds painted by her searchlight--clouds like a rippled, moonlit +veil through which peeped faint stars--spiraled above the Hudson and +in a vast arc turned her beak into the south. + +Disorder died. Silence fell, save for the whistling of the sudden wind +of the airship's own motion, and for the steadily mounting drone of +the huge propellers. + +"Made it all right, by God!" exclaimed Bohannan, excitedly. "No +damage, either. If the floats had smashed when they hit the gate, +there'd have been a devil of an explosion--vacuum collapsing, you +know. Close call, but we made it! Now, if--" + +"That will do!" the Master curtly interrupted, with steadfast eyes +peering out through the conning windows. Now that the first _elan_ of +excitement had spent itself, this strange man had once more resumed +his mantle of calm. Upborne on the wings of wondrous power, wings +all aquiver with their first stupendous leap into the night-sky, +the Master--impassive, watchful, cool--seemed as if seated in his +easy-chair at _Niss'rosh_. + +"That will do, Major!" he repeated. "None of your extravagance, sir! +No time now for rodomontade!" He glanced swiftly round, saw Captain +Alden by the dim aura of light reflected from the instrument-board. +Blood reddened the captain's left sleeve. + +"Wounded, Captain?" + +"Only a scratch!" + +"Report to Dr. Lombardo. And have Simonds, in charge of the stores, +replace this broken pane." + +"Yes, sir!" + +Alden saluted with a blood-stained hand, slipped his gun back into its +holster and got up. He swayed a little, with the swinging slide of the +air-liner and with the weakness that nerve-shock of a wound brings. +But coolly enough he slid open the door leading into the main +corridor, and passed through, closing the door after him. Where his +hand touched the metal, red stains showed. Neither man of the pair now +left in the pilot-house made any comments. This was all in the day's +work--this and whatever else might befall. + +Spiraling vastly, up, up climbed the giant plane. A colder air nipped +through the broken window. Cloud-wisps began to blur the glass; the +stars began to burn more whitely in a blacker sky. + +The Master touched a button at the left side of the steering-post. +Below his feet, as they rested in their metal stirrups, an aluminum +plate silently slid back. An oblong of dim light blurred up through +the heavy plate-glass sheet it had masked. + +Glancing down, the Master saw far, far below him a slowly rotating +vagueness of waters black and burnished, of faintly twinkling lights. +Lights and water drew backward, as the rotary motion gave way to a +southern course. The Master slowed the helicopters. A glance at the +altimeter showed him 1,965 feet. The compass in its binnacle gave him +direction. + +"Pit number one!" he sharply exclaimed into the phone connecting +therewith. + +"Yes, sir!" came back the observer's voice. + +"Keep a sharp eye out for _Niss'rosh_! Remember, two red lights +showing there!" + +"Yes, sir. I'll report as soon as I pick them up." + +The Master, knowing his course thither should be S.E. by S., drew the +liner to that exact angle. Under his skilled touch at the wheel, the +compass needle steadied to the dot. The searchlight lanced its way +ahead, into the vague drift of the smoke arising from New York. + +"Sight it, yet?" demanded the Master, presently. + +"Yes, sir. Just picked it up. Hold hard, sir!" + +Almost at once, the Master also got a glimpse of two tiny pin-pricks +of crimson, high in air above the city-mass. Swiftly _Nissr_ drew +over the building. Far, very far down in the chasm of emptiness, +tiny strings of light--infinitesimal luminous beads on invisible +threads--marked Broadway, Fifth Avenue, countless other streets. The +two red winks drew almost underneath. + +Down plunged the searchlight, picking _Niss'rosh_ out of the gloom. +Through the floor-glass, the Master could descry it clearly. He +slowed, circled, playing with vacuum-lift, helicopters, engines, as +if they had been keys of a familiar instrument. Presently the liner +hovered, poised, sank, remained a little over 750 feet above the +observatory on the roof-top. + +"Cracowicz!" ejaculated the Master, into the phone again, as his deft +fingers made another connection. A foreign voice answered: "Yes, sir!" +alertly. + +"Ready in the lower gallery now, with the winch and tackles!" bade the +Master. + +Again came: "Yes, sir!" from the man in charge of the three who +already knew perfectly well what was expected of them. As _Nissr_ +slowly turned, a trap opened in the bottom of her lower gallery, +almost directly between the two forward vacuum-floats, and down sped a +little landing nacelle or basket at the end of a fine steel cable. + +Swiftly the electric winch dropped the nacelle, containing three men. +It slowed, at their command, through the phone that led up the wire. +With hardly a jar, the basket landed on the roof. + +The men jumped out, made fast their tackles to Captain Alden's plane +there, leaped in again and signaled: "Hoist away!" + +With noiseless speed the winch gathered in the cable. Up swooped the +nacelle. As it cleared the roof, _Nissr_ purred forward, slid away, +gathered speed over the city where already the alarm had been given. + +In four minutes the men had safely landed in the lower gallery once +more, and the plane was being hoisted by davits and made fast on the +upper platform, known as the take-off, which served as a runway for +planes leaving the ship or alighting thereon. + +Over the light-spangled city the giant air-liner gathered way. +Three or four searchlights had already begun trying to pick her +up. Quiverings of radiance reached out for her, felt into the void, +whirled like cosmic spokes. The Brooklyn Navy Yard whipped the +upper air for her. Down on Sandy Hook, a slim spear of light stabbed +questingly through the night. Then all at once the monster light on +Governor's Island caught her, dazzling into the Master's eyes. + +He only smiled, as he sheered eastward, dropped East River behind and +unloosed the Sky-eagle's course above Brooklyn. + +"Just a little fireworks, as a send-off, Major," said he, notching the +speed ahead, ever ahead, till a whipping gale began to beat in at the +broken pane. "They got word of it pretty quick, eh? I suppose they'll +send up a few planes after us." + +"_After_ us, yes!" exulted the major. "Faith, they'll be after us, all +right--a devil of a long way after!" + +To this the Master gave no answer, but signaled Auchincloss in the +engine-room for full speed. Now a subtle tremor possessed the +vast fabric, mistress of the upper spaces and the night. The +close-compacted lights beneath commenced to sprinkle out into tenuous +dots. The tiny blazing fringe of Coney burned a moment very far +below, then slid away, under the glass flooring. Still heading +sharply upward, with altimeter needle steadily mounting, with the cold +becoming ever greater, the liner flung herself out boldly over the jet +plain of ocean. + +Right into the eye of heaven she seemed to point, into a vast and +profound blackness, that, as the Master snicked off the no-longer +needed searchlight, unleashed myriad stars--stars which leaped out of +the velvet night. Already man and the works of man lay far behind. If +there had been any tentative pursuit, the Legionaries knew nothing of +it. Outdistancing pursuit as an eagle distances sparrows, the liner +gloried in her swift trajectory. + +The Master nodded, well pleased. Bohannan laughed like a boy, and +holstered his gun. He moved over to the starboard window, out of the +gale. With mocking eyes he watched the futile searchlight at the Hook. + +"They've got as much chance of overhauling us as the proverbial +celluloid cat has of catching the asbestos rat," said he. "A clean +getaway, barring the little damage we've taken--this window, and +Alden, and--" + +"Better unpack your kit, and settle down," the Master dryly +interrupted him. "Take a look around and see that everything's +shipshape. Be sure the port and starboard watches are chosen. +Everything's been arranged, already, but in dealing with human +beings there's bound to be a little confusion. They aren't +automata--unfortunately. And, Major!" + +"Yes, sir?" answered Bohannan, who despite his familiarity with the +Master was now constrained to formality. Resentment sounded in his +voice. + +"Send Brodeur to relieve me, in about ten minutes." + +"Yes, sir," repeated the Celt. For a moment, standing there in the +gloom of the pilot-house, he eyed the dim, watchful figure at the +wheel. Then he turned, slid the door, and disappeared. + +As he walked aft, past the aluminum ladder that led to the upper +galleries, he muttered with dudgeon: + +"He rates us two for a nickel, that's plain enough--plain as paint! +Well, all right. I'll stand for it; but there may be others that--" + +He left the words unfinished, and went to do the Master's bidding. + +Alone, the Master smiled. Wine of victory pulsed in his blood and +brain. Power lay under his hand, that closed with joy upon it. Power +not only over this hardy Legion, but power in perspective over-- + +"God, if I can do it!" he whispered, and fell silent. His eyes rested +on the instruments before him, their white dials glowing under the +little penthouses of their metal shields. Altitude now showed 2,437 +feet, and still rising. Tachometers gave from 2,750 to 2,875 r.p.m. +for the various propellers. Speed had gone above 190 miles per hour. +No sign of man remained, save, very far below through a rift in the +pale, moonlit waft of cloud, a tiny light against a coal-black plain +of sea--the light of a slow, crawling steamer--a light which almost at +once dropped far behind. + +Vast empty spaces on all hands, above, below, engulfed _Nissr_. The +Master felt himself alone with air and sky, with power, with throbbing +dreams and visions. + +"If it can be done!" he repeated. "But--there's no 'if' to it, at +all. It _can_ be! It _shall_! The biggest thing ever attempted in this +world! A dream that's never been dreamed, before! And if it can't, +well, a dream like that is far more than worth dying for. A dream that +can come true--by God, that shall come true!" + +His hands tightened on the wheel. You would have said he was trying to +infuse some of his own overflowing strength into the mechanism that, +whirling, zooning with power, needed no more. The gleam in his eyes, +there in the dark pilot-house, seemed almost that of a fanatic. His +jaw hardened, his nostrils expanded. + +This strange man's face was now wholly other than it had been only a +week before, drawn and lined by ennui. Now vast ambitions dominated +and infused it with virile force. + +As he held the speeding air-liner to her predetermined course through +voids of night and mystery, he peered with burning eagerness at the +beckoning stars along the world's far, eastern rim. + +"Behold now, Allah!" he cried suddenly. "_Labbayk_![1] I come!" + +[Footnote 1: _Labbayk_ (I am here) is the cry of all Mohammedan +pilgrims as they approach the holy city of Mecca.] + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +"I AM THE MASTER'S!" + +The arrival of Simonds, with the spare window-pane, and of +Brodeur--one of the boldest flyers out of Saloniki in the last months +of the war--broke in upon the Master's reveries. Only a few minutes +were required to mend the window. During this time, the Master +explained some unusual features of control to the Frenchman, then let +him take charge of _Nissr_. + +"She's wonderful," said he, as Brodeur settled himself at the wheel. +"With her almost unlimited power, her impeccable controls and her +automatic stabilizers, I hardly see what could happen to her." + +"Fire, of course, _m'sieur_," the ace replied, "always has to be +guarded against." + +"Hardly on an all-metal liner. Now, here you see--and here--" + +He finished his explanations, and, satisfied that all was safe, passed +into his own cabin. Rrisa, he found, had already unpacked his kit, and +had arranged it to perfection. Even a copper bowl of khat, the "flower +of paradise," was awaiting him. + +The Master sat down, chewed a few leaves and indulged in a little +time of what the Arabs call _kayf_, or complete relaxation and inner +contemplation--a restful trick he had learned many years ago on the +coast of Yemen. The ticking of the aluminum-cased chronometer, now +marking a little past 2 a.m., soothed him, as did the droning hum of +the propellers, the piping whistle of the ship-made hurricane round +the fuselage, the cradling swing and rock of the air-liner hurling +herself almost due east. + +After some quarter-hour of absolute rest, he rang for his Arab +orderly. Rrisa appeared at once. Already he had got himself into his +military uniform, the one he had worn at Gallipoli when the Master had +saved his life. As he stood there in the doorway, he swung his left +foot out and back, with clicking heels, and made a smart salute. + +"What does _M'alme_ desire?" asked he, in Arabic. + +"I desire to know thy opinion of all this, Rrisa. Tell me, did thy +great prophet, M'hamed, ever ride in such state through the air? Was +Al Burak, his magic horse, on which he traveled to the paradise of the +houris, more swift or mighty than this steed of mine?" + +The Master speaking Arabic, weighted every word with its full meaning. + +"Tell me, Rrisa, what of all this?" + +"Your steed is very swift and very mighty. Your flying ship is very +great," the Arab admitted. "But Allah and his Prophet are greater! +_Allahu akbar!_" (Allah is greatest!) + +"Of course. But tell thou me, Rrisa, if I were to appear at Mecca in +my _Nissr Arrib ela Sema_--my Eagle of the Sky--would not thy people +give me great honors?" + +"My head is at your feet, _M'alme_, and I am yours to do with as +you will, even to the death, but I implore you, by the beard of the +Prophet, do not do this thing!" + +"And why not, Rrisa?" + +"You and I, Master, are _akhawat_.[1] Therefore I can speak true +words. You must not go to Mecca. No man of the _Nasara_ may go +there--and live." + +[Footnote 1: _Akhawat_ signifies in Arabic the tie of sworn +brotherhood between an Arab and one of different blood.] + +"Thou meanest that if we go to Mecca and they capture us, they will +kill us all?" + +"Yea, Master. And I too shall die, for being with you, though I count +that as less than nothing." + +The Master kept a moment's silence, pondering; while, without, the +voices of empty heaven whistled by, from strut and wire, brace +and stay. The wild mystery of that outer night, excluded by the +close-drawn curtains, contrasted strongly with the light and the warm +comfort of the cabin with its snug berth, its aluminum furniture, its +shining walls where were affixed charts and maps, rules, photographs. + +Under the clear, white light, Rrisa anxiously studied his master's +face. Great anxiety had begun to make itself manifest in the Arab's +voice and in his eyes. Another troubled look came, too, as he glanced +at the chronometer. + +It struck, sharply. The Arab, contrary to all his habits and training, +spoke first, without being spoken to. + +"Master," said he, timorously, "excuse the speech I offer without +waiting. But I must ask. This is my hour of night prayer, and I must +bow to Mecca. Whither, from here, lieth The City?" + +The Master raised a hand, glanced at a compass set like a wrist-watch, +peered a moment at one of the charts, and then nodded toward the door +that led into the pilot-house. + +Without delay, Rrisa faced that door and prostrated himself. The +ancient cry: "_La Illaha illa Allah! M'hamed rasul Allah!_" was +raised there in the cabin of the rushing Eagle of the Sky--surely the +strangest place where Moslem prayer was ever offered since first the +Prophet's green banner unfurled itself upon the desert air of Araby. + +Devoutly Rrisa prayed, then with a "_Bismillah_!" (In the name of +Allah!) arose and faced his master. The latter, wise in Eastern ways, +remained gravely unsmiling. Never in all his dealings with the son +of the East had he by word or look offended against Islam. There was, +however, iron determination in his eyes as he demanded: + +"Is it indeed true that in Mecca stands a building called the Ka'aba, +also called _Bayt Ullah_, or Allah's House?" + +"Yea, Master, that is true," answered the Arab, with strange eyes. + +"And is it indeed covered with a wondrous silken and gold cloth, every +year renewed, known as the _kiswah_?" + +"Those words are true." + +"All Moslems greatly revere the Ka'aba?" + +"It is the center of our mighty faith, Master." + +"And thou hast seen it with thine own eyes?" + +"With my own eyes, Master, for I am a _Hadji_.[1]" Attentively the +Arab was now watching the Master. Slowly he continued: "Prayer, with +face to Mecca, alms-giving, the keeping of the fast of Ramadan, and +the pilgrimage to the Ka'aba, these are our law. Yea, Master, I have +myself seen the Ka'aba, and more than once!" + +[Footnote 1: Title among the Arabs and Moslems in general for one +who has performed the pilgrimage to Mecca, a journey which every good +Moslem considers necessary for salvation.] + +A certain trouble had now grown manifest in Rrisa's eyes. His lips +moved silently, as if still praying; but no words were audible. The +Master pondered a moment more, then demanded: + +"Is it true there is a sacred Black Stone in the walls of the Ka'aba, +precious to all followers of the Prophet, from Africa to China and to +the farthest isles? Revered by all the two hundred and thirty million +of your faith?" + +"That is true, _M'alme_. I myself have touched and kissed the Black +Stone." + +"Mecca, the Ka'aba, and the Black Stone are forbidden to all +heretics?" relentlessly pursued the Master. + +"_Wallah_! Yea, so they are to--all who are not of Islam," Rrisa tried +to soften the answer. + +"They tell me," persisted the Master, "the Black Stone is in the +western wall of the Ka'aba, about seven feet from the pavement." + +"That is a lie!" flared Rrisa, with indignation. "It is in the +northeast corner, at the very corner, Master. It is between four +feet and five from the ground. That, and no other, is the true place, +Master, the place of _Hajar el Aswad!_" (Black Stone.) + +"Ah, yes, yes, the books lie," agreed the Master. "And they say, too, +that certain of the Feringi have indeed touched and even kissed the +Black Stone, and still lived." + +Rrisa's face clouded. It burned coppery, with a flush of hot blood +under that dark skin. By the clear white light in the cabin, the +Master closely observed him. Idly he broke off a leaf of the khat, and +nibbled at it. + +"Is that the truth?" he inquired, pitilessly. + +"I must speak truth to you, Master," confessed the Arab, with bitter +shame. "Two of the Feringi--_Nasara_ men like yourself--have indeed +touched and kissed it. Two that we know of. _Shaytan el Kabir_ (the +Great Satan) may have permitted others to do that, but we know of only +two who have done it--and lived." + +"Thou meanest one named Burckhardt, and Sir Richard Burton?" + +The Arab shuddered at sound of those names, and silently nodded. Then +he burst out: + +"Those were their names, _M'alme!_ Those two, disguised as _Hujjaj_, +defiled the Black Stone, which was given by Allah to the first Arabs; +and they both escaped. But many others who have tried--" + +"Have died at the hands of thy people?" + +"_Bismillah_! Yea!" A flash of pride irradiated the dark face +of Rrisa. His figure drew itself erect. Beneath the veneer of +civilization with which life among the Feringi had overlaid him, the +Master sensed the wild, fierce, free soul of the desert man, to whom +the death of the unbelieving dog is sweet. + +"It is well," nodded the Master. Then, suddenly he stood up, faced the +Arab, and bent on him a sternly penetrant look. + +"Rrisa," said he, impressively, his voice slow, grave, sonorous, "only +for me thy bones would today be moldering in the trenches at Gallipoli +or maybe rotting in a Turkish grave. The life that is in thee belongs +to me! That is thy ancient law. Is it not true?" + +"It is true, Master. _Nahnu malihin._" (We have eaten salt together.) + +"And the salt is still in thy stomach?[1]" + +[Footnote 1: Some Arab tribes hold that the salt binds protection for +only twenty-four hours and at the end of that time must be renewed, +otherwise it is "not in their stomachs."] + +"Aye, Master. You are still _dakhil_ (protected) to me." + +"Thou art mine to do with as I will?" + +"I am the Master's!" + +"Treason to me, Rrisa, is treason to thy holy laws. Surely, such +treason would plunge thy soul far into the depths of Eblis. When thy +time cometh to walk across the burning pit, on the bridge as fine and +sharp as the edge of a simitar, if it be laden with treachery to one +who hath saved thy life and whose salt thou hast eaten, surely it +shall not pass over, but shall fall. Far into the deeps of Jehannum it +shall fall, where the Prophet says: 'Stones and men shall be the fuel +of the everlasting flame!'" + +"I am the Master's," repeated Rrisa, with trembling mouth. He raised +his hand to forehead, lips, and heart. "My head is at the Master's +feet!" + +"Forget that not, thou!" cried the Master, dominantly. "_Ru'c'h +halla!_" (Go!) + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +CAPTAIN ALDEN STANDS REVEALED + +Hardly had the trembling Arab salaamed and departed in terror of soul, +knowing not what fearful events might be impending, when Bohannan +appeared. The smile on the Master's lips, the sternly calculating +expression in his eyes, faded into something as near astonishment as +this strange man ever felt, when the major exclaimed: + +"Well, faith now, what d'you think? The most improbable thing you can +imagine!" + +"What may that be, Major?" + +"It's not what it may be, it's what it _is_ that's astonishing me. +We've got a stowaway aboard us!" + +"Stowaway? Impossible!" + +"True, nevertheless. Manderson has just now routed him out of the +starboard storage-room, near the reserve petrol-tank." + +"Hm! Who is he?" + +Bohannan shrugged stout shoulders. + +"Don't know yet. He's still dopy. Just coming out of the effects of +the lethalizing gas." + +"Ah, yes, yes, I see. One of the former crew, I suppose. This is +quite inexcusable. That a man should have been overlooked and left +aboard--it won't do, Major. Kloof was responsible for that room. Kloof +will have to suffer. Any other news?" + +"Travers, the New Zealander, is wounded." + +"Badly?" + +"I'm afraid he's hard hit, sir." + +"Well, I'll have a look at him and at this stowaway. Where are they, +now?" + +"In the lazaret, I suppose you call it. Though what a hospital is, +aboard an air-liner, blest if I know!" + +"Sick-bay, we'll call it. Problems rising already. A stowaway--rather +odd, I must say. Still, as a problem, it's not hard to solve. Nothing +simpler than dropping a man overboard." + +"You--surely, you wouldn't do that!" ejaculated the major, startled. +His rubicund face grew round with amazement. + +"That remains to be seen. Come, let's have a look at him!" + +Together they went out into the brightly lighted main corridor, near +the ladder to the upper gallery, turned to the right and walked aft. +A door, just a little abaft the chartroom and, opposite the Master's +cabin, gave a glimpse of the as yet unoccupied smoke-room. Astern +of this, they passed the dining-saloon with its long table and +its swivel-chairs. Beyond several stateroom doors they came to the +transverse corridor at the other side of which, directly facing the +main corridor, the engine-room door opened. + +Entering the engine-room, they found themselves in a brightly lighted +compartment fifteen feet wide by twenty-six feet, seven inches long. +This compartment contained six Norcross-Brail engines, each capable +of developing 1,150 H.P. The engines were in charge of Auchincloss and +two assistant engineers, who had all six engines filling the room with +a drowsy drone, like ten billion bees humming themselves to sleep in +some mysterious hive. + +So nicely adjusted was every part, so accurately true was every shaft, +bearing, gear, that practically no vibration could be noted. The +voice, in ordinary tones, carried perfectly; and yet in that small +space nearly 7,000 H.P. were being produced and transmitted to the +propellers and to the storage batteries that operated helicopters and +compressed-air system, as well as the lighting-plant of the air-liner. + +As the two men entered the engine-room, the Master nodded to +Auchincloss. He stood a moment gazing at the brightly flecked metal of +the engines, the gleaming walls--hollow and filled with noninflammable +helium gas of great lifting power--the men on watch over all this +splendid mechanism. Then he passed between engines No. 4 and No. 5, +toward the aft wall of the compartment. + +Four doors opened in the bulkhead, there. Two communicated with +storerooms, one opened into the passage that led to the aft +observation pit, the fourth gave access to the sick-bay. This door the +Master slid back. Followed by the major he passed through. + +A small but fully equipped hospital met their eyes. Cots, +operating-table, instrument-cases, sterilizers, everything was +complete. Immaculate cleanliness reigned. On two of the cots, men were +lying. + +Beyond, Captain Alden--still fully dressed--was sitting on a white +metal chair. The captain's face was still concealed by the celluloid +mask, but a profound pallor was visible on the lower portion of his +right cheek and along his left jaw. The set of that jaw showed an +invincible obstinacy that bespoke rebellion. + +Dr. Lombardo, a dark-skinned Florentine, who had been talking with +Captain Alden, turned at the Master's entrance into the sick-bay. +Already Lombardo had put on a white linen jacket. Though he had not +yet had time to change his trousers, he nevertheless presented a +semi-professional air as he advanced to meet the newcomers. + +"I'm glad you're here, sir," said he to the Master. "There's trouble +enough, already." + +"Stowaway?" The Master advanced to the nearer cot. + +"Yes, sir. Perhaps not voluntarily so. You know how he was found." + +"Such oversight is inexcusable!" The Master leaned down and shook the +man by the shoulder. "Come, now!" he demanded. "What's your name?" +Curiously he looked at the stranger, a man of great strength, with +long arms and powerful, prehensile hands that reminded one of an +ape's. + +"It's no use questioning him, sir," put in Lombardo, while the major +peered curiously at Alden and at the other cot where a man was lying +with a froth of bright, arterial blood on his lips. Though this man +was suffering torment, no groan escaped him. A kind of gray shadow had +settled about eyes and mouth--the shadow of the death angel's wings. + +"It's no use, sir," repeated the doctor. "He hasn't recovered +consciousness enough, yet, to be questioned. When he does, I'll +report." + +"Do so!" returned the Master, curtly. "I hardly think we need use much +ceremony in disposing of him." He turned to the other cot. "Well, sir, +how about this man?" + +"I'm--all right, sir," weakly coughed the wounded New Zealander. He +tried to bring a hand to his forehead, but could hardly lift it +from the sheet. The doctor, with compressed lips, slightly shook a +negativing head, as the Master raised interrogative brows. + +"Serious," Lombardo whispered. "Shot through the right lung. Bullet +still there. Severe internal hemorrhage. I may be able to operate, +with Daimamoto assisting, but only in case the patient rallies. We +really need a nurse, on this expedition. Medically speaking, we're +short-handed. However, I'll do my best, sir." + +"I know you will," answered the Master. He stood a moment gazing down +at the New Zealander, with stern face and tight mouth. This man on the +cot had already given much for the expedition, and might give all. Not +without blood and suffering--death, perhaps--was the Master's dream to +come to its fruition. After a moment, the Master turned away. He faced +Captain Alden. + +"Your wound not yet dressed?" demanded he. + +"No, sir, not yet." + +"And why not, pray?" + +"He's simply refused all attention, whatever!" put in the doctor. + +"I have a reason, sir," Alden proffered. + +"No reason can overrule my orders!" the Master exclaimed. "I commanded +you to report to Dr. Lombardo for treatment." + +"Nevertheless, sir, I refuse--" + +"Insubordination will not be condoned, sir!" + +"My reason is valid. When you have heard it, you will understand." + +"State your reason, sir!" + +"I decline--here." + +For a long moment the eyes of the Master met those of Captain Alden, +that strangely peered out at him through the eyeholes of the pink, +celluloid mask. Bohannan and the doctor stood by, curiously observing +this conflict of two wills. Silence came, save for the droning purr +of the engines, the buffeting gusts of wind along the fuselage, the +slight trembling of the gigantic fabric as it hurled itself eastward +through the high air of night. + +"This is inexcusable," said the Master, crisply. "I give you one last +chance. Either permit treatment, or consider yourself under arrest." + +"Before you proceed to such lengths," the captain replied, "I ask one +favor of you." + +"What favor?" + +"Two minutes alone with you, sir." + +"Come with me!" + +The Master turned and left the sick-bay. Alden rose, weakly enough, +and followed him. As the door opened and closed again, the engines +hummed louder, then sank again to their dull murmur. Bohannan remained +with the doctor. + +"Well, faith, can you beat that?" exclaimed the major. "There's an +Ethiopian in the woodpile, sure enough. Something strange, here, I'm +thinking! Something damned strange here!" + +"Is there anything here that _isn't_?" asked Lombardo, with an odd +laugh, as he turned back to the cot where lay the dying New Zealander. + +Alone in his cabin with Captain Alden, the Master faced the +insubordinate member of his crew with an expression of hard +implacability. The captain stood there determinedly confronting him. +His right hand held to the table for support. His left sleeve was +sodden with blood; the left arm, thrust into the breast of his coat, +was obviously numbed, paralyzed. + +"Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself?" coldly demanded the +Master. + +"I repeat that I cannot--and will not--submit myself to any medical +attention from any member of this expedition." + +"This is dangerous ground you're treading!" the Master exclaimed. His +voice had deepened, grown ominous. "You understood perfectly well the +conditions of the undertaking--unquestioning obedience to my orders, +with life-and-death powers in my hands, to punish insubordination." + +"I understand all that, sir," answered the captain. "I understand it +now. Nevertheless, I repeat my refusal to obey." + +"By Allah! There must be some deep cause here!" ejaculated the Master, +his eyes smoldering. "I intend to work my will, but I am a man of +reason. You are entitled to a hearing state your objection, sir. Speak +up!" + +The captain's answer was to raise his right hand and to loosen the +cords securing the celluloid mask. As the Master watched, steadying +his nerves against the shock of what he felt must be a nameless horror +underneath, Alden tore away the mask and threw it upon the table. + +"Here is my reason, sir," said he very quietly, "for not permitting +Lombardo, or any other man here, to dress my wound." + +"Good God!" exclaimed the Master, shaken clean out of his aplomb. The +shock he had expected had come to him, but in far other guise than +he had counted on. With clenched fists and widening eyes he peered at +Alden. + +The face he now suddenly beheld, under the clear white light of the +cabin, was not the hideous, mangled wreck of humanity--The Kaiser's +Masterpiece--he had expected to see. + +No--far, and very far from that! + +It was the face of a woman. One of the most beautiful women his eyes +ever had rested on. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +THE WOMAN OF ADVENTURE + +A moment's utter silence followed. The woman, with another gesture, +drew off the aviator's cap she had worn; she pulled away the +tight-fitting toupee that had been drawn over her head and that had +masked her hair under its masculine disguise. With deft fingers she +shook out the masses of that hair--fine, dark masses that flowed down +over her shoulders in streams of silken glory. + +"Now you see me as I am!" said she, her voice low and just a little +trembling, but wholly brave. "Now, perhaps, you understand!" + +"I--but you--" stammered the Master, for the first time in all his +life completely at a loss, dazed, staggered. + +"Now you understand why I couldn't--wouldn't--let Dr. Lombardo dress +my wound." + +"By the power of Allah! What does all this mean?" The Master's voice +had grown hoarse, unsteady. "A woman--_here_--!" + +"Yes, a woman! The woman your expedition needs and must have, if death +and sickness happen, as happen they will The woman you would never +have allowed to come--the woman who determined to come at all hazards, +even death itself. The woman who--" + +"But, Lord Almighty! Your papers! Your decorations!" + +"Quite genuine," she answered, smiling at him with dark eyes, +unafraid. Through all his dazed astonishment he saw the wonder of +those eyes, the perfect oval of that face, the warm, rich tints of her +skin even though overspread with the pallor of suffering. + +"Madam," said he, trying to rally, "this is past all words No +explanation can make amends for such deception. Still, the secret is +yet yours--and mine. Until I decide what to do, it must be respected." + +Past her he walked, to the door, and snapped the catch. She, turning, +leaned against the table and smiled. He saw the gleam of perfect +teeth. A strange figure she made, with loose hair cascading over her +coat, with knickers and puttees, with wounded arm slung in the breast +of her jacket. + +"Thank you for your consideration," she smiled. "It is on a par with +my conception of your character." + +"Pray spare me your comments," he replied, coldly. He returned to his +desk, but did not sit down there. Against it he leaned, crossed his +arms, and with somewhat lowered head studied her. "Your explanation, +madam?" + +"My papers are _en regle_," said she. "My decorations are genuine. +Numbers of women went through the great war as men. I am one of them, +that is all. Many were never discovered. Those who were, owed it to +wounds that brought them under observation. Had I not been wounded, +you would never have known. I could have exercised my skill as a +nurse, without the fact of my sex becoming apparent. + +"That was what I was hoping for and counting on. I wanted to serve +this expedition both as a flyer and as a nurse. Fate willed otherwise. +A chance bullet intervened. You know the truth. But I feel confident, +already, that my secret is safe with you." + +The light on her forehead, still a little ridged and reddened by the +pressure of the edge of the mask, showed it broad, high, intelligent. +Her eyes were deep and eager with a kind of burning determination. The +hand she had rested on the table clenched with the intensity of her +appeal: + +"Let me stay! Let me serve you all! I ask no more of life than that!" + +The Master, knotting together the loose threads of his emotion, came a +step nearer. + +"Your name, madam!" he demanded. + +"I cannot tell you. I am Captain Alfred Alden to you, still. Just +that. Nothing more." + +"You continue insubordinate? Do you know, madam, that for this I could +order you bound hand and foot, have you laid on the trap in the lower +gallery, and command the trap to be sprung?" + +His face grew hard, deep-lined, almost savage as he confronted +her--the only being who now dared stand against his will. She smiled +oddly, as she answered: + +"I know all that, perfectly well. And I know the open Atlantic lies a +mile or two below us, in the empty night. Nevertheless, you shall +not learn my name. All I shall tell you is this--that I am really an +aviator. 'Aviatrix' I despise. I served as 'Captain Alden' for eight +months on the Italian front and twenty-one months on the Western. I am +an ace. And--" + +"Never mind about all that!" the Master interrupted, raising his +hand. "You are a woman! You are here under false colors. You gained +admission to this Legion by means of false statements--" + +"Ah, no, pardon me! Did I ever claim to be a man?" + +"The impression you gave was false, and was calculated to be so. This +is mere quibbling. A lie can be acted more effectively than spoken. +All things considered, your life--" + +"Is forfeited, of course. I understand that perfectly well. And +that means two things, as direct corollaries. First, that you lose +a trained flyer and a woman with Red Cross training; a woman you may +sorely need before this expedition is done. Second, you deny a human +being who is just as eager as you are for life and the spice of +adventure, just as hungry for excitement as you or any man here--you +deny me all this, everything, just because a stupid accident of birth +made me a woman!" + +Her clenched right fist passionately struck the table at her side. + +"A man's world! That's what this world is called; that's what it is! +And you--of all men--are living down to that idea! You--_the Master!_" + +The man's face changed color. It grew a little pale, with deepening +lines. He passed a hand over his forehead, a hand that for the first +time trembled with indecision. His strong teeth gnawed at his lower +lip. Never before had he lacked words, but now he found none. + +The woman exclaimed, her voice incisive, eager, her eyes burning: + +"It is because you _are_ a master of men, and of yourself, that I have +taken this chance! It is because I have heard of your absolute sense +of justice and fair play, your appreciation of unswerving loyalty +and of the heart that dares! Now you understand. I have only one more +thing to say." + +"And what is that?" + +"If you respect my secret and let me go with you on this great +enterprise, no man aboard the Eagle of the Sky will serve you any more +loyally than I. No man will venture more, endure more, suffer more--if +suffering has to be. I give you my word of honor on that, as a fighter +and--a woman!" + +"Your word of honor as--" + +"A woman! Do you understand?" + +Silence again. Their eyes met. The Master's were first to lower. + +"Your life is spared," he answered. "That is a concession to your sex, +madam. Had you been a man, I would inevitably have put you to death. +As it is, you shall live. And you shall remain with us--" + +"Thank God for that!" + +"Till we reach land. There you must leave _Nissr_." + +"I shall not leave it alive," the woman declared, her eyes showing +dilated pupils of resentment, of anger. "I haven't come this far to be +thrown aside like a bit of worthless gear!" + +"You and your machine will be cast off, over the first land we touch," +the Master repeated doggedly. "Whatever information you may give, +cannot injure us, and--" + +"Stop! Not another word like that, to me!" + +Her eyes were blazing now; her right fist quivered in air. + +"You accuse me of treason," she cried. "Oh, what injustice, what--" + +"I accuse you of nothing, save of having deceived us all, and of being +very much _deplacee_ here. The deception shall continue, as far as the +others are concerned. You came to us, as a man. You shall go as +one. Your secret shall be absolutely respected, by me. But, madam, +understand one thing clearly." + +"What is that?" she demanded, still trembling with indignation. + +"The fact that you are a woman has no weight with me, so far as your +persuading me to let you remain of the party may be concerned. Women +have never counted in my life. Their wiles, arts, graces, tears, mean +nothing to me. Their entreaties seem futile. Their arguments appear +like trivial puerilities. + +"Other men are sometimes influenced by such. I tell you now, madam, I +shall not be. Your entreaties will have no weight. When the time +comes for you to leave _Nissr_, I trust you will go quietly, with no +distressing scene." + +A certain grimness showed in the woman's face, making it sternly +heroic as the face of Medea or Zenobia. She answered: + +"Do you think me the type that entreats, that sheds tears, that +exercises wiles?" + +"We won't discuss your personality, madam! This interview is drawing +to an end. Until we reach land, nothing can be done. Nothing, but to +look out for your injury. Common humanity demands that your wound be +dressed. Is it a serious hurt?" + +"Not compared with the hurt you are inflicting, in banishing me from +the Flying Legion!" + +"Come, madam, refrain from extravagant speeches! What is your wound?" + +"A clean shot through the left arm, I think, a little below the +shoulder." + +"I realize, of course, that to have Dr. Lombardo dress it would reveal +your sex. Could you in any way manage the dressing, yourself?" + +"If given antiseptics and bandages, yes." + +"They shall be furnished, also a stateroom." + +"That will excite comment." + +"It may," the Master answered, "but there is no other way. I will +manage everything privately, myself. Then I will let it transpire that +there was some injury to the face, as well, and that the mask had to +be removed. I can let the impression get about that you refused to +allow anyone but me see your mutilated face. + +"I can also hint that I have helped you with the dressing, and have +ordered you to keep your stateroom for a while. When it comes time to +leave _Nissr_, I will dispatch you as a messenger. Thus your secret +will remain intact. Besides, no one will dare inquire into anything. +No one ventures to discuss or question any decision of mine." + +Something of hard arrogance sounded in the Master's voice. The woman +thanked him, her eyes penetrant, keenly intelligent, even a trifle +mocking. One would have said she was weighing this strange man in +the balance of judgment, was finding him of sterling stuff, yet was +perhaps cherishing a hope, not untinged with malice, that some day a +turn of fate might humble him. The Master seemed to sense a little of +this, and took a milder tone. + +"I must compliment you on one thing, madam," said he, with just the +wraith of a smile. "Your acting has been perfection itself. And the +fortitude with which you have borne the discomfort of that mask for +more than a week, to achieve your ends, cannot be too highly praised." + +"Thank you," she replied. "I would have stood _that_ a year, to be one +of your Legion! But now--tell me! Isn't there any possibility of your +reversing your decision?" + +"None, madam." + +"Isn't there anything I can say or do to--" + +"Remember, you told me just a minute ago you were not the type of +woman who entreats!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +THE ENMESHING OF THE MASTER + +She fell silent, biting her full lip. Something in her eyes shamed the +man. Not for all his inflexible sternness could he feel that he had +come out a winner in this, their first encounter. A woman--one of the +despised, ignored creatures--had deceived him. She had disobeyed his +orders. She had flatly thrown down the gage of battle to him, that +she would never leave _Nissr_ alive. And last, she had forced him +into planning to disseminate falsehoods among his crew--falsehoods the +secret of which only she shared with him. + +Unwilling as this man was to have anything in common with her, he +had been obliged to have something in common--to have much. Something +existed; a bond, even if an unpleasant one, had already stretched +itself between these two--the first secret this man ever had shared +with any woman. + +"Captain Alden" smiled a little. The honors of war, so far, lay all in +her camp. + +The Master, feeling this to the inner marrows, humiliated, shaken, +yet through it all not quite able to suppress a kind of grudging and +unwilling tribute of admiration, sought to conceal his perturbation +with a stern command: + +"Now, madam, I will call my orderly and have you escorted to a +stateroom; have you provided with everything needful for your injury. +I trust it is not causing you any severe pain?" + +"Pray don't waste any time or thought on any injury of mine, sir!" the +woman returned. + +"Very well, madam! Resume your disguise!" + +She tried to sweep up her magnificent hair and secure it upon her +head. But with only one hand available this proved impossible. They +both saw there was no way for her to put on the toupee again. + +She smiled oddly, with a half-whimsical, wholly feminine bit of +malice. Her eyes seemed dancing. + +"I'm afraid I can't obey you, sir," she proffered. "You can see for +yourself, it can't be done." + +A dull, angry flush crept over the Master's rather pale face, and lost +itself in the roots of his thick, black hair. Perfectly well he saw +that he was being cornered in an untenable position of half-command, +half-intimacy. Without apparently exercising any wiles, this woman was +none the less involving him in bonds like those the Lilliputians threw +round sleeping Gulliver. + +Anger welled up in his proud heart that anyone--much less a +woman--should thus lower his dignity. But still his manhood dictated +courtesy. He came a few steps nearer, and said: + +"I must admit this seems rather an embarrassing situation. Frankly, it +does not tend to ameliorate the relation between us. You have placed +yourself--and me--in a peculiarly compromising position. I must try to +meet it. + +"Obviously you cannot expect one so unskilled as I, in things +feminine, to help you in the capacity of lady's maid Therefore only +one thing remains to do. Instead of calling my orderly, and having him +show you your stateroom, I must in some way arrange to get you there, +myself." + +"That's kind of you, I'm sure," she answered, half in mockery, half in +gratitude. + +"There I will supply you with medical supplies. In some manner or +other you can manage to do up your hair and resume your disguise. You +will remain in your stateroom--under arrest--until such time as you +are cast loose, tomorrow, in your plane." + +"Tomorrow?" + +"I should say, sometime before night of the day that has already +begun. Food and drink will be brought you, of course." + +"That's very good of you, sir." Her smile tantalized. The curt +laconicism of her manner, in the masculine role, had changed to the +softer ways of womankind. Despite himself, the Master was constrained +to admire her ability as an actress. + +"Of course you realize," she continued, "that to cast me loose in a +plane, with only one serviceable arm, will be equivalent to committing +cold-blooded murder." + +"A mere detail!" + +"A mere detail--to murder a woman?" + +"Pardon me, you misunderstand. I mean, the manner in which you are to +leave Nissr matters little, so long as you leave. I will see that you +are safely landed--that no harm arrives to you. + +"But you--shall not remain with us. Now, kindly stay here. Lock the +cabin door after I have gone, and admit no one until I return. I will +signal you with two triple knocks, thus." + +He illustrated the knocks, on the table, and, unlocking the door, left +the cabin in a black humor. The sound of the woman locking the door +after him, the knowledge that he had been obliged to make up a little +code for readmission, angered him as he rarely had been angered. + +Self-protection, however, demanded these subterfuges. To let the +secret escape, and to be obliged to admit having been deceived by +a woman, would fatally lower his prestige with the Legionaries. How +could he, if known to be the dupe of a woman, command those hard, bold +men? + +Humiliated, yet in his heart thankful that no one had yet penetrated +the secret--as Dr. Lombardo easily might have done, had he laid +forcible hands on "Captain Alden"--the Master set about the necessary +task of himself preparing a stateroom and providing the requisite +medical supplies. + +Lombardo asked no questions. His eyes, however, had grown quizzical. +No one else seemed to notice what the Master was about. Each was busy +in his own place, at his own task. + +Twenty minutes had passed before all was ready and the Master could +return to his cabin. He rapped as agreed, and was admitted, feeling +his cheeks burn at even the analogy between this clandestine entrance +and some vulgar liaison--a thing he scrupulously had avoided all his +life. + +"Come!" he directed. She followed him. Silently he ushered her into +her appointed place. No one had seen them. He followed her into the +little stateroom, closed the door, folded his arms and confronted her +with a grim face. + +"Before leaving you, madam," said he, "I wish to repeat that only +your sex has saved you from summary execution. You are guilty of high +crimes and misdemeanors, in the code of this expedition--guilty of +falsehood and deception that might have introduced fatal complications +into my most carefully evolved plan. + +"Nevertheless, my code as an officer prohibits any punishment +other than this merely nominal arrest. I must offer you temporary +hospitality. Moreover, if you need any assistance in dressing your +wound, I will give it. Common humanity demands that." + +"I don't need anything, thank you," she answered. "I don't ask for +anything, but to stay with the Legion." + +"That's a point I must positively decline to argue, madam," he +informed her, shaking his head. "And, since there is nothing more to +say, I wish you a very good night!" + +Bowing, he left the stateroom. He heard the door-catch snap. Somehow, +in some way as yet inexplicable to him, that sound caused him another +discomfort. For the first time in his life he had been having private +conversation with a woman--conversation that might almost have been +construed as intimate, since it had held secrets. For the first time +he had felt himself outwitted by a woman, beaten, made mock of. Now he +was being shut away from her. + +Inwardly raging as he was, hot, confused, unhorsed, still a strange, +fingering insinuation of something agreeable had begun to waken in +him. The Master, not understanding it at all, or being able to analyze +sensations so foreign to all his previous thought and experience, cut +the Gordian knot of puzzlement by roundly cursing himself, by Allah +and the Prophet's beard, as a fool. And with a vastly disturbed mind +he returned along the white, gleaming corridor--that dipped and swayed +with the swift rush of _Nissr_--back to his own cabin. + +There he found the buzzer of his little desk-telephone intermittently +calling him. + +"Yes, hello?" he answered, receiver at ear, as he sat down in the +swivel-chair of aluminum with its hydrogen cushion. + +The voice of the wireless man, Menendez, reached him. In a soft, +Spanish-accented kind of drawl, Menendez said: + +"Just picked up two important radios, sir." + +"Well? What are they?" + +"International Air Board headquarters, in Washington, has been +notified of our getaway. They have sent out calls for all air-stations +in both America and Europe to put up scout-squadrons to watch for us." + +"What else?" + +"Two squadrons have been started westward across the Atlantic, +already, to capture or destroy us." + +"Indeed? Where from?" The Master spoke coldly. This information, far +from seeming important to him as it had to Menendez, appeared the +veriest commonplace. It was nothing but what he had expected and +foreseen. He smiled grimly as he listened to the radio man's answer: + +"One squadron has started from Queenstown. The other from the +Azores--from St. Michaels." + +"Anything else?" + +"Well, sir, now and then I can get a few words they're sending from +plane to plane--or from plane to headquarters. They mean business. +It's capture or kill. They're rating us as pirates." + +"Very well. Anything really important?" + +"Nothing else, sir." + +"Keep me informed, if any real news comes in. But don't disturb me +with trifles!" + +The Master hung up the receiver, sat back in his chair and stretched +his long, powerful legs under the desk. He set both elbows on the arms +of the chair, joined his finger-tips and sank his lips upon them. + +"I'd better be rigging that vibratory apparatus before long," he +reflected. "But still, there's no immediate hurry. Time enough for all +that. Lots of time." + +His thoughts wandered from _Nissr_ and the great adventure, from the +coming attackers, from the vibratory apparatus, yes from the goal of +all this undertaking itself, back to "Captain Alden." The _who_ and +_why_, the _whence_ and _whither_ of this strange woman urgently +intruded on his mind; nor by any effort of the will could he exclude +these thoughts. + +For a long time, while _Nissr_ roared away eastward, ever eastward +into the night, he sat there, sunk in a profound revery. + +"A woman," he whispered, finally, the words lingering on his lips. "A +woman, eh? Strange--very strange!" + +Resolutely he forced himself to consider the plans he had laid out; +his success thus far; the means he meant to take with the attacking +squadrons; the consummation of his whole campaign so vast, so +overpowering in its scope. + +But through it all, persisted other thoughts. And these, he found, he +could not put away. + +The buzzer of the desk-telephone again recalled him to himself. +"Hello, hello?" + +"I have to report that a third squadron has been ordered into the air, +from Monrovia," announced Menendez. + +"Very well! Anything else?" + +"No, sir." + +The Master hung up the receiver, arose, and seemed to shake himself +from the kind of torpor into which his thoughts of the woman had +plunged him. + +"Enough of this nonsense!" growled he. "There's work to be +done--_work_!" + +With fresh energy he flung himself into the task of planning how to +meet and to repel the three air-fleets now already on the westward +wing to capture or annihilate the Flying Legion. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +STORM BIRDS + +The first slow light of day, "under the opening eyelids of the morn," +found the Master up in the screened observation gallery at the tip of +the port aileron. Here were mounted two of the six machine-guns that +comprised _Nissr's_ heavier armament; and here, too, were hung a dozen +of the wonderful life-preservers--combination anti-gravity turbines +and vacuum-belt, each containing a signal-light, a water-distiller and +condensed foods--that, invented by Brixton Hewes, soon after the close +of the war, had done so much to make air-travel safe. + +Major Bohannan was with the Master. Both men, now in uniform, +showed little effect of the sleepless night they had passed. Wine of +excitement and stern duties to perform, joined with powerful bodies, +made sleeplessness and labor trivialities. + +For an hour the two had been standing there, wrapped in their long +military overcoats, while _Nissr_ had swooped on her appointed ways, +with hurtling trajectory that had cleft the dark. Somewhat warmed by +piped exhaust-gases though the glass-enclosed gallery had been, still +the cold had been marked; for without, in the stupendous gulf of +emptiness that had been rushing away beneath and all about them, no +doubt the thermometer would have sunk below zero. + +_Nissr's_ altitude was now very great, ranging between 17,500 and +21,000 feet, so as to take advantage of the steady eastward setting +wind in the higher air-lanes. A hard, frozen moonlight, from the +steely disk sinking down the western sky, had slashed ink-black +shadows of struts and stanchions across the gallery, and had flung +_Nissr's_ larger shadow down the hungering abysses of the sky that +yawned beneath. + +That shadow had danced and quivered at fantastic speed across dazzling +moonlit fields of cloud, ever keeping pace with the Sky Eagle, now +leaping across immense and silent drifts of white, now plunging, +vanishing into black abysses that showed the ocean spinning backward, +ever backward toward the west. + +With the coming of dawn, the shadow had faded, and the watchers' eyes +had been turned ahead for some first sight of the out-riders of +the attacking fleets. Bohannan, a little nervous in spite of his +well-seasoned fighting-blood, had smoked a couple of cigars in the +sheltered gallery, pacing up and down with coat-collar about his ears +and with hands thrust deep in pockets. The Master, likewise muffled, +had refused all proffers of tobacco and had contented himself with a +few khat leaves. + +Silence had, for the most part, reigned between them. Up here in the +gallery, conversation was not easy. The hurricane of _Nissr's_ flight +shrieked at times with shrill stridor and with whistlings as of a +million witches bound for some infernal Sabbath on the Matterhorn. A +good deal of vibration and of shuddering whipped the wing-tip, too; +all was different, here, from the calm warmth, comfort, and security +of the fuselage. + +The men seemed standing on the very pinion-feathers of some fabled +roc, sweeping through space. Above, below, complete and overwhelming +vacancy clutched for them. The human is not yet born who can stand +thus upon the tip of such a plane, and feel himself wholly at ease. + +As darkness faded, however, and as approaching dawn began to burn +its slow way up the stupendous vaults of space above the eastern +cloud-battlements--battlements flicked with dull crimson, blood-tinged +blotches, golden streaks and a whole phantasmagoria of shifting +hues--something of the oppression of night fell from the two men. + +"Well, we're still carrying on. Things are still going pretty much +O.K., sir," proffered the major, squinting into the East--the cold, +red East, infinitely vast, empty, ripe with possibilities. "A good +start! Close to a thousand miles we've made; engines running to a +hair; men all fitting into the jobs like clockwork. Everything all +right to a dot, eh?" + +The Master nodded silently, keeping dark eyes fixed on the horizon of +cloud-rack. Above, the last faint prickings of stars were fading. The +moon had paled to a ghostly circle. Shuddering, _Nissr_ fled, with +vapory horizons seemingly on her own level so that she appeared at the +bottom of an infinite bowl. Bohannan, feeling need of speech, tried to +be casual as he added: + +"I don't feel sleepy. Do you? Seems like I'd never want to sleep +again. Faith, this _is_ living! You've got us all enthused. And your +idea of putting every man-jack in uniform was bully! Nothing like +uniforms--even a jumble of different kinds, like ours--to cement men +together and give them the _esprit de corps._ If we go through as +we've begun--" + +The Master interrupted him with a cold glance of annoyance. The Celt's +exuberance jarred on his soul. Since the affair with "Captain Alden," +the Master's nerves had gone a little raw. + +Bohannan rallied bravely. + +"Of course," he went on, "it was unfortunate about that New Zealand +chap going West. He looked like a right good fellow. But, well--_c'est +la guerre!_ And I know he wouldn't have chosen a finer grave than the +bottom of the Atlantic, where he's sleeping now. + +"By the way, how did Alden come out? Much hurt, was he? I know, of +course, he didn't go back to the sick-bay. So he couldn't have been +badly wounded, or he would be--" + +"The Arabs have a saying, my dear fellow," dryly answered the Master, +"that one ear is worth ten thousand tongues. Ponder it well!" + +The major's look of astonishment annoyed the Master, even while it +hurt him. He took scant pleasure in rebuffing this old friend; but +certainly "Captain Alden" would not bear discussing. Feeling himself +in a kind of _impasse_ regarding Alden, and fearing some telltale +expression in his eyes, the Master swung up his binoculars and once +more swept the cloud-horizons from northeast to southeast. + +"We ought to be sighting some of the attackers, before long," judged +he. "I'm rather curious to see them--to see flies attacking an eagle. +I haven't had a real chance of testing out the neutralizers. Their +operation, in actual practice, ought to be interesting." + +He tried to speak coldly, impersonally; but he well realized a certain +strained quality in his voice. Even now, in the hour of impending +attack, his thoughts could not remain wholly fixed on the enemy +which--so the wireless informed him--lay only a little beyond the +haze-enshrouded, burning rim of cloudland. + +Despite every effort of the will, he kept mentally reverting to +the midships port stateroom containing the woman. He could not keep +himself from wondering how she was getting on. Her wound, he hoped--he +felt confident--could not be serious. + +Had it been, of course, the woman would have asked some further aid. +And since the moment when he had left her, no word had come to him. +More than once, temptation had whispered: "Go to her! She has deceived +you, and you are master here. But, above all, you are a man!" + +Twice he had all but yielded to this inner voice. But he had not +yielded. Another and a sterner voice had said: "She is an interloper. +She has no rights. Why give her another thought?" + +This voice had prevailed. The Master had told himself only a few hours +more remained, at all events, before the woman should be cast off and +abandoned in whatever strange land might befall--probably Morocco, or +it might be the Spanish colony of Rio de Oro on the western fringes +of the Sahara. After that, what responsibility for her safety or her +welfare would be his? Why, he had none, even now! + +"But, man," the small voice insinuated, "she came to you on an errand +of mercy, to nurse and care for such as might fall ill or be wounded. +It was not wholly the desire for adventure that led her to deceive +you. Her motive was high and fine!" + +"A curse on all women!" retorted the other voice. "Away with her!" And +this sterner voice again prevailed. Still, at thought that sometime +during the day now close at hand he was to see the last of this woman +who had stood there before him in his cabin, with dark eyes looking +into his, with eager, oval face upturned to his, with all that glory +of lustrous hair a flood about her shoulders, something unknown, +unwonted, fingered at the latchets of his heart. + +He realized that he felt strange, uneasy, uprooted from his sober +aplomb. Unknown irritations possessed him. Under his breath he +muttered an Arabic cynicism about woman, from the fourth chapter of +the Koran: "Men shall have the preeminence above women, because Allah +hath caused the one of them to excel the other!" + +Then came the philosophical reflection: + +"Man, you were seeking new sensations, new experiences, to stir your +pulses. This woman has given you many. She has served her purpose. Now +let her go!" + +Thus, seeming to have reached a certain finality of decision, he +dismissed her again from his mind--for perhaps the twentieth time--and +with new care once more began studying the gold-edged, shining clouds +where now a dull, broad arc of molten metal had burned its way out of +the mists. + +The Master slid colored ray-filters over his binoculars, to shield +his eyes from the direct dazzle of the rising sun, and swept that +incandescent arc. Suddenly he drew a sharp intake of breath. + +"Sighted something, eh?" demanded the major, already recovered from +the snub administered. + +"See for yourself, Major, what you make of it! Right in the sun's eye, +and off to southward--all along that fantastic, crimson cloud-castle." + +Bohannan's gaze narrowed through his own glasses. Bracing his powerful +legs against the quivering jar of the aileron, he brushed the horizon +into his eager vision. The glasses steadied. There, of a truth, black +midges had appeared, coming up over the world's rim like a startled +covey of quail. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +THE BATTLE OF VIBRATIONS + +Two, five, a dozen, now a score of tiny specks dotted the mist, +some moving right across the broadening face of the sun itself. As +_Nissr's_ flight stormed eastward, and these gnats drove to the west, +their total rate of approach must have been tremendous; for even as +the men watched, they seemed to find the attackers growing in bulk. +And now more and ever more appeared, transpiring from the bleeding +vapors of dawn. + +"Looks like business, sir!" exclaimed the Celt, his jaw hard. + +"Business, yes." + +"Bad business for us, eh?" + +"It might be, if we had only the usual means of defense. Under +ordinary circumstances, our only game would be to turn tail and run +for it, or cut away far to the south--or else break out a white flag +and surrender. But--" + +"That must be the Azores air-fleet," judged Bohannan. "The others +couldn't have made so much westing, in this time. Faith, what a +buzzing swarm of mosquitoes! I had no idea there were that many planes +on the Azores International Air Board station!" + +"There are many things you have no idea of, Major," replied the +Master, sharply. "That, however, is immaterial. Yes, here come the +fringes of attack, all right enough. I estimate forty or fifty in +sight, already; and there must be a few hundred back of those, between +here and land, north and south. Technically, we're pirates, you know." + +"Pirates?" demanded the major, lowering his glass. + +The Master nodded. + +"Yes," he answered. "That's what the wireless tells us. We'll get +short shrift if--my apparatus fails." + +"How do they make us out pirates?" Bohannan ejaculated. It was not +fear that looked from his blue eyes, but a vast astonishment. His +ruddy face, amazed under the now strengthening light of day, brought a +smile to the Master's lips. + +"What else are we, my dear fellow?" the Master queried. "To seize a +ship--a water-ship or one of the air matters nothing--and to overpower +the crew, kill or wound a few, throw them outboard and sail away, +comes pretty near constituting piracy. Of course the air-rules and +laws aren't wholly settled yet; but we're in a fair way of giving the +big-wigs a whacking precedent to govern the future. I fancy a good +many cases will be judged as _per_ the outcome of this expedition. + +"We're pirates all right--if they catch us. And they _will_ catch +us if they get within gunshot. The next few minutes will settle that +question of whether they're going to, or not!" + +"Nice, comforting prospect!" muttered the Celt. "What do they do +with pirates, anyhow, these days? They can't hang us at the yard-arm, +because airships don't have 'em. Of course they might stage a +hanging-bee with this Legion dangling from the wings, but that would +be pretty hard to manage. It'll be shooting, eh?" + +"Probably, if my neutralizer fails." + +"You're cheerful about it! The neutralizer may be all right, in its +way, but personally I'm rather strong for these!" He laid a hand on +the breech of the Lewis machine-gun mounted in the gallery, its grim +muzzle pointed out through a slit in the colloid screen. "The six guns +we've got aboard, in strategic positions, look like good medicine +to _me_! Wouldn't it be the correct thing to call the gun-crews and +limber up a little? These chaps aren't going to be all day in getting +here, and when they do--" + +"I admire your spirit, Major," interrupted the other, with undertones +of mockery, "but it's of the quality that, after all, can't accomplish +anything. It's the kind that goes against artillery with rifles. +Six guns against perhaps six hundred--and we're not built for rapid +maneuvering. That swarm could sting us a thousand times while we were +giving them the first round. No, no, there's nothing for it now, but +the neutralizer!" + +"My will is made, anyhow," growled Bohannan. "Faith, I'm glad it is!" + +The Master gave no reply, but took from the rail the little phone that +hung there, and pressed a button, four times. He cupped the receiver +at his ear. + +"You, Enemark?" asked he, of the man at the neutralizer far down in +the penetralia of the giant air-liner. "Throw in the first control. +Half-voltage, for three minutes. Then three-quarters, for two; and +then full, with all controls. Understand?" + +"Yes, sir!" came the crisp voice of Enemark. "Perfectly!" + +The Master hung up the receiver, and for a moment stood brooding. +An intruding thought had once more forced itself into his brain--a +thought of "Captain Alden." In case of capture or destruction, what +of the woman? Something very like a pang of human emotion pierced +his heart. Impatiently he thrust the thought aside, and turned with a +quiet smile to Bohannan. + +The major, red with excitement and impatience, still had a hand on the +machine-gun. He was patting it slightly, his face eloquent of longing +and regret. + +"Still pinning your faith to steel-jacketed streams of bullets, +are you, as against ion-jacketed streams of vibrations?" the Master +rallied him. "We shall see, immediately, whether you're right or _I_ +am! Bullets are all well enough in their place, Major, but electrons +are sometimes necessary. Vibrations, Major--I pin my faith to +vibrations." + +"Vibrate all you want to!" exclaimed the Celt, irefully, his eyes on +the thickening swarm of flyers, some of them now plainly visible in +detail against the aching smears of color flung across the eastern +reaches of cloudland. "Vibrate away; but give me _this_!" He fondled +the gleaming gun as if it had been a pet. "I tell you frankly, if +I were in charge here, I'd let the vibrations go to Hell and begin +pumping lead. I'd have all gun-crews at stations, and the second we +got in range I'd open with all six Lewises!" + +"Yes, and Nissr would go crumpling down, a minute later, a blazing +sieve fore-and-aft--wings, tanks, fuselage, everything riddled +with thousands of bullets. Vibration is the trick, I tell you. It's +everything. + +"All life is vibration. When it ceases, that is death--and even dead +matter vibrates. All our senses depend on vibration. Everything we +feel, see, hear, taste, comes to our knowledge through vibrations. +And the receptive force in us is vibration, too. The brain is just one +great, central ganglion for the taking in of vibrations. + +"The secret of life, of the universe itself, is vibration. If we +understood all about that, the cosmos would have no secrets from us. +So now--ah, see there, will you? See, Major, and be convinced!" + +He pointed eastward, into the blazing sunrise. The out-fling of his +arm betrayed more human emotion than he had yet shown. Exultation +leaped to his usually impassive eyes. Surely, had not this +expedition--which he had hoped would give surcease from ennui and stir +the pulses--had it not already yielded dividends? Had it not already +very richly repaid him? + +"See there, now!" he cried again, and gripped the rail with nervous +hands. + +"Lord above!" ejaculated the major, squinting through his binoculars. + + +"Astonished, eh?" demanded the Master, smiling with malice. "Didn't +think it would work, did you? Well, which do you choose now, +Major--bullets or vibrations?" + +"This--this is extraordinary!" exclaimed Bohannan. His glasses +traveled to and fro, sweeping the fringelike fan of the attackers, +still five or six miles away. "Faith, but this is--" + +The binoculars lowered slowly, as Bohannan watched a falling plane. +Everywhere ahead there in the brazier of the dawn, as the two men +stood watching from the wind-lashed gallery of the on-roaring liner, +attackers were dropping. All along the line they had begun to fall, +like ripe fruit in a hurricane. + +Not in bursts of flame did they go plunging down the depths, gyrating +like mad comets with long smoke-trailers and redly licking manes of +fire. Not in shattered fragments did they burst and plumb the abyss. +No; quite intact, unharmed, but utterly powerless they fell. + +Some spiraled down, like dead leaves twirling in autumnal breezes, +with drunken yaws and pitches. Others in long slants volplaned toward +the hidden sea, miles below the cloud-plain. A few pitched over and +over, or slid away in nose-dives and tail-spins. But one and all, as +they crossed what seemed an invisible line drawn out there ahead of +the onrushing Eagle of the Sky, bowed to some mysterious force. + +It seemed almost as if _Nissr_ were the center of a vast sphere that +moved with her--a sphere through which no enemy could pass--a sphere +against the intangible surface of which even the most powerful engines +of the air dashed themselves in vain. + +And still, as others and still others came charging up to the attack +like knights in joust, they fell. One by one the white wool cushions +of the cloud, gold-broidered by the magic needles of the sun, received +them. One by one they faded, vanished, were no more. + +So, all disappeared. Between a hundred and a hundred and twenty-five +planes were silently, swiftly, resistlessly sent down in no more +than twenty minutes, while the watchers stood there in the gallery, +fascinated by the wondrous precision and power of this new and +far-outflung globe of protection. + +And again the blood-red morning sky grew clear of attackers. Again, +between high heaven's black vault and the fantastic continent of cloud +below, nothing remained but free vacancy. The Master smiled. + +"Vibrations, my dear Major!" said he. "Neutralize the currents +delivered by the magnetos of hostile planes to their spark-plugs, and +you transform the most powerful engines into inert matter. Not all the +finely adjusted mechanism in the world, nor the best of petrol, nor +yet the most perfect skill is worth _that_," with a snap of the strong +fingers, "when the spark dies. + +"My device is the absolute ruler of whatever spark I direct it +against. Our own ignition is screened; but all others within the +critical radius become impotent. So you recognize, do you not, the +uselessness of machine-guns? The groundlessness of any fears about the +Air Patrol's forces?" + +"Lord, but this is wonderful!" Bohannan ejaculated. "If we'd only had +this in the Great War, the Hun would have been wiped out in a month!" + +"Yes, but we didn't have it," the Master smiled. "I've just finished +perfecting it. Put the last touches on it hardly twenty-four hours +ago. If there's ever another war, though--ah, see there, now! Here +comes one lone, last attacker!" + +He pointed. Far at the edge of empty cloudland, now less blood-stained +and becoming a ruddy pink under the risen sun, a solitary aerial +jouster had grown visible. + +The last attacker appeared a feeble gnat to dance thus alone in the +eye of morning. That one plane should, unaided, drive on at _Nissr's_ +huge, rushing bulk, seemed as preposterous as a mosquito trying +to lance a rhinoceros. The major directed a careful lens at this +survivor. + +"He has his nerve right in his baggage with him," announced the Celt. +"Sure, he's 'there.' There can be no doubt he's seen the others fall. +Yet--what now? He's turning tail, eh? He's on the run?" + +"Not a bit of it! He's driving straight ahead. That was only a dip and +turn, for better air. Ah, but he's good, that fellow! There's a man +after my own heart, Major. Maybe there's more than one, aboard that +plane. But there's one, anyhow, that's a real man!" + +The Master pondered a moment, then again picked up the phone. + +"Enemark?" he called. "That you?" + +"Hello! Yes, sir! What orders, sir?" + +"Cut off the ray! Quick, there!" + +"Yes, sir!" And through the phone the Master heard the _snick_ of a +switch being hastily thrown. + +"What's the idea, now?" demanded the major, astonished. "Going to let +that plane close in on us, and maybe riddle us?" + +The Master smiled, as he made answer: + +"I'll chance the bullets, this time. There's a _man_ on board that +plane. A _man_! And we--need men!" + +The Master smiled, as he made answer: + +"I'll chance the bullets, this time. There's a man on board that +plane. A man! And we--need men!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +LECLAIR, ACE OF FRANCE + +Swooping, rising, falling like a falcon in swift search of quarry, the +last plane of the Azores squadron swept in toward the on-rushing Eagle +of the Sky. + +Undismayed by the swift, inexplicable fall of all its companions, it +still thrust on for the attack. In a few minutes it had come off the +port bows of the giant air-liner, no more than half a mile distant. +Now the watchers saw it, slipping through some tenuous higher +cloud-banks that had begun to gather, a lean, swift, wasplike +speedster: one of the Air Control Board's--the A.C.B.'s--most rapid +aerial police planes. The binoculars of the Master and Bohannan drew +the machine almost to fingers' touch. + +"Only one man aboard her, with a machine-gun," commented the Master, +eyes at glass, as he watched the flick of sunlight on the attacker's +fuselage, the dip and glitter of her varnished wings, the blur of her +propellers. Already the roaring of her exhaust gusted down to them. + +"Ah, see? She's turning, now. Banking around! We may catch a burst of +machine-gun fire, in a minute. Or, no--she's coming up on our tail, +Major. I think she's going to try and board us!" + +"You going to let her?" protestingly demanded Bohannan. His hand +twitched against the butt of the Lewis. "In two seconds I could sight +an aft gun, sir, and blow that machine Hell-for-leather!" + +"No, no--let that fellow come aboard, if he wants," the Master +commanded. And with eager curiosity in his dark eyes, with vast wonder +what manner of human this might be who--all alone after having seen +more than a hundred comrades plunge--still ventured closing to grips, +the Master watched. + +The air-wasp was already swerving, making a spiral glide, coming up +astern with obvious intentions. As the two men watched--and as a score +of other eyes, from other galleries and ports likewise observed--the +lean wasp carried out her driver's plan. With a sudden, plunging +swoop, she dived at the Eagle of the Sky for all the world like a hawk +stooping at quarry. + +A moment she kept pace with the air-liner's whirring rush. She +hovered, dropped with a wondrous precision that proved her rider's +consummate skill, made a perfect landing on the long take-off that +stretched from rudders to wing observation galleries, atop the liner. + +Forward on _Nissr_ the wasp ran on her small, cushioned wheels. She +stopped, with jammed-on brakes, and came to rest not forty feet abaft +the Eagle's beak. + +Quite at once, without delay, the little door of the pilot-pit in the +wasp's head swung wide, and a heavily-swaddled figure clambered out. +This figure stood a moment, peering about through goggles. Then with a +free, quick stride, he started forward toward the gallery where he had +seen Bohannan and the Master. + +The two awaited him. Confidently he came into the wind-shielded +gallery on top of _Nissr's_ port plane. He advanced to within +about six feet, stopped, gave the military salute--which they both +returned--and in a throaty French that marked him as from Paris, +demanded: + +"Which of you gentlemen is in command, here?" + +"_Moi, monsieur!_" answered the Master, also speaking French. "And +what is your errand?" + +"I have come to inform you, in the name of the A.C.B.'s law, +recognized as binding by all air-traffic, that you and your entire +crew are under arrest." + +"Indeed? And then--" + +"I am to take charge of this machine at once, and proceed with it as +per further instructions from International Aerial headquarters at +Washington." + +"Very interesting news, no doubt," replied the Master, unmoved. "But I +cannot examine your credentials, nor can we negotiate matters of such +importance in so off-hand a manner. This gallery will not serve. Pray +accompany me to my cabin?" + +"_Parfaitement, monsieur!_ I await your pleasure!" + +The stranger's gesture, his bow, proclaimed the Parisian as well as +his speech. The Master nodded. All three proceeded in silence to +the hooded companion-way at the forward end of the take-off, that +sheltered the ladder. This they descended, to the main corridor. + +There they paused, a moment. + +"Major," said the Master, "pardon me, but I wish to speak to +our--guest, alone. You understand." + +The major's glance conveyed a world of indignant protest, but he +obeyed in silence. When he had withdrawn into the smoke-room, where +a brooding pipe would ill divert his mind from various wild +speculations, the Master slid open his own cabin door, and extended a +hand of welcome toward it. + +"_Apres vous, monsieur!_" said he. + +The A.C.B. officer entered, his vigorous, compact figure alive with +energy, intelligence. The Master followed, slid the door shut and +motioned to a chair beside the desk. This chair, of metal, was itself +placed upon a metal plate. The plate was new. At our last sight of the +cabin, it had not been there. + +Taking off goggles and gauntlets, and throwing open his sheepskin +jacket, the Frenchman sat down. The Master also plate was new. At our +last sight of the cabin, it had not been there. + +Taking off goggles and gauntlets, and throwing open his sheepskin +jacket, the Frenchman sat down. The Master also sat down at the desk. +A brief silence, more pregnant than any speech, followed. Each man +narrowly appraised the other. Then said the newcomer, still in that +admirable French of his: + +"You understand, of course, _n'est-ce pas?_ that it is useless to +offer any resistance to the authority of the A.C.B." + +"May I take the liberty of inquiring what your credentials may be, and +with whom I have the great pleasure of speaking?" returned the Master. +His eyes, mirroring admiration, peered with some curiosity at the +dark, lean face of the Frenchman. + +"I," answered the other, "am Lieutenant Andre Leclair, formerly of +the French flying forces, now a commander in the International Air +Police." + +"Leclair?" demanded the Master quickly, his face lighting with a +glad surprise. "Leclair, of the Mesopotamian campaign? Leclair, the +world-famous ace?" + +"Leclair, nothing else. I deprecate the adjectives." + +The Master's hand went out. The other took it. For a moment their grip +held, there under the bright white illumination of the cabin--for, +though daylight had begun fingering round the drawn curtains, the +glow-lamps still were burning. + +The hand-clasp broke. Leclair began: + +"As for you, monsieur, I already know you, of course. You are--" + +The Master raised a palm of protest. + +"Who I am does not matter," said he. "I am not a man, but an idea. My +personality does not count. All that counts is the program, the plan I +stand for. + +"Many here do not even know my name. No man speaks it. I am quite +anonymous; quite so. Therefore I pray you, keep silent on that matter. +What, after all, is the significance of a name? You are an ace, an +officer. So am I." + +"True, very true. Therefore I more keenly regret the fact that I must +place you under arrest, and that charges of piracy in the high air +must be lodged against you." + +"Thank you for the regret, indeed," answered the Master dryly. Save +for the fact that this strange man never laughed and seldom smiled, +one would have thought the odd twinkle in his eye prefaced merriment. +"Well, what now?" + +The Frenchman produced a silver cigarette-case, opened it and extended +it toward the man now technically his prisoner. As yet he had said no +word concerning the tremendous execution done the air police forces. +His offer of the cigarettes was as calm, as courteous as if they two +had met under circumstances of the most casual amity. The Master waved +the cigarettes away. + +"Thank you, no," said he. "I never smoke. But you will perhaps pardon +me if I nibble two or three of these khat leaves. You yourself, from +your experience in Oriental countries, know the value of khat." + +"I do, indeed," said the other, his eyes lighting up. + +"And may I offer you a few leaves?" + +"_Merci_! I thank you, but tobacco still satisfies." The Frenchman +lighted his cigarette, blew thin smoke, and cast intelligent, keen +eyes about the cabin. Said he: + +"You will not, of course, offer any resistance. I realize that I am +here among a large crew of men. I am all alone, it is true. You could +easily overpower me, throw me into the sea, and _voila_--I die. But +that would not be of any avail to you. + +"Already perhaps a hundred and fifty air police have fallen this +morning. It is strange. I do not understand, but such is the fact. +Nevertheless, I am here, myself. I have survived--survived, to convey +organized society's message of arrest. Individuals do not count. +They are only representatives of the mass-power of society. _N'est-ce +pas?_" + +"Quite correct. And then--" + +"Sooner or later you must land somewhere for petrol, you know. For +_essence_, eh? Just as sea-pirates were wiped out by the coming of +steam-power, which they had to adopt and which forced them to call +at ports for coal, so air-pirates will perish because they must have +essence. That is entirely obvious. Have I the honor of your signed +surrender, my dear sir, including that of all your men?" + +"Just one question, please!" + +"A thousand, if you like," smiled the Parisian, inhaling smoke. His +courtesy was perfect, but the glint of his eye made one think of a +tiger that purrs, with claws ready to strike. + +"What," demanded the Master, "is your opinion of the peculiar and +sudden fall of all your companions?" + +"I have no opinion as to that. Strange air-currents, failure of +ignition due to lack of oxygen--how do I know? A thousand things may +happen in the air." + +"Not to more than a hundred planes, all in a half-hour." + +The Frenchman shrugged indifferent shoulders and smiled. + +"It does not signify, in the least," he murmured. "I am here. That +suffices." + +"Do you realize that I, perhaps, have forces at my command which may +negative ordinary conditions and recognized laws?" + +"Nothing can negative the forces of organized society. I repeat my +request, _monsieur_, for your unconditional written surrender." + +The Master's hand slid over the desk and rested a moment on a button +there. A certain slight tremor passed through the Frenchman's body. +Into his eyes leaped an expression of wonder, of astonishment. His +mouth quivered, as if he would have spoken; but he remained dumb. +The hand that held his cigarette, resting on his knee, relaxed; the +cigarette fell, smoldering, to the metal plate. And on the instant the +fire in it died, extinguished by some invisible force. + +"Are you prepared to sign a receipt for this airship, if I deliver her +over to you, sir?" demanded the Master, still speaking in French. He +smiled oddly. + +No answer. A certain swelling of the Frenchman's throat became +visible, and his lips twitched slightly, but no sound was audible. A +dull flush mounted over his bronzed cheek. + +"Ah, you do not answer?" asked the other, with indulgent patronage. +"I assume, however, that you have the authority to accept my surrender +and that of my crew. I assume, also, that you are willing to sign for +the airship." He opened a drawer, took a paper, and on it wrote a few +words. These he read over carefully, adding a comma, a period. + +Leclair watched him with fixed gaze, struggling against some strange +paralysis that bound him with unseen cords of steel. The Frenchman's +eyes widened, but remained unblinking with a sort of glazed fixity. +The Master slid the paper toward him on the desk. + +"_Voila, monsieur!_" said he. "Will you sign this?" + +A shivering tremor of the Frenchman's muscles, as the ace sat there so +strangely silent and motionless, betrayed the effort he was making +to rise, to lift even a hand. Beads of sweat began to ooze on his +forehead; veins to knot there Still he remained seated, without power +to speak or move. + +"What? You do not accept?" asked the Master, frowning as with +puzzlement and displeasure. "But, _allons donc!_ this is strange +indeed. Almost as strange as the fact that your whole air-squadron, +with the sole exception of your own plane, was dropped through the +clouds. + +"I have no wish unnecessarily to trouble your mind. Let me state the +facts. Not one of those machines was precipitated into the sea. No +life was lost. Ah, that astonishes you?" + +The expression in the Frenchman's face betrayed intense amazement, +through his eyes alone. The rest of his features remained almost +immobile. The Master smiling, continued: + +"The fleet was dropped to exactly one thousand feet above the sea. +There the inhibition on the engines was released and the engines began +functioning again. So no harm was done. But not one of those machines +can rise again higher than one thousand feet until I so choose. + +"They are all hopelessly outdistanced, far down there below the +cloud-floor. Midges could catch a hawk as readily as _they_ could +overhaul this Eagle of the Sky. + +"Nowhere within a radius of twenty-five miles can any of those planes +rise to our level. This is curious, but true. In the same way, on much +the same principle, though through a very different application of it, +you cannot speak or move until I so desire. All your voluntary muscles +are completely, even though temporarily, paralyzed. The involuntary +ones, which carry on your vital processes, are untouched. + +"In one way, _monsieur_, you are as much alive as ever In another you +are almost completely dead. Your fleet has enjoyed the distinction of +having been the very first to serve as the object of a most important +experiment. Likewise, your own person has had the honor of serving +as material for another experiment, equally important--an experiment +whose effect on your body is similar to that of the first one on the +air-fleet. + +"You can hear me, perfectly. You can see me. I ask you to watch me +closely. Then consider, if you please, the matter of placing me under +arrest." + +His hand touched a small disk near the button he had first pressed; +a disk of some strange metal, iridescent, gleaming with a peculiar +greenish patina that, even as one watched it, seemed to blend into +other shades, as an oil-scum transmutes its hues on water. + +Now a faint, almost inaudible hum began to make itself heard. This hum +was not localized. One could not have told exactly whence it came. It +filled the cabin with a kind of soft murmuring that soothed the senses +like the drowsy undertone of bees at swarm. + +For a moment nothing happened. Then the pupils of Leclair's eyes began +to dilate with astonishment. Immovable though he still remained, the +most intense wonder made itself apparent in his look. Even something +akin to fear was mirrored in his gaze. Again his lips twitched. Though +he could form no word, a dry, choking gasp came from his throat. + +And there was cause for astonishment; yes, even for fear. A thing +was beginning to take place, there in the brightly lighted cabin of +_Nissr_, such as man's eye never yet had beheld. + +The Master was disappearing. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +MIRACLES, SCOURGE OF FLAME + +His form, sitting there at the desk--his face wearing an odd +smile--had already begun to grow less distinct. It seemed as if the +light surrounding him had faded, though everywhere else in the cabin +it still gleamed with its accustomed brilliance. And as this light +around him began to blur into a russet dimness, forming a sort of +screen between him and visibility, the definition of his outlines +began to melt away. + +The Master still remained visible, as a whole; but the details of him +were surely vanishing. And as they vanished, faintly a high-light, a +shadow, a bit of metal-work showed through the space where he sat. +He seemed a kind of dissolving cloud, through which now more and more +clearly objects beyond him could be distinguished. Impossible though +this seemed, it was indubitably true. + +As he disappeared, he kept speaking. The effect of that undiminished +voice, calm, slow, resonant, issuing from that disintegrating vapor, +stirred the hair on the captive Frenchman's neck and scalp. + +"Vibration, _mon cher monsieur_," said he, "is everything. According +to the researches of the Ecole Polytechnique, in Paris--no doubt you, +yourself, have studied there, _n'est-ce pas?_--vibration of the first +octave from 2 to 8 per second, give us no sense-impression. From the +fourth to the fifteenth octave, 16 to 32,768 per second, we get sound. +The qualities of the 16th to the 24th are--or have been, until I +investigated--quite unknown. The 25th to the 35th, 33, 554, 432 to 34, +859, 738, 868 vibrations per second, give us electricity. Thence to +the 45th, again unknown. + +"The 4th to the 48th give us heat. The 49th gives light The 50th, +chemical rays, vibrating 1, 125, 899, 906, 842, 624 per second. The +51st to the 57th have never been touched by anyone save myself. The +X-ray group extends from the 58th to the 61st octave. The 62d, with 4, +611, 686, 427, 889, 904 vibrations per second, is a field where only +I have worked. And beyond these, no doubt, other octaves extend with +infinite possibilities. + +"You will note, _monsieur_," he continued, while the dun penumbra +still more and more withdrew him from Leclair's sight, "that great +lacunae exist in the scale of vibratory phenomena. Some of the +so-called lower animals take cognizance of vibrations that mean +nothing to us. Insects hear notes far above our dull ears. Ants are +susceptible to lights and colors unseen to our limited eyes. The +emperor-moth calls its mate--so says Fabre--by means of olfactory +vibrations totally uncomprehended by us. The universe is full of hues, +tones, radiant phenomena that escape us, because our senses are not +attuned to them." + +Steadily he spoke, and steadily the humming drone that filled the +cabin kept its undertones that lulled, that soothed. The Frenchman, +staring, hardly breathed. Rigid he sat and pale, with sweat now slowly +guttering down his face, his jaws clamped hard and white. + +"If the true nature of the universe could suddenly be revealed to our +senses," went on the Master, now hardly more than a dull blur, "we +could not survive. The crash of cosmic sound, the blaze of strange +lights, the hurricane forces of tempestuous energies sweeping space +would blind, deafen, shrivel, annihilate us like so many flies swept +into a furnace. Nature has been kind; she has surrounded us with +natural ray-filters of protection." + +His voice now seemed issuing from a kind of vacancy. Save for a slight +darkening of the air, nothing was visible of him. He went on: + +"With our limited senses we are, in a way, merely peeping out +of little slits in an armored conning-tower of life, out at the +stupendous vibratory battles of the cosmos. Other creatures, in other +planets, no doubt have other sense-organs to absorb other vibratory +ranges. Their life-experiences are so different from ours that +we could not possibly grasp them, any more than a blind man could +understand a painting. + +"Nor could those creatures understand human life. We are safe in +our own little corner of the universe, comfortably sheltered in our +vestments of clay. And what we cannot understand, though it is all +perfectly natural, we call religion, the supernatural, God." + +From a great vacancy, the Master's words proceeded. Leclair, tugging +in vain at the bonds that, invisible yet strong as steel, held him +powerless, stared with wild eyes. + +"There is no supernatural," said the now disembodied voice. "What +we call spirit, psychic force, hypnosis, spiritualism, the fourth +dimension, is really only life on another scale of vibration. If we +could see the whole scale, we would recognize it as a vast, coherent, +perfectly natural and rational whole, in which we human beings fill +but a very insignificant part. That, monsieur, is absolutely true! + +"I have investigated, I have ventured along the coasts of the unknown +vibratory sea, and even sailed out a little way on the waters of +that unknown, mysterious ocean. Yet even I know nothing. What you are +beholding now is simply a slightly new form of vibratory effect. The +force that is holding you paralyzed on that chair is still another. A +third, sent down the air-squadron. And--there are many more. + +"I am not really vanishing. That is but an illusion of your senses, +unable to penetrate the screen surrounding me. I am still here, as +materially as ever. Illusion, _mon cher monsieur_, yet to you very +real!" + +The voice seemed moving about. The Frenchman now perceived something +like a kind of moving blur in the cabin. It appeared a sort of hole of +darkness, in the light; and yet the light shone through it, too. + + +Every human eye has a blind spot in the retina. When things pass over +this blind spot, they absolutely vanish; the other eye supplies the +missing object. To the French ace it seemed that his eyes were all +blind spots, so far as the Master was concerned. The effect of this +vacancy moving about, shifting a chair, stirring a book, speaking to +him like a spirit disembodied, its footfalls audible but its own self +invisible, chilled the captive's blood. The Master said: + +"Now I have totally disappeared from your eye or any other material +eye. I cannot even see myself! No doubt dwellers on some other planet +would perceive me by some means we cannot imagine. Yet I am materially +here. You feel my touch, now, on your shoulder. See, now I put out the +lights; now I draw aside this curtain, and admit the golden morning +radiance. You see that radiance, but you do not see me. + +"A miracle? _Pas du tout!_ Nothing but an application of perfectly +natural laws. And so--well, now let us come back to the matter under +discussion. You have come hither to arrest me, _monsieur_. What do +you think of arresting me, now? I am going to leave that to your own +judgment." + +His voice approached the desk. The chair moved slightly, and gave +under his weight. Something touched the button on the desk. Something +pressed the iridescent metal disk. The humming note sank, faded, died +away. + +Gradually a faint haze gathered in the chair. Dim, brownish fog +congealed there. The chair became clouded with it; and behind that +chair objects grew troubled, turbid, vague. + +The ace felt inhibitions leaving him. His eyes began to blink; his +half-opened mouth closed with a snap; a long, choking groan escaped +his lips. + +"_Nom de Dieu_" he gulped, and fell weakly to rubbing his arms and +legs that still prickled with a numb tingling. "_Mais, nom de Dieu!_" + +The Master, now swiftly becoming visible, stood up again, smiled, +advanced toward his guest--or prisoner, if you prefer. + +A moment he stood there, till every detail had grown as clear as +before this astounding demonstration of his powers. Then he stretched +forth his hand. + +"Leclair," said he, in a voice of deep feeling, "I know and appreciate +you for a man of parts, of high courage and devotion to duty in the +face of almost certain death. The manner in which you came ahead, even +after all your companions had fallen--in which you boarded us, with +the strong probability of death confronting you, proves you the kind +of man who wins and keeps respect among fighting men. + +"If you still desire my arrest and the delivery to you of this +air-liner, I am at your complete disposal. You have only to sign the +receipt I have already written. If--" and for a moment the Master +paused, while his dark eyes sought and held the other's, "if, +_monsieur_, you desire to become one of the Flying Legion, and to take +part in the greatest adventure ever conceived by the mind of man, in +the name of all the Legion I welcome you to comradeship!" + +"_Dieu_!" choked the lieutenant, gripping the Master's hand. "You mean +that I--I--" + +"Yes, that you can be one of us." + +"Can that be true?" + +"It is!" + +The Master's right hand closed firmly on Leclair's. The Master's other +hand went out and gripped him by the shoulder. + +To his feet sprang the Frenchman. Though still shaken and trembling, +he drew himself erect. His right hand loosened itself from the +Master's; it went to his aviator's helmet in a sharp salute. + +"_J'y suis! J'y reste!_" cried he. "_Mon capitaine!_" + +The day passed uneventfully, at high altitudes, steadily rushing +into the eye of the East. In the stillness and solitude of the upper +air-lanes, _Nissr_ roared onward, invincibly, with sun and sky above, +with shining clouds piled below in swiftly retreating masses that spun +away to westward. + +Far below, sea-storm and rain battled over the Atlantic. Upborne on +the wings of the eastward-setting wind, _Nissr_ felt nothing of such +trivialities. Twice or thrice, gaps in the cloud-veil let dim ocean +appear to the watchers in the glass observation pits; and once +they spied a laboring speck on the waters--a great passenger-liner, +worrying toward New York in heavy weather. The doings of such, and of +the world below, seemed trivial to the Legionaries as follies of dazed +insects. + +No further attack was made on _Nissr_, nor was anything seen of any +other air-squadron of International Police. The wireless picked up, +however, a cross-fire of dazed, uncomprehending messages being hurled +east and west, north and south--messages of consternation, doubt, +anger. + +The world, wholly at a loss to understand the thing that had come upon +it, was listening to reports from the straggling Azores fleet as it +staggered into various ports. Every continent already was buzzing with +alarm and rage. In less than eighteen hours the calm and peaceful ways +of civilization had received an epoch-making jar. All civilization was +by the ears--it had become a hornet's nest prodded by a pole no one +could understand or parry. + +And the Master, sitting at his desk with reports and messages piling +up before him, with all controls at his finger-tips, smiled very +grimly to himself. + +"If they show such hysteria at just the initial stages of the game," +he murmured, "what will they show when--" + +The Legion had already begun to fall into well-disciplined routine, +each man at his post, each doing duty to the full, whether that +duty lay in pilot-house or cooks' galley, in engine-room or pit, in +sick-bay or chartroom. The gloom caused by the death and burial at +sea of Travers, the New Zealander, soon passed. This was a company +of fighting men, inured to death in every form. And death they had +reckoned as part of the payment to be made for their adventuring. +This, too, helped knit the fine mass-spirit already binding them +together into a coherent, battling group. + +A little after two in the afternoon, _Nissr_ passed within far sight +of the Azores, visible in cloud-rifts as little black spots sown +on the waters like sparse seeds on a burnished plate of metal. This +habitation of man soon slipped away to westward, and once more nothing +remained but the clear, cold severity of space, with now and then a +racing drift of rain below, and tumbling, stormy weather all along the +sea horizons. + +The Master and Bohannan spent some time together after the Azores had +been dropped astern and off the starboard quarter. "Captain Alden" +remained in her cabin. She reported by phone, however, that the wound +was really only superficial, through the fleshy upper part of the +left arm. If this should heal by first intention, as it ought, no +complications were to be expected. + +Day drew on toward the shank of the afternoon. The sun, rayless, +round, blue-white, lagged away toward the west, seeming to sway in +high heaven as _Nissr_ took her long dips with the grace and swiftness +of a flying falcon. Some time later the cloud-masses thinned and broke +away, leaving the world of waters spread below in terrible immensity. + +As the African coast drew near, its arid influences banished vapor. +Now, clear to the up-curving edge of the world, nothing could be seen +below save the steel-gray, shining plains of water. Waves seemed not +to exist. All looked smooth and polished as a mirror of bright metal. + +At last, something like dim veils of whiteness began to draw and +shimmer on the eastern skyline--the vague glare of the sun-crisped +Sahara flinging its furnace ardor to the sky. To catch first sight +of land, the Master and Bohannan climbed the ladder again, to the +take-off, and thence made their way into the starboard observation +gallery. There they brought glasses to bear. Though nothing definite +could yet be seen through the shrouding dazzle that swaddled the +world's rim, this fore-hint of land confirmed their reckonings of +latitude and longitude. + +"We can't be more than a hundred and fifty miles west of the +Canaries," judged the major. "Sure, we can eat supper tonight in an +oasis, if we're so minded--with Ouled Nails and houris to hand round +the palm-wine and--" + +"You forget, my dear fellow," the Master interrupted, "that the first +man who goes carousing with wine or women, dies before a firing-squad. +That's not the kind of show we're running!" + +"Ah, sure, I did forget!" admitted the Celt. "Well, well, a look at a +camel and a palm tree could do no harm. And it won't be long, at this +rate, before--" + +A sudden, violent concussion, far aft, sent a quivering shudder +through the whole fabric of the giant liner. Came a swift burst of +flame; black, greasy smoke gushed from the stern, trailing on the +high, cold air. Long fire-tongues, banners of incandescence, flailed +away, roaring into space. + +Shouts burst, muffled, from below. A bell jangled madly. The crackle +of pistol-fire punched dully through the rushing swiftness. + +With a curse the major whirled. Frowning, the Master turned and +peered. _Nissr_, staggering, tilted her beak sharply oceanward. At a +sick angle, she slid, reeling, toward the burnished, watery floor that +seemed surging up to meet her. + +A hoarse shout from the far end of the take-off drew the Master's eyes +thither. With strange agility, almost apelike in its prehensile power, +a human figure came clambering up over the outer works, clutching at +stays, wires, struts. + +Other shouts echoed thinly in the rarefied, high air. The climber +laughed with savage mockery. + +"I've done for _you_!" he howled exultantly. "Fuel-tanks afire--you'll +all go to Hell blazing when they explode! But first--I'll get the boss +pirate of the outfit--" + +Swiftly the clutching figure scrabbled in over the rail, dropped +to the metal plates of the take-off--now slanting steeply down and +forward--and broke into a staggering run directly toward the gallery +where stood Bohannan and the Master. + +At the little ladder-housing sounded a warning shout. The head and +shoulders of Captain Alden became visible there. In Alden's right hand +glinted a service-revolver. + +But already the attacker--the stowaway--had snatched a pistol from his +belt. And, as he plunged at full drive down the take-off platform, he +thrust the pistol forward. + +Almost at point-blank range, howling maledictions, he hurled a +murderous fusillade at the Master of the now swiftly falling Eagle of +the Sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +"CAPTAIN ALDEN" MAKES GOOD + +The crash of shattered glass mingled with the volley flung by the +murderously spitting automatic of the stowaway. From the forward +companion, at the top of the ladder, "Captain Alden" fired--one shot +only. + +No second shot was needed. For the attacker, grunting, lunged forward, +fell prone, sprawled on the down-slanting plates of the take-off +platform. His pistol skidded away, clattering, over the buffed metal. + +"As neat a shot as the other's was bad," calmly remarked the Master, +brushing from his sleeve some glittering splinters of glass. A lurch +of _Nissr_ threw him against the rail. He had to steady himself there, +a moment. Down his cheek, a trickle of blood serpented. "Yes, rather +neat," he approved. + +He felt something warm on his face, put up his hand and inspected red +fingers. + +"Hm! A sliver from that broken shield must have cut me," said he, and +dismissed it wholly from his mind. + +Major Bohannan, with chromatic profanity, ran from the gallery. +"Captain Alden" drew herself up the top rounds of the ladder, emerged +wholly from the companion and likewise started for the wounded +interloper. Both, as they ran aft toward the fallen man, zigzagged +with the pitch and yaw of the stricken airship, slipped on the plates, +staggered up the incline. + +And others, from the aft companion, now came running with cries, their +bodies backgrounded by the leaping flames and smoke that formed a wake +behind the wounded Eagle of the Sky. + +Before the major and Alden could reach the stowaway, he rallied. Up +to hands and knees he struggled. He dragged himself away to starboard. +Trailing blood, he scrambled to the rail. + +The major snatched his revolver from its holster. Up came the +"Captain's" gun, once more. + +"No, no!" the Master shouted, stung into sudden activity. "Not that! +Alive--take him alive!" + +The stowaway's answer was a laugh of wild derision; a hideous, shrill, +tremulous laugh that rose in a kind of devilish, mockery on the air of +that high level. For just a second the man hung there, swaying, at the +rail. Beyond him, up the tilt of the falling _Nissr_, brighter flames +whipped back. Came a burst of smoke, another concussion, a shuddering +impact that trembled through the whole vast air-liner. White-hot +fire ribboned back and away, shredded into little, whirling gusts of +incandescence that dissolved in black smoke. + +"Take me alive, eh?" the stowaway shouted, madly. "Ha-ha! I see you! +You're all dead men, anyhow! I'll go first--show you I'm not afraid!" + +With astonishing agility he leaped. Hands on rail, with a last supreme +burst of the energy that innervated his dying body, he vaulted clear. +Out and away he hurled himself. Emptiness of space gathered him to its +dizzy, vacant horror. + +The Master, quite unmindful of the quickening bloodstream down his +face and neck, looked sharply--as if impersonally interested in some +problem of ballistics--at the spinning, gyrating figure that with +grotesque contortions plummeted the depths. + +Over and over, whirling with outflung arms and legs, dropped the +stowaway. Down though _Nissr_ herself was plunging, he fell faster. +Swiftly his body dwindled, shrinking to a dwarf, an antlike thing, a +black dot. Far below on the steely sea-plain, a tiny bubble of white +leaped out, then faded. That pinpoint of foam was the stowaway's +grave. + +"Very good," approved the Master, unmoved. He lurched against the +rail, as a sudden maneuver of the pilot somewhat flattened out the +air-liner's fall. The helicopters began to turn, to buzz, to roar +into furious activity, seeking to check the plunge. The major came +staggering back. But quicker than he, "Captain Alden" was at the +Master's side. + +"He shot you?" the woman cried, pointing. + +"Bah! A splinter of glass!" And the Master shook off the blood with +a twitch of his head. "That was a neat bull's-eye you made on him, +Captain. It saves you from punishment for forgetting you were under +arrest; for climbing the ladder and coming above-decks. Yes--I've got +to rescind my order. You're at liberty. And--" + +"And I stay with the expedition, sir?" demanded Alden, her hand going +out in an involuntary gesture of appeal. For the first time, she +was showing eagerness of a feminine sort. But she suppressed it, +instantly, and stood at attention. "If I have done you any service, +sir, reward me by letting me stay!" + +"I will see. There may be no expedition to stay with. Now--" + +"Life-belts, sir? And take to the small planes?" came a voice from +the companion-way. The face of Manderson--of him who had found the +stowaway--appeared there. Manderson looked anxious, a trifle pale. +Aft, more figures were appearing. In spite of the iron discipline of +the Legion, signs of disorder were becoming evident. "We're hard hit, +sir," Manderson reported. "Every man for himself, now? Orders, sir?" + +"My orders are, every man back to his post!" cried the Master, his +voice a trumpet-call of resolution. "There'll be no _sauve qui peut_, +here!" He laid a hand on the butt of his pistol. "Back, every man of +you!" + +Came another dull, jarring explosion. _Nissr_ reeled to port. The +Legionaries trickled down the companion-ladders. From somewhere below +a cry rose: "The aft starboard float--it's gone! And the stabilizer--" + +Confused sounds echoed. _Nissr_ sagged drunkenly, lost headway and +slewed off her course, turning slowly in the thin, cold air. Her +propellers had been shut off; all the power of her remaining engines +had now been clutched into the helicopter-drive. + +The Master, indifferently smearing off the blood from his neck, made +his way toward the forward companion. He had to hold the rail with one +hand, for now the metal plates of the observation gallery were sharply +canted. _Nissr_ had got wholly out of control, so far as steerage-way +was concerned; but the rate of her fall seemed to have been a trifle +checked. + +Alden and the major followed their chief to the companion. All three +descended the ladder, which hung inward and away from them at a sharp +angle. They reached the strangely inclined floor of the main corridor, +and, bracing themselves against the port wall, worked their way aft. + +Not all the admirable discipline of the Legion could prevent some +confusion. Such of the men as were on duty in pilot-house, pits, +wireless, or engine-room were all sticking; but a number of off-duty +Legionaries were crowding into the main corridor. Among them the +Master saw Leclair and Rrisa. No one showed fear. The white feather +was not visible; but a grim tension had developed. Death, imminent, +sobers the boldest. + +From the engine-room, shouts, orders, were echoing. The engine-room +door flung open. Smoke vomited--thick, choking, gray. Auchincloss +reeled out, clutching at his throat. + +"What chance?" the Master cried, staggering toward him. + +"If--the fire spreads to the forward petrol-tanks, none!" gasped the +chief engineer. "Aft pit's flooded with blazing oil. Gorlitz--my God!" + +"What about Gorlitz?" + +"Burned alive--to a crisp! I've got four extinguishers at work. Two +engines out of commission. Another only limping! And--" + +He crumpled, suddenly, dropping to the metals. The Master saw through +the clinging smoke, by the dimmed light of the frosted disks, that the +skin of the engineer's face and hands was cooked to a char. + +"If he's breathed flame--" began the major. Alden knelt beside him, +peered closely, made a significant, eloquent gesture. + +"Volunteers!" shouted the Master, plunging forward. + +Into the fumes and smother, half a dozen men fought their way. From +the bulkheads they snatched down the little fire-grenades. The Master +went first. Bohannan was second, with Rrisa a close third. Leclair in +his forward rush almost stumbled over Alden. The "Captain," masked and +still unrecognized as a woman by any save the Master, was thrust back +from the door by the Celt, as she too tried to enter. + +"No, not you!" he shouted. "You, with only one arm--faith, it's worse +than useless! Back, you!" Then he and many plunged into the blazing +engine-room. + +Thus they closed with the fire-devil now licking ravenous tongues +about the vitals of _Nissr_. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +HOSTILE COASTS + +An hour from that time, the air-liner was drifting sideways at low +altitudes, hardly five hundred feet above the waves. A sad spectacle +she made, her wreckage gilded by the infinite splendors of the sun now +lowering toward the horizon. Her helicopters were droning with all the +force that could be flung into them from the crippled power-plant. Her +propellers--some charred to mere stumps on their shafts--stood starkly +motionless. + +Oddly awry she hung, driven slowly eastward by the wind. Her rudder +was burned clean off; her stern, warped, reeking with white fumes that +drifted on the late afternoon air told of the fury that had blazed +about her. Flames no longer roared away; but the teeth of their +consuming rage had bitten deep. Where the aft observation pit had +been, now only a twisted net of metal-work remained, with all the +plate-glass melted and cracked away. The body of Gorlitz, trapped +there, had mercifully fallen into the sea. That ghastly thing, at any +rate, no longer remained. + +Four Legionaries were in the pilot-house: the Master, Bohannan, +Leclair, and "Captain Alden." For the most part, they held silence. +There was little for them to say. At length the major spoke. + +"Still sagging down, eh?" he commented, his eyes on the needle of the +altimeter. "Some situation! Two men dead and others injured. Engines +crippled, propellers the same, and two floats so damaged we couldn't +stay on the surface if we came down. Well, by God!" + +Leclair looked very grim. + +"I regret only," said he in broken English, "that the stowaway escaped +us. Ah, _la belle execution_, if we had him now!" + +The Master, at the starboard window, kept silence. No one sat at the +wheel. Of what use could it have been? The Master was looking far +to eastward, now with the naked eye, now sweeping the prospect with +binoculars. He was studying the African coast, clearly in sight as a +long, whitish line of sand with a whiter collar of foamy surf, fifteen +miles away. + +A few gulls had begun to show--strange, small gulls, yellow-beaked +and swift. Off to northward, a native dhow was beating down-wind with +full-bellied lateen sail, with matting over its hatches. Heat was +beginning to grow intense, for no longer was _Nissr_ making a gale +that cooled; no longer was she at high, cold levels. Africa, the +tropics, had suddenly become real; and the sudden contrast oppressed +them all. + +Through the shimmering, quivering air, an arid pallor extended up the +eastern sky; a pale, milky illumination, dull-white over the desert, +that told of the furnace into which _Nissr_ was drifting--if indeed +she could survive till she reached land. The glasses showed tawny +reaches of sand, back a little from the coast; and beyond these, low +hills, or rather rolling dunes, lay empurpled by vibrant heat-hazes. + +"It won't be much like navigating over that Hell-spot, three or four +miles in the air," muttered Bohannan. He looked infinitely depressed. +The way he gnawed at his red mustache showed how misadventure had +raveled his nerve. + +No one answered him. Leclair lighted a cigarette, and silently +squinted at Africa with eyes long inured to the sun of that land of +flame. Alden, at the other window, kept silence, too. That masked +face could express no emotion; but something in the sag of the woman's +shoulders, the droop of her head, showed how profound and intense was +her suffering. + +"Faith, are we going to make it, chief?" asked the major, impatiently. +Not his the temperament that can wait in silence. He made a singular +figure as he lounged there at the pilot-house window, huge elbows +on the sill. One hand was wrapped in bandages, well saturated with +croton-oil. Chars and burns on his uniform showed where blazing petrol +from the final explosion had spattered him. + +His eyes, like the Master's, were bloodshot, inflamed. Part of his red +crop of hair had been singed off, and all his eyelashes were gone, +as well as half his bushy red brows. But the ugly set of his jaw, the +savage gleam of his eyes showed that no physical pain was depressing +him. His only trouble was the thought that perhaps the expedition of +the Flying Legion had ended before it had really begun. + +"What chance, sir?" he insisted. "It's damned bad, according to my way +of thinking." + +"What you think and what you say won't have any weight with this +problem of aerial flotation," the Master curtly retorted. "If we make +land, we make it, that's all, sir." He relapsed into silence. Leclair +muttered, in Arabic--his words audible only to himself--an ancient +Islamic proverb: "Allah knows best, and time will show!" Then, after a +moment's pause, the single word: "Kismet!" + +Silence again, in which the Master's brain reviewed the stirring +incidents of the past hour and a half--how the stowaway had evaded +Dr. Lombardo's vigilance and (thoroughly familiar with every detail +of _Nissr_) had succeeded in making his way to the aft port fuel-tank, +from which he had probably drained petrol through a pet-cock and +thereafter set it afire; how the miscreant had then scrambled up the +aft companion-ladder, to shoot down the Master himself; and how only +a horrible, nightmare fight against the flames had saved even this +shattered wreck of the air-liner. + +It had all been Kloof's fault, of course, and Lombardo's. Those +two had permitted this disaster to befall, and--yes, they should be +punished, later. But how? The Master's mind attacked this problem. +Each of the four Legionaries in the pilot-house was busy with his own +thoughts. + +On and on toward the approaching shores of Africa drifted the wounded +Eagle of the Sky, making no headway save such as the west wind +gave her. Steadily the needle of the altimeter kept falling. The +high-pitched drone of the helicopters told that the crippled engines +were doing their best; but even that best was not quite enough. + +Like a tired creature of the air, the liner lagged, she sank. Before +half the distance had been covered to that gleaming beach, hardly six +hundred feet lay between the lower gallery of _Nissr_ and the long, +white-toothed waves that, slavering, hungered for her gigantic body +and the despairing crew she bore. + +Suddenly the Master spoke into the engine-room telephone. + +"Can you do any better?" exclaimed the chief. "This is not enough!" + +"We're doing our best, sir," came the voice of Frazier, now in charge. + +"If you can possibly strain a point, in some way, and wring a little +more power out of the remaining engines--" + +"We're straining them beyond the limit now, sir." + +The Master fell silent, pondering. His eyes sought the dropping +needle. Then the light of decision filled his eyes. A smile came to +his face, where the deep gash made by the splinter of glass had been +patched up with collodion and cotton. He plugged in on another line, +by the touch of a button. + +"Simonds! Is that you?" + +"Yes, sir," answered the quartermaster, in charge of all the stores. + +"Have you jettisoned everything?" + +"All we can spare, sir. All but the absolute minimum of food and +water." + +"Overboard with them all!" + +"But, sir--" + +"And drop the body of Auchincloss, too. This is no time for +sentiment!" + +"But--" + +"My order, sir!" + +Five minutes later, cases, boxes, bales, water-tanks, began spinning +from open ports and down through the trap-door in the lower gallery. +Then followed the seared corpse of Auchincloss, a good man who had +died in harness, fighting to the end. Those to whom the duty was +assigned of giving his metal-weighted body sea burial turned away +their eyes, so that they might not see that final plunge. But +the sound of the body striking the waves rocketed up to them with +sickening distinctness. + +Lightened a little, _Nissr_ seemed to rally for a few minutes. The +altimeter needle ceased its drop, trembled and even rose _.275_ +degrees. + +"God! If we only had an ounce more power!" burst out the major, his +mouth mumbling the loose ends of that flamboyant mustache. The Master +remained quite impassive, and made no answer. Bohannan reddened, +feeling that the chief's silence had been another rebuff. And on, +on drifted _Nissr_, askew, up-canted, with the pitiless sunlight +of approaching evening in every detail revealing--as it slanted in, +almost level, over the far-heaving infinitudes of the Atlantic--the +ravages wrought by flame. + +Bohannan could not long be silent. The exuberance of his nature burst +forth with a half-defiant: + +"If _I_ were in charge, which I'm not, I'd stop those damned +helicopters, let her down, turn what power we've got into the +remaining propellers, and taxi ashore!" + +"And probably sink, or break up in the surf, on the beach, there!" +curtly rejoined the Master. "Ah! _What_?" + +His binoculars checked their sweep along the coast, which in its +absolute barrenness looked a place of death for whatever might have +life there. + +"You see something, _mon capitaine?_" asked Leclair, blowing smoke +from his cigarette. "Allow me also to look! Where is it?" + +"Just to north of that gash--that wady, or gully, making down to the +beach. You see it, eh?" + +Slowly the French ace swept the glasses along the surf-foamed fringes +of that desolation. Across the lenses no tree flung its green promise +of shade. No house, no hut was visible. Not even a patch of grass +could be discerned. The African coast lay stretched out in ivory +nakedness, clean, bare, swept and garnished by simooms, by cruel heat, +by the beatings of surf eternal. + +Back of it extended an iron hinterland, savage with desert spaces of +sun-baked, wrinkled earth and sand here and there leprously mottled +with white patches of salt and with what the Arabs call _sabkhah_, +or sheets of gypsum. The setting sun painted all this horror of +desolation with strange rose and orange hues, with umbers and pale +purples that for a moment reminded the Master of the sunset he had +witnessed from the windows of _Niss'rosh_, the night his great plan +had come to him. Only eight days ago, that night had been; it seemed +eight years! + +Carefully Leclair observed this savage landscape, over which a +brilliant sky, of luminous indigo and lilac, was bending to the vague +edge of the world. Serious though the situation was, the Frenchman +could not repress a thought of the untamed beauty of that scene--a +land long familiar to him, in the days when he had flown down these +coasts on punitive expeditions against the rebellious Beni Harb clans +of the Ahl Bayt, or People of the Black Tents. Africa, once more seen +under such unexpected circumstances, roused his blood as he peered at +the crude intensity of it, the splendid blaze of its seared nakedness +under the blood-red sun-ball now dropping to rest. + +All at once his glass stopped its sweep. + +"Smoke, my Captain!" he exclaimed. "See, it curls aloft like a lady's +ringlet. And--beyond the wady--" + +"Ah, you see them, too?" + +The major's glass, held unsteadily in his unbandaged hand, was now +fixed on the indicated spot, as was "Captain Alden's." + +"I see them," the Master answered. "And the green flag--the flag of +the Prophet--" + +"The flag, _oui, mon capitaine!_ There are many men, but--" + +"But what, Lieutenant?" + +"Ah, do you not see? No horses. No camels. That means their oasis is +not far. That means they are not traveling. This is no nomadic moving +of the Ahl Bayt. No, no, my Captain. It is--" + +"Well, what?" + +"A war-party. What you in your language call the--the reception +committee, _n'est-ce pas?_ Ah, yes, the reception committee." + +"And the guests?" demanded the major. + +"The guests are all the members of the Flying Legion!" answered the +Frenchman, with another draw at his indispensable cigarette. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +THE WAITING MENACE + +"Ah, sure now, but that's fine!" exclaimed the major with delight, his +eyes beginning to sparkle in anticipation. "The best of news! A little +action, eh? I ask nothing better. All I ask is that we live to reach +the committee--live to be properly killed! It's this dying-alive that +kills _me_! Faith, it tears the nerves clean out of my body!" + +"That is a true Arab idea, Major," smiled Leclair. "To this extent you +are brother to the Bedouin. They call a man _fatis_, as a reproach, +who dies any other way than fighting. May you never--may none of +us--ever suffer the disgrace of being _fatis_!" + +"There's not much danger of that!" put in the Master. "That's a big +war-party, and we're drifting ashore almost exactly where they're +waiting. From the appearance of the group, they look like Beni Harb +people--'Sons of Fighting' you know--though I didn't expect we'd sight +any of that breed so far to westward." + +"Beni Harb, eh?" echoed the Frenchman, his face going grim. "Ah, +_mes amis_, it is with pleasure I see that race, again!" He sighted +carefully through his glass, as _Nissr_ sagged on and on, ever closer +to the waves, ever nearer the hard, sun-roasted shores of Africa. +"Yes, those are Beni Harb men. _Dieu_! May it be Sheik Abd el Rahman's +tribe! May I have strength to repay the debt I owe them!" + +"What debt, Lieutenant?" asked the chief. + +Leclair shrugged his shoulders. + +"A personal matter, my Captain! A personal debt I owe them--with +interest!" + +"You will have nearly a score and a half of good fighting men to help +you settle your account," smiled the Master. Then, to Bohannan: "It +looks now, Major, as if you'd have a chance to try your sovereign +remedy." + +"Faith! Machine-guns, eh?" + +"Yes, provided we get near enough to use them." + +"No vibrations this time, eh?" demanded the Celt, a bit of +good-humored malice in his voice. "Vibrations are all very well in +their way, sir, but when it comes to a man-to-man fight--" + +"It's not that, Major," the chief interrupted. "We haven't the +available power, now, for high-tension current. So we must fall back +on lesser means. + +"You, sir, and Lieutenant Leclair, get the six gun-crews together at +their stations. When we drift in range, give the Beni Harb a few trays +of blanks. That may scatter them without any further trouble. We want +peace, but if it's got to be war, very well. If they show real fight, +rake them hard!" + +"They will show fight, surely enough, mon capitaine," put in Leclair, +as he and the major made their way to the oddly tiptilted door leading +back into the main corridor. "I know these folk. No blank cartridges +will scatter that breed. Even the Turks are afraid of them. They have +a proverb: 'Feed the Beni Harb, and they will fire at Allah!' That +says it all. + +"Mohammed laid a special curse on them. I imagine your orderly, Rrisa, +will have something to say when he learns that we have Beni Harb as +opponents. Now, sir, we shall make all haste to get the machine-guns +into action!" + +Major Bohannan laughed with more enjoyment than he had shown since +_Nissr_ had left America. They both saluted and withdrew. When the +door was closed again, a little silence fell in the pilot-house, the +floor of which had now assumed an angle of nearly thirty degrees. +The droning of the helicopters, the drift of the sickly white smoke +that--rising from _Nissr's_ stern--wafted down-wind with her, the +drunken angle of her position all gave evidence of the serious +position in which the Flying Legion now found itself. Suddenly the +Master spoke. His dismissal of Bohannan and Leclair had given him the +opportunity he wanted. + +"Captain Alden," said he, bruskly, with the unwillingness of +a determined man forced to reverse a fixed decision. "I have +reconsidered my dictum regarding you." + +"Indeed, sir?" asked the woman, from where she stood leaning against +the sill of the slanted window. "You mean, sir, I am to stay with the +Legion, till the end?" + +"Yes. Your service in having shot down the stowaway renders it +imperative that I show you some human recognition. You gained +admission to this force by deception, and you broke parole and escaped +from the stateroom where I had imprisoned you. But, as you have +explained to me, you heard the explosion, you heard the outcry of +pursuit, and you acted for my welfare. + +"I can weigh relative values. I grant your request. The score is wiped +clean. You shall remain, on one condition." + +"And what is that, sir?" asked "Captain Alden," with a voice of +infinite relief. + +"That you still maintain the masculine disguise. The presence of a +woman, as such, in this Legion, would be a disturbing factor. You +accept my terms?" + +"Certainly! May I ask one other favor?" + +"What favor?" + +"Spare Kloof and Lombardo!" + +"Impossible!" + +"I know their guilt, sir. Through their carelessness in not having +discovered the stowaway and in having let him escape, the Legion came +near sudden death. I know _Nissr_ is a wreck, because of them. Still, +we need men, and those two are good fighters. Above all, we need +Lombardo, the doctor I ask you to spare them at least their lives!" + +"That is the woman's heart in you speaking, now," the chief answered, +coldly. His eyes were far ahead, where the war-party was beginning +to debouch on the white sands along the shore--full three hundred +fighting-men, or more, well armed, as the tiny sparkles of sunlight +flicking from weapons proved. As _Nissr_ drew in to land, the Beni +Harb grew visible to the naked eye, like a swarm of ants on the desert +rim. + +"The woman's heart," repeated the Master. "That is your only fault and +weakness, that you are a woman and that you forgive." + +"You grant my request?" + +"No, Captain. Nor can I even discuss it. Those two men have cut +themselves off from the Legion and signed their own death warrant. +The sentence I have decided on, must stand. Do not speak of this to me +again, madam! Now, kindly withdraw." + +"Yes, sir!" And Alden, saluting, approached the door. + +"One moment! Send Leclair back to me. Inform Ferrara that he is to +command the second gun-crew." + +"Yes, sir!" And the woman was gone. + +Leclair appeared, some moments later. He suspected nothing of the +subterfuge whereby the Master had obtained a few minutes' conversation +alone with "Captain Alden." + +"You sent for me, sir?" asked the Frenchman. + +"I did. I have some questions to ask you. Others can handle the guns, +but you have special knowledge of great importance to me. And first, +as an expert ace, what are our chances of making that shore, sir, now +probably five miles off? In a crisis, I always want to ask an expert's +opinion." + +Leclair peered from under knit brows at the altimeter needle and the +inclinometer. He leaned from the pilot-house window and looked down at +the waves, now hardly a hundred feet below, their foaming hiss quite +audible. From those waves, red light reflected as the sun sank, +illuminated the Frenchman's lean, brown features and flung up wavering +patches of illumination against the pilot-house ceiling of burnished +metal, through the tilted windows that sheerly overhung the water. + +"_Eh bien_--" murmured Leclair, noncommittally. + +"Well, can we make it, sir?" + +The ace inspected the vacuum-gauges, the helicopter tachometers, and +shrugged his shoulders. + +"'_Fais tout, toi-meme, et Dieu t'aidera_,'" he quoted the cynical old +French proverb. "If nothing gives way, there is a chance." + +"If we settle into the sea, do you think that with our damaged floats +we can drive ashore without breaking up?" + +"I do not, my Captain. There is a heavy sea running, and the surf is +bad on the beach. This Rio de Oro coast is cruel. Have you our exact +position?" + +"Almost exactly on the Tropic of Cancer, half-way between Cape Bojador +to north of us, and Cape Blanco, to south." + +"Yes, I understand. That brings us to the Tarmanant region of the +Sahara. Fate could not have chosen worse for us. But, _c'est la +guerre_. All I regret, however, is that in a crippled condition we +have to face a war-party of the Beni Harb. Were we intact, and a match +for them, how gladly would I welcome battle with that scum of Islam! +Ah, the _canaille_!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +SHIPWRECK AND WAR + +"You call them dogs, eh?" asked the chief. "And why?" + +"What else are such apostate fanatics? People who live by robbery and +plunder--people who, if they find no gold in your money-belt, will rip +your stomach open to see if you've swallowed it! People who boast +of being _harami_ (highwaymen), and who respect the _jallah_ +(slave-driver)! + +"People who practice the barbaric _thar_, or blood-feud! People who +torture their victims by cutting off the ends of their fingers before +beheading or crucifying them! People who glory in murdering the +'idolators of Feringistan,' as they call us white men! Let me advise +you now, my Captain, when dealing with these people or fighting them, +never use your last shot on them. Always keep a mercy-bullet in your +gun!" + +"A mercy-bullet?" + +"For yourself!" + +The Master pondered a moment or two, as _Nissr_ drifted on toward the +now densely massed Arabs on the beach, then he said: + +"You seem to know these folk well." + +"Only too well!" + +The Master's next words were in the language of the desert: + +"_Hadratak tet kal'm Arabi?_" (You speak Arabic?) + +"_Na'am et kal'm!_" affirmed the lieutenant, smiling. And in the same +tongue he continued, with fluent ease: "Indeed I do, _Effendi_. Yes, +yes, I learned it in Algiers and all the way south as far as the +headwaters of the Niger. + +"Five years I spent among the Arabs, doing air-work, surveying the +Sahara, locating oases, mapping what until then were absolutely +unknown stretches of territory. I did a bit of bombing, too, in the +campaign against Sheik Abd el Rahman, in 1913." + +"Yes, so I have heard. You almost lost your life, that time?" + +"Only by the thickness of a _semmah_ seed did I preserve it," answered +the Frenchman. "My mechanician, Lebon, and I--we fell among them on +account of engine trouble, near the oasis of Adrar, not far from here. +We had no machine-gun--nothing but revolvers. We stood them off for +seven hours, before they rushed us. They captured us only because our +last cartridges were gone." + +"You did not save the mercy-bullet that time, eh?" + +"I did not, _Effendi._ I did not know them then as I do now. They +knocked us both senseless, and then began hacking our machine to +pieces with their huge _balas_ (yataghans). They thought our plane was +some gigantic bird. + +"Superstition festers in their very bones! The giant bird, they +believed, would ruin their date crops; and, besides, they thirsted for +the blood of the Franks. As a matter of fact, my Captain, these people +do sometimes drink a little of the blood of a slaughtered enemy." + +"Impossible!" + +"True, I tell you! They destroyed our plane with fire and sword, +reviled us as pigs and brothers of pigs, and named poor Lebon 'kalb +ibn kalb,' or 'dog and son of a dog.' Then they separated into two +bands. One band departed toward Wady Tawarik, taking Lebon. They +informed me that on the morrow they would crucify him on a cross of +palm-wood, head downward." + +"And they executed Lebon?" + +Leclair shrugged his shoulders. + +"I suppose so," he answered with great bitterness. "I have never +seen or heard of him since. As for me, they reserved me for some +festivities at Makam Jibrail. During the next night, a column of +Spanish troops from Rio de Oro rushed their camp, killed sixty or +seventy of the brown demons, and rescued me. Since then I have lusted +revenge on the Beni Harb!" + +"No wonder," put in the chief, once more looking at the beach, where +now the war-party was plainly visible to the naked eye in some detail. +The waving of their arms could be distinguished; and plainly glittered +the blood-crimson sunset light on rifle-barrels, swords, and javelins. +The Master loosened his revolver in its holster. "About twenty minutes +from now, at this rate," he added, "some of the Beni Harb will have +reason to remember you." + +"Yes, and may Jehannum take them all!" exclaimed the Frenchman, +passionately. His eyes glowered with hate as he peered across the +narrowing strip of waves and surf. "Jehannum, where every time their +skins are burned off, as the Koran says, new ones will grow to be +burned off again! Where 'they shall have garments of fire fitted upon +them and boiling water poured upon their heads, and they shall be +beaten with maces of iron--" + +"And their tormentors shall say unto them: 'Taste ye the pain of +burning!'" the Master concluded the familiar quotation with a +smile. "Waste no time in wishing the Beni Harb future pain, my dear +Lieutenant. Jehannum may indeed reserve the fruit of the tree Al +Zakkum, for these dogs, but our work is to give them a foretaste of +it, today. Kismet seems to have willed it that you and the Beni Harb +shall meet again. Is it not a fortunate circumstance, for you?" + +"Fortunate, yes," the Frenchman answered, his eyes glowing as they +estimated the strength of the war-party, now densely massed along the +shining sands, "But, thank God, there are no women in this party! That +would mean that one of us would have to kill a woman--for God help +a woman of Feringistan caught by these _jinnee_, these devils of the +waste!" + +Silence again. Both men studied the Beni Harb. The Frenchman judged, +reverting to his native tongue: "Certainly more than three hundred +of these 'abusers of the salt,' my Captain. And we are hardly thirty. +Even if we reach land, we must soon sink to earth. Without food, +water, anything--_ce n'est pas gai, hein?_" + +"No, it is not gay," the chief answered. "But with machine-guns--" + +"Machine-guns cannot fight against the African sun, against famine, +thirst, delirium, madness. Well--'blessed be certainty,' as the Arabs +say." + +"You mean death?" + +"Yes, I mean death. We always have that in our grasp, at any +rate--after having taken full toll of these devils. I should not +mind, so much, defeat at the hands of the nobler breed of the Arabian +Peninsula. There, in the _Ruba el Khali_[1] itself, I know a chivalric +race dwells that any soldier might be proud to fight or to rule over. +But these Shiah heretic swine--ah, see now, they are taking cover +already? They will not stand and fight, like men!" + +[Footnote 1: _Ruba el Khali_ (The Empty Abodes), a name applied by +the Arabs to the Peninsula, especially the vast inner region never +penetrated by any white man.] + +Scornfully he flung a hand at the Beni Harb. The fringes of the +tribe were trickling up the sands, backward, away, toward the line +of purple-hazed dunes that lined the coast. More and more of the +war-party followed. Gradually all passed up the wady, over the dunes +and vanished. + +"They are going to ambush us, my Captain," said Leclair. "'In rice, +strength; in the Beni Harb, manhood!'" + +Nearer the land, ever sagging down but still afloat--though now at +times some of the heavier surges broke in foam over the rail of the +lower gallery--the Eagle of the Sky drifted on, on. Hardly a half-mile +now lay between air-liner and shore. Suddenly the Master began to +speak: + +"Listen, Lieutenant! Events are at a crisis, now. I will speak very +plainly. You know the Arabs, good and bad. You know Islam, and all +that the Mohammedan world is. You know there are more than 230,000,000 +people of this faith, scattered from Canton to Sierra Leone, and +from Cape Town to Tobolsk, all over Turkey, Africa, and Arabia--an +enormous, fanatic, fighting race! Probably, if trained, the finest +fighting-men in the world, for they fear neither pain nor' death. They +welcome both, if their hearts are enlisted!" + +"Yes, yes, I know! Their Hell yawns for cowards; their Paradise opens +to receive the brave! Death is as a bride to the Moslem!" + +"Fanatics all, Lieutenant! Only a few white men have ever reached +Mecca and returned. Bartema, Wild, and Joseph Pitt succeeded, and so +did Hurgronje, Courtelmont, Burton, and Burckhardt--though, the Arabs +admit only the two last. + +"But how many hundreds have been beheaded or crucified? No pilgrimage +ever takes place without a few such victims. A race of this type is a +potential world-power of incalculable magnitude. Men who will die for +Islam and for their master without a quiver--" + +"My Captain! What do you mean?" + +The lieutenant's eyes had begun to fill with flame. His hand tightened +to a fist. + +"_Mon Dieu_, what do you mean? Can it be possible you dream of ruling +the races of Islam?" + +Something whined overhead, from the beach now only about a +quarter-mile distant. Then a shot from behind the dunes cracked out +across the crumbling, hissing surf. + +"Ah," laughed Leclair, "the ball has opened, eh? Well this is now no +time for talk, for empty words. I think I understand you, my Captain; +and to the death I stand at your right hand!" + +Their palms met and clasped, a moment, in the firm grip of a compact +between two strong men, unafraid. Then each drew his pistol, crouching +there at the windows of the pilot-house. + +"Hear how that bullet sang?" questioned the Frenchman. "It was +notched--a notched slug, you understand. That is a familiar trick with +these dog-people of the Beni Harb. Sometimes, if they have poison, +they dip the notched slug in that too. And, ah, what a wound one +makes! Dum-dums are a joke beside such!" + +Another shot sounded. Many cracked out along the dune. All up and down +the crest of the tawny sand-hills, red under the sun now close to the +horizon, the fusillade ran and rippled. On _Nissr_, metal plates rang +with the impact of the slugs, or glass crashed. The gigantic Eagle of +the Sky, helpless, received this riddling volley as she sagged ashore, +now almost in the grip of the famished surf. + +"Yes, the ball is opening!" repeated Leclair, with an eager laugh. His +finger itched on the trigger of his weapon; but no target was visible. +Why waste ammunition on empty sand-dunes? + +"Let it open!" returned the chief. "We'll not refuse battle, no, by +Allah! Our first encounter with Islam shall not be a surrender! Even +if we could survive that, it would be fatal to this vast plan of +mine--of ours, Lieutenant. No, we will stand and fight--even till +'certainty,' if Allah wills it so!" + +A sudden burst of machine-gun fire, from the upper starboard gallery, +crashed out into the sultry, quivering air. The kick and recoil of the +powerful Lewis sent a fine, swift shudder through the fabric of the +wounded Eagle. + +"There goes a tray of blanks," said the Master. "Perhaps that will +rout them out, eh? Once we can get them on the run--" + +Leclair laughed scornfully. + +"Those dog-sons will not run from blanks, no, nor from shotted +charges!" he declared. "Pariahs in faith, despoilers of the Haram--the +sacred inner temple--still this breed of _Rafaz_ (heretic) is bold. +Ah, 'these dogs bare their teeth to fight more willingly than to eat.' +It will come to hot work soon, I think!" + +Keenly he scanned the dunes, eager for sight of a white _tarboosh_, +or headgear, at which to take a pot-shot. Nothing was visible but +sand--though here, there, a gleam of steel showed where the Arabs had +nested themselves down in the natural rampart with their long-barreled +rifles cuddled through carefully scooped rifts in the sand. + +Again the machine-gun chattered. Another joined it, but no dust-spurts +leaped from the dune, where now a continual play of fire was leaping +out. The Beni Harb, keenly intelligent, sensed either that they +were being fired at with blanks, or that the marksmanship aboard the +air-liner was execrable. A confused chorus of cries and jeers drifted +down from the sand-hills; and all at once a tall, gaunt figure in a +brown and white striped burnous, with the hood drawn up over the head, +leaped to sight. + +This figure brandished a tremendously long rifle in his left hand. His +right was thrust up, with four fingers extended--the sign of wishing +blindness to enemies. A splendid mark this Arab made. The Master drew +a fine bead on him and fired. + +Both he and Leclair laughed, as the Arab pitched forward in the sand. +Unseen hands dragged the warrior back, away, out of sight. A slug +crashed through the upper pane of the port window, flattened itself +against the main corridor door and dropped to the sofa-locker. + +The Master reached for the phone and switched in the connection with +the upper starboard gallery. + +"Major Bohannan!" he ordered. "No more blanks! The real thing, +now--but hold your fire till we drift over the dune!" + +"Drift over!" echoed Leclair. "But, _monsieur_, we'll never even make +the beach!" + +"So?" asked the chief. He switched to the engine-room. + +"Frazier! Lift her a little, now! Rack everything--strain +everything--break everything, if you must, but lift her!" + +"Yes, sir!" came the engineer's voice. "I'll scrap the engines, sir, +but I'll do that!" + +Almost as if a mocking echo of the command and the promise, a dull +concussion shuddered through _Nissr_. The drone of the helicopters +sank to a sullen murmur; and down below, waves began combing angrily +over the gallery. + +"Ah, _nom de Dieu_!" cried Leclair, in sudden rage at seeing his +chance all gone to pot, of coming to grips with the hated Beni Harb. +From the penetralia of the air-liner, confused shouts burst forth. The +upper galleries grew vocal with execrations. + +Not one was of fear; all voiced disappointment, the passion of baffled +fury. Angrily a boiler-shop clatter of machine-guns vomited useless +frenzy. + +Wearily, like a stricken bird that has been forced too long to wing +its broken way, the Eagle of the Sky--still two hundred yards from +shore--lagged down into the high-running surf. Down, in a murderous +hail of fire she sank, into the waves that beat on the stark, +sun-baked Sahara shore. + +And from hundreds of barbarous throats arose the killing-cry to +Allah--the battle-cry of Beni Harb, the murder-lusting Sons of War. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +BELEAGUERED + +"La Illaha illa Allah! M'hamed rasul Allah!" Raw, ragged, exultant, a +scream of passion, joy, and hate, it rose like the voice of the desert +itself, vibrant with wild fanaticism, pitiless and wild. + +The wolflike, high-pitched howl of the Arab outcasts--the robber-tribe +which all Islam believed guilty of having pillaged the Haram at Mecca +and which had for that crime been driven to the farthest westward +confines of Mohammedanism--this war-howl tore its defiance through the +wash and reflux of the surf. + +The pattering hail of slugs continued to zoon from the sand-hills, +bombarding the vast-spread wings and immense fuselage of Nissr. For +the most part, that bombardment was useless to the Beni Harb. A good +many holes, opened up in the planes, and some broken glass, were about +the Arabs' only reward. + +None of the bullets could penetrate the metal-work, unless making a +direct hit. Many glanced, spun ricochetting into the sea, and with a +venomous buzzing like huge, angry hornets, lost themselves in quick, +white spurts of foam. + +But one shot at least went home. Sheltered though the Legion was, +either inside the fuselage or in vantage-points at the gun-stations, +one incautious exposure timed itself to meet a notched slug. And a cry +of mortal agony rose for a moment on the heat-shimmering air--a cry +echoed with derision by fifteen score barbarians behind their natural +rampart. + +There was now no more shooting from the liner. What was there to shoot +at, but sand? The Arabs, warned by the death of the gaunt fellow in +the burnous, had doffed their headgear. Their brown heads, peeping +intermittently from the wady and the dunes, were evasive as a mirage. + +The Master laughed bitterly. + +"A devil of a place!" he exclaimed, his blood up for a fight, but all +circumstances baffling him. A very different man, this, from the calm, +impersonal victim of ennui at _Niss'rosh_, or even from the unmoved +individual when the liner had first swooped away from New York. His +eye was sparkling now, his face was pale and drawn with anger; and the +blood-soaked cotton and collodion gave a vivid touch of color to +the ensemble. That the Master had emotions, after all, was evident. +Obvious, too, was the fact these emotions were now fully aroused. +"What a devil of a place! No way to get at those dog-sons, and they +can lie there and wait for _Nissr_ to break up!" + +"Yes, my Captain, or else starve us where we lie!" the lieutenant put +in. "Or wait for thirst and fever to do the work. Then--rich plunder +for the sons of theft!" + +"Ah, Leclair, but we're not going to stay here, for any such +contingency!" exclaimed the chief, and turned toward the door. "Come, +_en avant_! Forward, Leclair!" + +"My Captain! You cannot charge an entrenched enemy like that, by +swimming a heavy surf, with nothing but revolvers in hand!" + +"Can't, eh? Why not?" + +"The rules of war--" + +"To Hell with the rules of war!" shouted the Master, for the first +time in years breaking into profanity. "Are you with me, or are you--" + +"Sir, do not say that word!" cried the Frenchman, reddening ominously. +"Not even from you can I accept it!" + +The Master laughed again, and strode out into the main corridor, with +Leclair close behind him. + +"Men!" he called, his voice blaring a trumpet-call to action. +"Volunteers for a shore-party to clean out that kennel of dogs!" + +None held back. All came crowding into the spacious corridor, its +floor now laterally level but sloping toward the stern, as _Nissr's_ +damaged aft-floats had filled and sunk. + +"Revolvers and lethal pistols!" he ordered. "And knives in belts! Come +on!" + +Up the ladder they swarmed to the take-off gallery. Their feet rang +and clattered on the metal rounds. Other than that, a, strange silence +filled the giant air-liner. The engines now lay dead. _Nissr_ was +motionless, save for the pitch and swing of the surf that tossed her; +but forward she could no longer go. + +As the men came up to the top gallery, the hands of the setting sun +reached out and seized them with red ardor. The radiance was half +blinding, from that sun and from light reflected by the heavily +running waves, all white-caps to shore. On both aileron-tips, the +machine-guns were spitting intermittently, worked by crews under the +major and Ferrara, the Italian ace. + +"Cease firing!" ordered the Master. "Simonds, you and Prisrend deal +out the lethal guns. Look alive, now!" + +Sheltering themselves from the patter of slugs behind stanchions and +bulwarks, the Legionaries waited. The sea wind struck them with hot +intensity; the sun, now almost down, flung its river of blood from +ship to horizon, all dancing in a shimmer of heat. + +By the way _Nissr_ was thumping her floats on the bottom, she seemed +about to break up. But, undismayed, the Legionaries armed themselves, +girt on their war-gear and, cool-disciplined under fire, waited the +order to leap into the sea. + +Not even the sight of a still body in the starboard gallery--a body +from under which a snaky red line was crawling, zigzagging with each +pitch of the liner--gave them any pause. This crew was well blooded, +ready for grim work of give-and-take. + +"A task for me, sir!" exclaimed "Captain Alden," pointing at the body. +The Master refused. + +"No time for nursing, now!" he negatived the plea. "Unless you choose +to remain behind?" + +"Never, sir!" + +"Can you swim with one arm?" + +"With both tied!" + +"Very well! All ready, men! Overboard, to the beach! There, dig in +for further orders. No individual action! No charge, without command! +Overboard--come on--who follows me?" + +He vaulted the rail, plunged in a white smother, surged up and struck +out for shore. Rrisa was not half a second behind him. Then came +all the others (save only that still figure on the buffed metals), a +deluge of leaping, diving men. + +The surf suddenly became full of heads and shoulders, vigorous arms, +fighting beachward. Strong swimmers every one, the Legion battled its +way ashore, out from under _Nissr's_ vast-spreading bulk, out from +under her forward floats. Not one Legionary but thrilled with the +killing-lust, the eager spur of vengeance for Kloof, first victim of +the Beni Harb's attack. + +Along the dune, perhaps five hundred yards back of the beach, very +many heads now appeared. The Arabs well knew themselves safe from +attack, so long as these hated white swine of _Ajam_[1] were in the +breakers. Golden opportunity to pick them off, at ease! + +[Footnote 1: Arabs divide the world into two categories; themselves, +and _Ajam_, or all non-Arabs.] + +A long, ragged line of desert men appeared, in burnouses and +_benishes_, or loose floating garments, and all heavily armed. The +last bleeding rays of the sunset flickered on the silver-mounted +rifles as they spat fire into the heat-quivering air. + +All about the swimmers, waterspouts jetted up. Two men grunted, +flailed wild arms and sank, with the water about them tinged red as +the sunset. Another sank face downward, a moment, then with only one +arm, continued to ply for land, leaving a crimson trail behind. + +None of the untouched Legionaries took any heed of this, or stopped +their furious swimming to see what damage had been done or to offer +help. Life was at stake. Every second in the breakers was big with +death. This was stern work, to be put through with speed. But the +faces of the swimming men grew hard to look upon. + +The Master and Leclair were first to touch foot to the shelving +bottom, all churned up by the long cavalry-charges of the sea-horses, +and to drag themselves out of the smother. Rrisa and Bohannan +came next, then Enemark, and then the others--all save Beziers and +Daimamoto, French ace and Japanese surgeon, whose work was forever +at an end. Enemark, engineer and scientist, shot through the left +shoulder, was dragged ashore, strangling, by eager hands. + +"Down! Down!" shouted the Master. "Dig in!" + +Right well he knew the futility, the suicidal folly of trying to +charge some three hundred entrenched men with a handful of panting, +exhausted soldiers armed only with revolvers. + +"Take cover!" his cry rang along the beach. They obeyed. Under a +galling fire that flung stinging sand into their faces and that took +toll of two more Legionaries, wounded, the expedition dug for its very +life. + +The best of strategy! The only strategy, the Master knew, as--panting +a little, with thick, black hair glued by sea-water to his head--he +flattened himself into a little depression in the sand, where the +first ripple of the dunes began. + +Hot was the sand, and dry. Withered camel-grass grew in dejected tufts +here, there, interspersed with a few straggles of half a. A jackal's +skull, bleached, lay close to the Master's right hand. Its polish +attested the care of others of its kind, of hyenas, and of vultures. +Just so would a human skull appear, in no long time, if left to +nature's tender ministrations. Out of an eyehole of the skull a dusty +gray scorpion half crawled, then retreated, tail over back, venomous, +deadly. + +Death lurked not alone in sea and in the rifles of the inhabitants of +this harsh land, but even in the crawling things underfoot. + +The Master paid no heed to shriveled grass, to skull, or scorpion. +All his thoughts were bent on the overcoming of that band of Islamic +outcasts now persistently pot-shotting away at the strange flying +men from unknown lands "that faced not Mecca nor kept Ramadan"--men +already hidden in swiftly scooped depressions, from which the sand +still kept flying up. + +"Steady, men!" the Master called. "Get your wind! Ready with the +lethal guns! Each gun, one capsule. Then we'll charge them! And--no +quarter!" + +Again, silence from the Legion. The fire from the dunes slackened. +These tactics seemed to have disconcerted the Beni Harb. They had +expected a wild, only half-organized rush up the sands, easily to be +wiped out by a volley or two from the terribly accurate, long-barreled +rifles. But this restraint, this business-like entrenching reminded +them only too forcibly of encounters with other men of the +Franks--the white-clad Spanish infantry from Rio de Oro, the dreaded +_piou-pious_, zouaves, and _Legion Etrangere_ of the French. + +Firing ceased, from the Beni Harb. Silence settled on both sides. From +the sea, the noise of waves breaking along the lower works of _Nissr_ +mingled with the hiss and refluent slither of the tumbling surf on the +gleaming beach. For a while peace seemed to have descended. + +A purple shade settled over the desert. The sun was nearly gone, +now, and dusk would not be long in closing its chalice down over the +light-wearied world. Leclair, entrenched beside the Master, whispered: + +"They do not understand, these dog-brothers--may Allah make their +faces cold!" He grinned, frankly, with sparkling eyes and white teeth. +"Already we have their beards in our hands!" + +The Master's only answer was to draw from his pocket an extra lethal +gun, hand it over and, in a whisper, hastily instruct the Frenchman +how to use it. Then he cried, loudly: + +"Ready, men! Fire!" + +All along the line, the faint, sighing hiss of the strange weapons +sounded. Over the top of the dune little, almost inaudible explosions +began taking place as--_plop! plop! plop!_--the capsules burst. Not +now could their pale virescence be seen; but the Master smiled again, +at realization that already the lethal gas was settling down upon the +horde of Shiah outcasts. + +To Leclair he whispered in Arabic an ancient saying of the desert +folk: "'Allah hath given skill to three things, the hands of the +Chinese, the brains of the Franks, the tongues of the Arabs!'" He +added: "When the gas strikes them, they would think the Frankish brain +more wonderful than ever--if they could think at all!" + +He slid his hand into the breast of his jacket, pulled a little cord +and drew out a silver whistle, the very same that he had used at +Gallipoli. As he slid it to his lips, they tautened. A flood of +memories surged over him. His fighting-blood was up, like that of +all the other Legionaries in that hasty trench-line along the white +sand-drifts. + +A moment's silence followed. Outwardly, all was peace. No sound but +the waves broke the African stillness. A little sand-grouse, known as +_kata_ by the Arabs, came whirring by. Far aloft, a falcon wheeled, +keen-eyed for prey. Once more the deadly scorpion peeped from the +skull, an ugly, sullen, envenomed thing. + +The Master held up the silver whistle, glinting in the last sun-glow. +They saw it, and understood. All hearts thrilled, tightening with +the familiar sense of discipline. Fists gripped revolver-butts; feet +shuffled into the sand, getting a hold for the quick, forward leap. + +Keenly trilled the whistle. A shout broke from some twenty-five +throats. The men leaped up, forward, slipping, staggering in the fine +sand, among the bunches of dried grass. But forward they drove, and +broke into a ragged, sliding charge up the breast of the dunes. + +"Hold your fire, men! Hold it--then give 'em Hell!" the Master +shouted. He was in the first wave of the assault. Close by came +Rrisa, his brown face contracted with fanatic hate of the Beni Harb, +despoilers of the Haram sanctuary. + +There, too, was "Captain Alden," grim with masked face. There was +Bohannan, Leclair--and pistol-barrels flickered in the evening glow, +and half the men gripped knives in their left hands, as well. For this +was to be a killing without quarter, to the very end. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +A MISSION OF DREAD + +Panting, with a slither of dry sand under their laboring feet, the +Legionaries charged. At any second, a raking volley might burst from +the dunes. The lethal pellets--so few in this vast space--might not +have taken effect. Not one heart there but was steeling itself against +ambush and a shriveling fire. + +Up they stormed. The Master's voice cried, once more: "Give 'em Hell!" + +He was the first man to top the dune, close to the wady's edge. There +he checked himself, revolver in mid-air, eyes wide with astonishment. +This way and that he peered, squinting with eyes that did not +understand. + +"_Nom de Dieu!_" ejaculated Leclair, at his side. + +"_Wallah_!" shouted Rrisa, furiously. "Oh, may Allah smite their +faces!" + +Each man, as he leaped to the rampart top, stood transfixed with +astonishment. Most of them cried out in their native tongues. + +Their amazement was well-grounded. Not an Arab was to be seen. Of all +those Beni Harb, none remained--not even the one shot by the Master. +The sand on the dune was cupped with innumerable prints of feet in +rude _babooshes_ (native shoes), and empty cartridges lay all about. +But not one of the Ahl Bayt, or People of the Black Tents, was +visible. + +"Sure, now, can you beat that?" shouted Bohannan, exultantly, and +waved his service cap. "Licked at the start! They quit cold!" + +Sheffield, at his side, dropped to the sand, his heart drilled by a +jagged slug. The explosion of that shot crackled in from another line +of dunes, off to eastward--a brown, burnt ridge, parched by the tropic +sun of ages. + +Sweating with the heat and the exertion of the charge, amazed at +having found--in place of windrows of sleeping men--an enemy still +distant and still as formidable as ever, the Legionaries for a moment +remained without thought or tactics. + +Rrisa, livid with fury and baffled hate, flung up wild arms and began +screaming the most extravagant insults at the still invisible nomads, +whose fire was now beginning again all along their line. + +"O rejected ones, and sons of the rejected!" the Arab howled. "O hogs +and brothers of hogs!" He fell to gnawing his own hand, as Arabs will +in an excess of passion. Once more he screamed: "O Allah, deny not +their skin and bones to the eternal flame! O owls, oxen, beggars, +cut-off ones! Oh, give them the burning oil, Allah! The cold faces! +Oh, wither their hands! Make them _kusah_! (beardless). Oh, these +swine with black livers, gray eyes, beards of red. Vilest that ever +hammered tent-pegs, goats of El Akhfash! O Beni Harb![1]" + +[Footnote 1: Beni Harb, or Sons of Battle, by a change in the +aspiration of the "H," becomes "Sons of Flight, or Cowardice."] + +The Master gripped his furious orderly, and pushed him back, down the +slope. + +"No more of that, Rrisa!" he commanded, fiercely. "These be old +woman's ways, these screamings! Silence, _Bismillah_!" + +He hailed the others. + +"They score, the first round! Their game is to retreat, if they're +suspicious of any ruse or any attack from us. They're not going +to stand and fight. We can't get near enough to them to throw the +remaining lethal capsules over. And we can't chase them into the +desert. Their plan is to hold us here, and pick us off one by +one--wipe us out, without losing a man! + +"Dig in again! That's our only game now. We're facing a situation +that's going to tax us to the utmost, but there's only one thing to +do--dig in!" + +Life itself lay in digging, death in exposure to the fire of +those maddeningly elusive, unseen Bedouins. Like so many dogs the +Legionaries once more fell to excavating, with their knives and their +bare hands, the sun-baked sand that slithered back again into their +shallow trench almost as fast as they could throw it out. + +A ragged fire from the Beni Harb lent speed to their efforts. Dead men +and wounded could now have no attention. Life itself was all at stake. + +In their rude trench they lay at last, sweating, panting, covered +with sand and dust, with thirst beginning to take hold on them, and +increasing swarms of flies--tiny, vicious, black things, all sting and +poison--beginning to hum about them. On watch they rested there, while +dull umbers of nightfall glowered through the framework of _Nissr_, +tossing in the surf. Without much plan, wrecked, confronted by what +seemed perils unsurmountable, the Flying Legion waited for the coming +of dark to respite them from sniping. + +The Master, half-way along the line with Leclair, Rrisa, the major and +"Captain Alden," mentally took stock of losses thus far sustained. The +wounded were: Alden, Bohannan (burned), Enemark and himself. The dead: +Kloof, Sheffield, Beziers, Travers, Gorlitz, Auchincloss, Daimamoto. + +Twenty-four living remained, including Leclair. The mortality, in +about eighteen hours, had been twenty percent. At this rate the Master +understood the Flying Legion was slated for very speedy destruction. + +"It's touch-and-go now," he pondered. "We've got to annihilate these +infernal Bedouins, repair the liner and get ahead, or--but there's no +'or' in this! None, at all!" + +As dark settled down over the Sahara, the leprous patches of white, +saline earth took on a ghostly pallor. The light of the southern stars +began to glow with soft radiance. A gigantic emptiness, a rolling +vacancy of sea and earth--brine-waves to rear of the Legion, +sand-waves ahead--shrank the party to seeming insignificance. + +A soft, purple tapestry of night unrolled across the desert; the wind +died, and the suffocating breath of overheated sands began to emanate +from the baked earth. And ever more and more pestiferously the +infernal torment of the flies increased. + +Inflamed with chagrin, rage, and grief for the lost comrades, the +Legionaries lay in waiting. No conversation ran along the line. +Silence held them--and their own thoughts. Wounds had been dressed as +well as they might be. Nothing remained but to await the Master's next +command. + +"Captain Alden's" suggestion that Kloof, still lying aboard in the +liner, should be seen to, met a rebuff from the Master. Living or +dead, one man could not now endanger the lives of any others. And that +danger still lay in any exposure was proved by the intermittent firing +from the Arab lines. + +The Beni Harb were obviously determined to hold back any possibility +of a charge, or any return to the protection of the giant flying-ship. +Bullets whimpered overhead, spudded into the sand, or pinged against +metal on the liner. Parthian fighters though these Beni Harb were, +they surely were well stocked with munitions and they meant stern +business. + +"And stern business is what they shall have, once the dark is +complete," the Master pondered. "It is annihilation for them or for +us. There can be no compromise, nor any terms but slaughter!" + +One circumstance was favorable--the falling of the wind. Had it risen, +kicking up a harsher surf, _Nissr_ must have begun to break. But as +the cupped hand of night, closing over the earth, had also shut away +the wind, the air-liner was now resting more easily. Surf still +foamed about her floats and lower gallery--surf all spangled with the +phosphorescence that the Arabs call "jewels of the deep"--but unless +some sudden squall should fling itself against the coast, every +probability favored the liner taking no further damage. + +In silence, save for the occasional easing of positions along the +trench, the Legionaries waited. Strange dim colors appeared along +the desert horizons, half visible in the gloom--funeral palls of dim +purple, with pale, ghostly reflections almost to mid-heaven. + +Some of the men had tobacco and matches that had escaped being wet; +and cigarettes were rolled, passed along, lighted behind protections +that would mask the match-gleam from the enemy. The comforting aroma +of smoke drifted out on the desert heat. As for the Master, from time +to time he slipped a khat leaf into his mouth, and remained gravely +pondering. + +At length his voice sounded along the trench. + +"Men of the Flying Legion," said he, "this situation is grave. We +can't escape on foot, north or south. We are without provisions or +water. The nearest white settlement is Rio de Oro, about a hundred +miles to southward; and even if we could reach that, harassed by the +Beni Harb, we might all be executed there, as pirates. We must go +forward or die right here on this beach. + +"In any kind of a straight fight, we are hopelessly out-classed. There +are about three hundred men against twenty-four of us, some of whom +are wounded. Even if we took life for life, the Bedouins would lose +less than ten percent, and we'd be wiped out. And we couldn't expect +to take life for life, charging a position like theirs in the +night. It can't be a stand-up battle. It's got to be science against +savagery, or nothing." + +A murmur of approval trickled along the sands. Confidence was +returning. The Legionaries' hearts tautened again with faith in this +strange, this usually silent and emotionless man whose very name was +unknown to almost all of them. + +"Just one other word," the Master continued, his voice calm, unshaken, +quite impersonal. "If science fails, do not allow yourselves to be +captured. The tortures of Hell await any white man taken by these +fanatics. Remember, always keep one mercy-bullet--for yourselves!" + +Another little silence. Then the chief said: + +"I am going to take two men and undertake what seems a preposterous +attack. I need only two. I shall not call for volunteers, because you +would all offer yourselves. You must stay here." + +"In case my plan succeeds, you are to come at my call--three long +hails. If my plan fails, Major Bohannan will command you; and I know +you will all fight to the last breath and to the final drop of blood!" + +"Don't do this thing, sir!" the major protested. "What chance of +success has it? These desert men can see, where a white man is blind. +They can scent danger as a hunting-dog scents the spoor of game. +You're simply throwing your life away, and we need that life!" + +"I will take Lieutenant Leclair, who knows these people," the Master +continued, paying no heed, "and Rrisa, who is of their kin. You +others, all sit tight!" + +A chuckling laugh, out there on the vague sands, seemed to mock him. +It burst into a raw, barking cachinnation, that somehow stirred the +blood with shrinking horror. + +"One of the Sahara Sanitary Corps," remarked Leclair, dryly. "A hyena. +Well may he laugh! Feasting enough for him and his before this dance +is over!" + +A gleam of fire, off to the left where the farther dunes approached +the sea, suddenly began to show. All eyes turned toward it. The little +fire soon grew into a leaping flame, its base hidden by sand-mounds. + +No Arabs were visible there, but they had surely lighted it, using +driftwood from the beach. Up into the purple-velvet night whirled +sparks and fire-tongues; red smoke spiraled on the vagrant desert +breeze. + +"A signal-fire, Master!" whispered Rrisa. "It will be seen in far +oases. If it burn two hours, that will mean an enemy with great +plunder. Others of the Beni Harb will come; there will be gathering of +the tribes. That fire must not burn, _M'alme!_" + +"Nor must the Beni Harb live!" To the major: "Collect a dozen lethal +guns and bring them to me!" + +When the guns were at hand, the Master apportioned them between +Leclair, Rrisa, and himself. With the one apiece they already had, +each man carried five of the guns, in pockets and in belt. The small +remaining stock of lethal pellets were distributed and the weapons +fully loaded. + +"In three minutes, Major," said the Master, "we leave these lines. +Ten minutes after that, open a scattering fire, all along the trench. +Shoot high, so as to be sure we are not hit." + +"Ah, a barrage, sir?" the major exclaimed. + +"Not in the least. My purpose is quite different. Never mind, but +listen to my orders. Keep up that fire sparingly, for five minutes. +Then cease. And keep silent till we return. + +"Remember, I will give three long hails when we start to come back. +Those will warn you not to shoot if you see dim figures in the night. +Either we shall be back in these lines by nine o'clock, or--" + +"Or we will go after you!" came the voice of "Captain Alden," with +a little catch of anxiety not at all masculine. Something in the +femininity of her promise stirred the Master's heart a second, but he +dismissed it. + +"Either we shall return by nine, or never," he said calmly. + +"Let me go, then!" whispered Alden. "Go, in place of you! You are more +needed than I. Without you all these men are lost. Without me--they +would not miss me, sir!" + +"I cannot argue that point with you, Captain. We start at once." He +turned to Rrisa, and in Arabic said: + +"The road we are about to take may lead thee to Paradise. A +sand-adder, a scorpion, or a bullet may be the means. Dost thou stand +firm with me?" + +The Arab stretched out a thin, brown hand to him in the dark. + +"Firm as my faith, Master!" he replied. "Both to help you, and to +destroy the _beni kalb_ (dog-sons), I would pass through Al Araf, into +Eblis! What will be, must be. No man dieth except by permission of +Allah, according to what is written on the scrolls of the angel, Al +Sijil. + +"I go with you, Master, where you go, were it to Jehannum! I swear +that by the rising of the stars, which is a mighty oath. _Tawakkal al +Allah!_" (Place reliance on Allah!) + +"By the rising of the stars!" repeated Leclair, also in Arabic. "I too +am with you to the end, _M'alme!_" + +The Master assured himself that his night-glasses with the megaphotic +reflectors were in their case slung over his shoulder. He looked once +more to his weapons, both ordinary and lethal, and likewise murmured: + +"By the rising of the stars!" + +Then said he crisply, while the fire-glow of Leclair's strongly +inhaled cigarette threw a dim light on the tense lines of his wounded +face: + +"Come! Let us go!" + +Leclair buried his cigarette in the warm earth. + +Rrisa caught up a handful of sand and flung it toward the unseen +enemy, in memory of the decisive pebbles thrown by Mohammed at the +Battle of Bedr, so great a victory for him. + +Then he followed the Master and Leclair, with a whispered: + +"_Bismillah wa Allahu akbar_![1]" + +[Footnote 1: In the name of Allah, and Allah is greatest!] + +Together, crawling on their bellies like dusty puff-adders of the +Sahara itself, the three companions in arms--American, French, +Arab--slid out of the shallow trench, and in the gloom were lost to +sight of the beleaguered Flying Legion. + +Their mission of death, death to the Beni Harb or to themselves, had +begun. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +ANGELS OF DEATH + +In utter silence, moving only a foot at a time, the trio of +man-hunters advanced. They spaced themselves out, dragged themselves +forward one at a time, took advantage of every slightest depression, +every wrinkle in the sandy desert-floor, every mummy-like acacia and +withered tamarisk-bush, some sparse growth of which began to mingle +with the halfa-grass as they passed from the coast-dunes to the desert +itself. + +Breathing only through open mouths, for greater stillness, taking care +to crackle no twig nor even slide loose sand, they labored on, under +the pale-hazed starlight. Their goal was vague. Just where they +should come upon the Beni Harb, in that confused jumble of dunes and +_nullahs_ (ravines) they could not tell; nor yet did they know the +exact distance separating the Legion's trenches from the enemy. All +was vague mystery--a mystery ready at any second, at any slightest +alarm, to blaze out death upon them. + +None the less, stout-hearted and firm of purpose, they serpented their +painful way prone on the hot, dusty bosom of the Sahara. Fate for them +and for all the Legion, lay on so slight a thing as the stirring of +a twig, the _tunk_ of a boot against a bleached camel's skull, the +possibility of a sneeze or cough. + +Even the chance scaring-up of a hyena or a vagrant jackal might betray +them. Every breath, every heartbeat was pregnant with contingencies of +life and death. + +Groveling, they slipped forward, dim, moving shadows in a world of +brown obscurity. At any moment, one might lay a hand on a sleeping +puff-adder or a scorpion. But even that had been fore-reckoned. All +three of them had thought of such contingencies and weighed them. +Not one but had determined to suppress any possible outcry, if thus +stricken, and to die in absolute silence. + +What mattered death for one, if two should win to the close range +necessary for discharging the lethal capsules? What mattered it even +for two, if one should succeed? The survivors, or the sole survivor, +would simply take the weapons from the stricken and proceed. + +After what seemed more than an hour, though in fact it was but the ten +minutes agreed on with Bohannan, off behind them toward the coast a +sudden staccato popping of revolvers began to puncture the night. Up +and down the Legionaries' trench it pattered, desultory, aimless. + +The three men engaged in the perilous task of what the Arabs call +_asar_, or enemy-tracking, lay prone, with bullets keening high +overhead. As the Master looked back, he could see the little spurts of +fire from that fusillade. + +The firing came from more to the left than the Master had reckoned, +showing him that he had got a little off his bearings. But now he took +his course again, as he had intended to do from the Legion's fire; and +presently rifle work from the Arabs, too, verified, his direction. + +The Master smiled. Leclair fingered the butt of his revolver. + +Rrisa whispered curses: + +"Ah, dog-sons, may you suffer the extreme cold of El Zamharir! Ah, may +_Rih al Asfar_, the yellow wind (cholera), carry you all away!" + +The racket of aimless firing continued a few minutes, underneath the +mild effulgence of the stars. It ceased, from the Legion's trenches at +the agreed moment; and soon it died down, also from the Arabs'. Quiet +rose again from the desert, broken only by the surf-wash on the +sand, the far, tremulous wail of a jackal, the little dry skitter of +scorpions. + +The three scouts lay quiet for ten minutes after the volleying had +ceased. Silence settled over the plain; but, presently, a low moaning +sound came indistinctly from the east. It lasted only a moment, then +died away; and almost at once, the slight wind that had been blowing +from the sea hushed itself to a strange calm. + +Rrisa gave anxious ear. His face grew tense, but he held his peace. +Neither of the white men paid any heed to the slight phenomenon. To +them it meant nothing. For all their experience with the desert, they +had never happened to hear just that thing. The Arab, however, felt a +stab of profound anxiety. His lips moved in a silent prayer to Allah. + +Once more the Master raised his hand in signal of advance. The three +man-stalkers wormed forward again. They now had their direction, +also their distance, with extreme precision; a simple process of +triangulation, in which the glow of the beach-fire had its share, gave +them the necessary data. + +Undaunted, they approached the camp of the Beni Harb; though every +moment they expected to be challenged, to hear the crack of an +alarm-rifle or a cry to Allah, followed by a deadly blast of slugs. + +But fortune's scale-pan dipped in their direction, and all held still. +The sun-baked desert kept their secret. Onward they crawled, now over +sand, now over cracked mud-flakes of saline deposit where water had +dried at the bottom of a _ghadir_. All was calm as if the spirit of +rest were hovering over the hot, fevered earth, still quivering from +the kiss of its great enemy, the sun. + +"Peace, it is peace until the rising of the morn!" a thought came to +the Master's mind, a line from the chapter Al Kadr, in the Koran. He +smiled to himself. "False peace," he reflected. "The calm before the +storm!" Prophetic thought, though not as he intended it! + +On and on the trio labored, soundlessly. At last the chief stopped, +held up his hand a second, lay still. The others glimpsed him by the +starlight, nested down in a shallow depression of the sand. They crept +close to him. + +"Lieutenant," he whispered, "you bombard the left-hand sector, toward +the fire and the sea. Rrisa, take the right-hand one. The middle is +for me. Fire at will!" + +Out from belts and pockets came the lethal pistols. With +well-estimated elevation, the attackers sighted, each covering his +own sector. Hissing with hardly audible sighs, the weapons fired their +stange pellets, and once again as over the woods on the Englewood +Palisades--really less than twenty-four hours ago, though it seemed +a month--the little greenish vapor-wisps floated down, down, sinking +gently on the Sahara air. + +This attack, they knew, must be decisive or all would be hopeless. The +last supply of capsules was now being exhausted. Everything had been +staked on one supreme effort. Quickly the attackers discharged their +weapons; then, having done all that could be done, lay prone and +waited. + +Once again that hollow moaning sound drifted in across the baked +expanse of the Sahara--a strange, empty sound, unreal and ominous. +Then came a stir of sultry breeze, from the east. It strengthened; +and a fine, crepitant sliding of sand-particles became audible. Rrisa +stirred uneasily. + +"Master," he whispered, "we should not delay. If the _jinnee_ of the +waste overtake us, we may be lost." + +"The _jinnee_ of the waste?" the Master answered, in a low tone. "What +nonsense is this?" + +"The simoom, Master--the storm of sand. We call it the work of evil +spirits!" + +The Master made no reply, save to command silence. + +For a time nothing happened in the Arabs' camp. Then came a little +stir, off there in the gloom. A sound of voices grew audible. The name +of Allah drifted out of the all-enveloping night, to them, and that of +his Prophet. A cry: "_Ya Abd el Kadir_--" calling on a patron saint, +died before the last word, "_Jilani_," could find utterance. Then +silence, complete and leaden, fell with uncanny suddenness. + +The Master laughed, dryly. He touched Leclair's arm. + +"Strong medicine for the Beni Harb, Lieutenant," said he. "Their own +_imams_ (priests) have strong medicine, too, but not so strong as that +of the cursed sons of Feringistan. Sleep already lies heavy on the +eyelids of these sons of Allah. And a deeper sleep shall soon overcome +them. Tell me, Lieutenant, can you kill men wholesale?" + +"Yes, my Captain." + +"Sleeping men, who cannot resist you? Can you kill them +scientifically, in masses, without anger?" + +"How do you know now, my Captain, that it will not be in anger?" +And the Frenchman half eased himself up on hands and knees, peering +forward into the night. "After what these Beni Harb--or their close +kin--have done to me and to poor Lebon--listen! What was that?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"That far, roaring noise?" + +"It is nothing! A little wind, maybe; but it is nothing, nothing! +Come, I am ready for the work!" + +The Master stood up. Rrisa followed suit. No longer crawling, but +walking erect, they advanced. They still used caution, careful to make +no noise; but confidence had entered into them. Were not the Arabs all +asleep? + +The white men's faces were pale and drawn, with grim determination for +the task that lay ahead--the task of converting the Beni Harb's camp +into a shambles. The Arab's face, with white-rimmed eyes and with +lips drawn back from teeth, had become that of a wild animal. Rrisa's +nostrils were dilated, to scent out the enemy. He was breathing hard, +as if he had run a mile. + +"They are near, now, _Ya M'alme!_" said he. "They are close at hand, +these _nakhawilah_! (pariahs). Allah, the high, the great, hath +delivered them into our hands. Verily there is no power or might but +Allah. Shall I scout ahead, Master, and spy out the camp?" + +"No, Rrisa. I send no man where I will not gladly go myself. All three +of us, forward!" + +Again they advanced, watchful, revolvers in hands, ready for any +sudden ambush. All at once, as they came up over a breastwork of hard +clay and gravel that heaved itself into rolling sands, the camp of the +Beni Harb became visible. Dim, brown and white figures were lying all +about, distorted in strange attitudes, on the sand beyond the ridge. +There lay the despoilers of the Haram, the robber-tribe of Sheik Abd +el Rahman, helpless in blank unconsciousness. + +The Master laughed bitterly, as he strode forward into the camp, the +long lines of which stretched vaguely away toward the coast where the +fire was still leaping up against the stars, now paled with a strange +haze. + +Starlight showed weapons lying all about--long rifles and primitive +flint-locks; _kanat_ spears of Indian male-bamboo tipped with steel +and decorated with tufts of black ostrich-feathers; and _jambiyehs_, +or crooked daggers, with wicked points and edges. + +"Save your fire, men," said the Master picking up a spear. "There +are plenty of means, here, to give these dogs the last sleep, without +wasting good ammunition. Choose the weapon you can handle best, and +fall to work!" + +With a curse on the heretic Beni Harb, and a murmur of thanks to Allah +for this wondrous hour, Rrisa caught up a short javelin, of the kind +called _mirzak_. The lieutenant chose a wide-bladed sword. + +"Remember only one thing, my brothers in arms!" exclaimed the Master. +"But that is most vital!" He spoke in Arabic. + +"And what may it be?" asked the Frenchman, in the same tongue. + +"I do not know whether old Sheik Abd el Rahman is with this party or +not, but if either of you find him, kill him not! Deliver him to me!" + +"Listen, Master!" exclaimed Rrisa, and thrust the point of his javelin +deep into the sand. + +"Well, what now, Rrisa?" + +"Shall we, after all, kill these sleeping swine-brothers?" + +"Eh, what? Thy heart then, hath turned to water? Thou canst not kill? +They attacked us--this is justice!" + +"And if they live, they will surely wipe us out!" put in the +Frenchman, staring in the gloom. "What meaneth this old woman's +babble, son of the Prophet?" + +"It is not that my heart hath turned to water, nor have the fountains +of mine eyes been opened to pity," answered Rrisa. "But some things +are worse than death, to all of Arab blood. To be despoiled of arms +or of horses, without a fight, makes an Arab as the worm of the earth. +Then he becometh an outcast, indeed! 'If you would rule, disarm'," he +quoted the old proverb, and added another: "'Man unarmed in the desert +is like a bird shorn of wings.'" + +"What is thy plain meaning in all this?" demanded the chief. + +"Listen, _M'alme_. If you would be the Sheik of Sheiks, carry away +all these weapons, and let these swine awaken without them. They would +drag their way back to the oases and the black tents, with a story +the like of which hath never been told in the Empty Abodes. The Sahara +would do homage, Master, even as if the Prophet had returned!" + +"_Lah_! I am not thinking of the Sahara. The goal lies far beyond--far +to eastward." + +"Still, the folk are Arabs there, too. They would hear of this, and +bow to you, my _M'alme_!" + +"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I can take no chances, Rrisa. The land, here +and to the eastward, might all arise against us. The tribes might come +against us like the _rakham_, the carrion-vultures. No, we must kill +and kill, so that no man remaineth here--none save old Abd el Rahman, +if Allah deliver him into our hands!" + +"That is your firm command, Master?" + +"My firm command!" + +"To hear the Master is to obey. But first, grant me time for my +_isha_, my evening prayer!" + +"It is granted. And, Rrisa, _there_ is the _kiblah_, the direction of +Mecca!" + +The Master pointed exactly east. Rrisa faced that way, knelt, +prostrated himself. He made ablution with sand, as Mohammed allows +when water cannot be found. Even as he poured it down his face, the +strangely gusting wind flicked it away in little whirls. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +THE GREAT PEARL STAB + +The Master began to feel a peculiar anxiety. Into the east he peered, +where now indeed a low, steady hum was growing audible, as of a +million angry spirits swarming nearer. The stars along that horizon +had been blotted out, and something like a dark blanket seemed to be +drawing itself across the sky. + +"My Captain," said the lieutenant, "there may be trouble brewing, +close at hand. A sand-storm, unprotected as we are--" + +"Men with stern work to do cannot have time to fear the future!" + +Leclair grew silent. Rrisa alone was speaking, now. With a call of +"_Ya Latif!_" (O Merciful One!) he had begun the performance of his +ceremony, with rigid exactness. He ended with another prostration and +the usual drawing down of the hands over the face. Then he arose, took +up his javelin again, and with a clear conscience--since now his rites +had all been fulfilled--cried aloud: + +"Now, Master, I am ready for the work of helping Azrael, the +death-angel, separate the souls and bodies of these Shiah heretics!" + +A sudden howling of a jackal startled Rrisa. He quivered and +stood peering into the night, where now the unmistakable hum of +an approaching sand-storm was drawing near. His superstitious soul +trembled with the old belief of his people that creatures of the +dog breed can see Azrael, invisible to human eyes. At thought of +the death-angel standing nigh, his heart quaked; but rage and hate +inspired him, and he muttered: + +"Fire to your bellies, broiling in white flame! Fuel of Jehannum, may +Eblis be your bed, an unhappy couch! Spawn of Shaytan (Satan), boiling +water to cool your throats! At Al Hakkat (judgment day) may the +_jinnee_ fly away with you!" + +"To work, men!" cried the Master. "There is great work to do!" + +As if in answer to his command, a blustering, hot buffet of wind +roared down with amazing suddenness, filling the dark air with a +stinging drive of sand. The fire by the beach flailed into long +tongues of flame, throwing black shadows along the side of the wady. +No stars were now visible. From empty spaces, a soughing tumult leaped +forth; and on the instant a furious gust of fine, cutting particles +whirled all about, thicker than driven snow in a northern blizzard. + +"Iron, O thou ill-omened one!" cried Rrisa, with the ancient +invocation against the sand-storm. He stretched out his forefinger, +making the sign of protection. Neither the meaning of his cry nor +of the gesture could he have explained; but both came to him +involuntarily, from the remote lore of his people. + +He turned from the oncoming storm, leaning against the wind, clutching +for his cap that the wind-devil had just whirled away. After it he +stumbled; and, falling to his knees, groped for it in the gloom. + +"Thousand devils!" ejaculated the Frenchman. "No time, now, for +killing! Lucky if we get back ourselves, alive, to the beach! My +Captain!" + +"What now?" the Master flung at him, shielding mouth and eyes with +cupped hands. + +"To the wady, all of us! That may give protection till this blast of +Hell passes!" + +A startled cry from Rrisa forestalled any answer. The Arab's voice +rose in a wild hail from the sand-filled dark: + +"O _M'alme_, _M'alme!_" + +"What, Rrisa?" + +"Behold! I--_I have found him!_" + +"Found--?" shouted the Master, plunging forward. + +Leclair followed close, staggering in the sudden gale. "_Abd el +Rahman?_" + +"The old hyena, surely! _M'alme, M'alme! See!_" + +The white men stumbled with broken ejaculations to where Rrisa was +crouched over a gaunt figure in the drifting sand. + +"Is that he, Rrisa?" cried the Master. "Art thou sure?" + +"As that my mother bore me! See the old jackal, the son of Hareth! +(the devil). Ah, see, see!" + +"_Dieu_!" exclaimed the Frenchman, in his own tongue. "It is none +other!" With a hand of great rejoicing, he stirred the unconscious +Sheik--over whom the sand was already sifting as the now ravening +simoom lashed it along. + +Forgotten now were all his fears of death in the sand-storm. This +delivery of the hated one into his hands had filled him with a savage +joy, as it had the two others. + +"Ah, _mon vieux!_" he cried. "It is only the mountains that never +meet, in time!" + +The Master laughed, one of those rare flashes of merriment that +at infrequent intervals pierced his austerity. Away on the growing +sand-storm the wind whipped that laugh. Simoom and sand now appeared +forgotten by the trio. Keen excitement had gripped them; it held them +as they crouched above the Sheik. + +"Allah is being good to us!" exulted the Master, peering by the +gale-driven fire-glare. "This capture is worth more to the Legion than +a hundred machine-guns. What will not the orthodox tribes give for +this arch-Shiah, this despoiler of the sacred Haram at Mecca?" + +He began feeling in the bosom of the old man, opening the cloaklike +burnous and exploring the neck and chest with eager fingers. + +"If we could only lay hands on the fabled loot of the Haram!" he +whispered, his voice tense with excitement. + +Rrisa, wide-eyed, with curling lips of scorn, peered down at the +Sheik. The orderly, bare-headed, was shielding eyes and face from the +sand-blast, with hands that trembled. His teeth were bared with hate +as he peered at the prostrate heretic. + +A tall, powerful figure of a man the Sheik was, lying there on his +right side with his robe crumpled under him--the robe now flapping, +whipping its loose ends in the high and rising wind. His _tarboosh_ +had been blown away, disclosing white hair. + +That hair, too, writhed and flailed in the gusts that drove it full +of sand, that drifted his whole body with the fine and stinging +particles. His beard, full and white, did not entirely conceal the +three parallel scars on each cheek, the _mashali_, which marked him as +originally a dweller at Mecca. + +One sinewy brown arm was outflung, now almost wholly buried in the +growing sand-drift. The hand still gripped a long, gleaming rifle, +its stock and barrel elaborately arabesqued in silver picked out with +gold. + +"Ah!" exclaimed the Master again, pulling at a thin crimson cord his +questing fingers had discovered about the old man's neck. With hands +that trembled a little, he drew out this cord. Then he uttered an +exclamation of intense disappointment. + +There was nothing at the end of the crimson loop, save a _lamail_, or +pocket Koran. Leclair muttered a curse, and moved away, peering +toward the fire, spying out the wady through the now almost choking +sand-drive--the wady where they certainly must soon take refuge or be +overwhelmed by the buffeting lash of sand whirled on the breath of the +shouting tempest. + +Even in the Master's anger, he did not throw the Koran away. Too +astute, he, for any such act in presence of Rrisa. Instead, he bound +the Arab to fresh devotion by touching lips and forehead, and by +handing him the little volume. The Master's arm had to push its way +against the wind as against a solid thing; and the billion rushing +spicules of sand that swooped in upon him from the desert emptiness, +stung his flesh like tiny scourges. + +"This Koran, Rrisa, is now thine!" he cried in a loud voice, to make +the Arab hear him. "And a great gift to thee, a Sunnite, is the Koran, +of this desecrating son of the rejected!" + +Bowed before the flail of the sand--while Rrisa uttered broken words +of thanks--the Master called to Leclair: + +"By _Corsi_ (Allah's throne), now things assume a different aspect! +This old dog of dogs is a prize, indeed! And--what now--" + +Leclair did not answer. The Frenchman was not even near him. The +Master saw him in the wady, dimly visible through the ghostly white +sand-shrouds spinning in the blue-whipped fire-glare. There on hands +and knees the lieutenant was huddled. With eager hands he was tearing +the hood of a _za'abut_--a rough, woolen slave cloak, patched and +ragged--from the face of a prostrate figure more than half snowed +under a sand-drift. + +"_Nom de Dieu!_" the Master heard him cry. "_Mais, nom de_--" + +"What have you found, Lieutenant?" shouted the Master, letting the +simoom drive him toward the wady. In their excitement none of the men +would yet take cover, lie down and hide their faces under their coats +as every dictate of prudence would have bidden. "Who is it, now? +What--" + +"Ah, my Captain! Ah! the pity of it! Behold!" + +The Frenchman's voice, wind-gusted, trembled with grief and passionate +anger; yet through that rage and sorrow rang a note of joy. + +"Tell me, Leclair! Who, now?" demanded the Master, as he came close +and peered down by the fire-gleam roaring on the beach, sending +sheaves of sparks in comet-tails of vanishing radiance down-wind with +rushing sand. + +"It is impossible, my Captain," the lieutenant answered in French. His +voice could now make itself heard more clearly; for here in the wady +a certain shelter existed from the roaring sand-cyclone. "Impossible, +but--_Dieu_!--it is true!" + +"What is true?" + +"Incredible, yet--_voila_!" + +"In Allah's name, Lieutenant!" the Master ejaculated, "compose +yourself! Explain! Who is this Arab, here?" + +"No Arab, sir! No, no!" + +"Not an Arab? Well, what is he, then?" + +"Ah, these scars, my Captain! Behold--see the slave dress, the weals +of the branding-iron on cheek and brow! Ah, for pity! See the starved +body, the stripes of the lash, the feet mangled by the bastinado! What +horrible things they have done to him--ah, God have pity on us!" + +Tears gleamed on the stern fighter's cheeks, there in the ghostly blue +firelight--tears that washed little courses through the dust and sand +now griming his face. The French airman, hard in battle and with heart +of steel and flame, was crying like a child. + +"What now? Who is it?" shouted the Master. "A European?" + +"Yes, my Captain! A Frenchman!" + +"A Frenchman. You don't mean to say it--is--" + +"Yes, yes! My orderly! Lebon!" + +"God!" exclaimed the Master. "But--" + +A cry from Rrisa interrupted him, a cry that flared down-wind with +strange, wild exultation. The Arab had just risen from the sand, near +the unconscious, in-drifting form of the Sheik, Abd el Rahman. + +In his hands he was holding something--holding a leather sack with a +broken cord attached to it. This cord in some way had been severed by +the Sheik's rifle when the old man had fallen. The leather sack had +rolled a few feet away. Now, with hands that shook so that the Arab +could hardly control them, Rrisa was holding out this sack as he +staggered through the blinding sand-storm towards his chief. + +"_Al Hamdu Lillah!_" (Praise to the Lord of the Three Worlds!) choked +Rrisa in a strange voice, fighting for his very breath. "See--see what +I--have found!" + +Staring, blinking, trying to shelter his eyes against the demons of +the storm, the Master turned toward him. + +"What, Rrisa?" + +Down into the wady stumbled the Arab, gray-powdered with clinging +sand. + +"Oh," he choked, "it has been taken from these _yezid_, these abusers +of the salt! Now we rescue it from these cut-off ones! From the swine +and brothers of the swine it has been taken by Allah, and put back +into the hands of Rrisa, Allah's slave! See, _M'alme_, see!" + +The shaking hands extended the leather sack. At it the Master stared, +his face going dead white. + +"Thou--dost not mean--?" he stammered. + +"Truly, I do!" + +"Not Kaukab el Durri?" + +"Aye--it was lying near that heretic dog!" + +"The Great Pearl Star, the sacred loot from the Haram?" + +"Kaukab el Durri, _M'alme_. The Great Pearl Star itself!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +THE SAND-DEVILS + +With hands that quivered in unison with his nerves, now no longer +impassive, the strange chief of this still stranger expedition took +from Rrisa the leather sack. Over the top of the wady a million +sand-devils were screeching. The slither of the dry snow--the white, +fine snow of sand--filled all space with a whispering rustle that +could be heard through the shouting of the simoom. + +Sand was beating on them, everywhere, in the darkness lighted only by +the tortured beach-fire. The stinging particles assailed eyes, ears, +mouth; it whitened clothing, sifted into hair, choked breath. But +still the Legionaries could not take shelter under their coats. In +this moment of wondrous finding, they must see the gem of gems that +Kismet had thus flung into their grasp. + +The Master loosed a knot in the cord, drew the sack open and shook +into his left palm a thing of marvellous beauty and wonder. + +By the dim, fitful gleam of the fire, probably the strangest and most +costly necklace in the world became indistinctly visible. At sight of +it, everything else was forgotten--the wrecked air-liner, the waiting +Legion, the unconscious Arabs now being buried in the resistless +charge of the sand-armies. Even poor Lebon, tortured slave of the Beni +Harb, a lay neglected. For nothing save the wondrous Great Pearl Star +could these three adventurers find any gaze whatever, or any thoughts. + +While Leclair and Rrisa stared with widening eyes, the Master, tense +with joy, held up their treasure-trove. + +"The Great Pearl Star!" he cried, in a strange voice. + +"Kaukab el Durri! See, one pearl is missing--that is the one said to +have been sold in Cairo, twelve years ago, for fifty-five thousand +pounds! But these are finer! And its value as a holy relic of +Islam--who can calculate that? God, what this means to us!" + +Words will not compass the description of this wondrous thing. As +the Master held it up in the sand-lashed dimness, half-gloom and +half-light, that formed a kind of aura round the fire--an aura sheeted +through and all about by the aerial avalanches of the sand--the +Legionaries got some vague idea of the necklace. + +Three black pearls and two white were strung on a fine chain of gold. +A gap in their succession told where the missing pearl formerly had +been. Each of the five pearls was of almost incalculable value; but +one, an iridescent Oman, far surpassed the others. + +This pearl was about the size of a man's largest thumb-joint. Its +shape was a smooth oval; its hue, even in that dim, wind-tossed light, +showed a wondrous, tender opalescence that seemed to change and blend +into rainbow iridescences as the staring Legionaries peered at it. +The other pearls, black and white alike, ranked as marvelous gems; +but this crown-jewel of the Great Pearl Star eclipsed anything the +Master--for all his wide travel and experience of life--ever had seen. + +By way of strange contrast in values the pearls were separated +from each other by worthless, little, smooth lumps of madrepore, +or unfossilized coral. These lumps were covered with tiny black +inscriptions in archaic Cufic characters; though what the significance +of these might be, the Master could not--in that gloom and howling +drive of the sand-devils--even begin to determine. + +The whole adornment, as it lay in the Master's palm, typified the +Orient. For there was gold; there were gems and bits of worthless +dross intermingled; and there about it was drifting sand of infinite +ages, darkness, flashes of light, color, mystery, wonder, beauty. + +"God! What this means!" the Master repeated, as the three men cringed +in the wady. "Success, dominion, power!" + +"You mean--" put in Leclair, his voice smitten away by the +ever-increasing storm that ravened over the top of the gully. + +"What do I _not_ mean, Lieutenant? No wonder the Apostate Sheik had to +flee from Mecca and take refuge here in this impassable wilderness at +the furthest rim of Islam! No wonder he has been hounded and hunted! +The only miracle is that some of his own tribesmen have not betrayed +him before now!" + +"Master, no Arab betrays his own sheik, right or wrong!" said Rrisa in +a strange voice. "Before that, an Arab dies by his own hand!" He spoke +in Arabic, with a peculiar inflection. + +Their eyes met a second by the light of the gusting fire. + +"Right or wrong, _M'alme_!" repeated the Arab. Then he added: "Shall I +not now go to drag in the swine-brother Abd el Rahman?" + +"Thou sayst, if he be left there--" + +"Yes, Master, he will surely die. All who are not sheltered, now, +will die. All who lie there on the dune, will be drifted under, will +breathe sand, will perish." + +"It is well, Rrisa. Go, drag in the swine-brother. But have a care to +harm him not. Thou wouldst gladly slay him, eh?" + +"More gladly than to live myself! Still, I obey. I go, I bring him +safe to you, O Master!" + +He salaamed, turned, and vanished up over the edge of the wady. + +The lieutenant, warned of the danger of sand-breathing by an +unconscious man, drew the hood of the woollen _za'abut_ up over the +face of Lebon. There was nothing more he could do for the poor fellow. +Only with the passage of time could he be reawakened. The French ace +turned again to where his chief was still scrutinizing the Pearl Star +as he crouched in the wady, back to the storm-wind, face toward the +fire on the beach. + +"Do you realize what this thing is?" demanded the Master, turning the +necklace in his hands. "Do you understand?" + +"I have heard of it, my Captain. For years vague rumors have come to +me from the desert-men, from far oases and cities of the Sahara. Now +here, now there, news has drifted in to Algiers--not news, but rather +fantastic tales. Yes, I have often heard of the Kaukab el Durri. But +till now I have always believed it a story, a myth." + +"No myth, but solid fact!" exulted the Master, with a strange laugh. +"This, Lieutenant, is the very treasure that Mohammed gathered +together during many years of looting caravans in the desert and +of capturing _sambuks_ on the Red Sea. Arabia, India, and China all +contributed to it. The Prophet gave it to his favorite wife, Ayeshah, +as he lay dying at Medina in the year 632, with his head in her lap. + +"Next to the Black Stone, itself, it is possibly the most precious +thing in Islam. And now, now with this Great Pearl Star in our hands, +what is impossible?" + +Silence fell between the two men. They still huddled there in the +partial protection of the wady, while all the evil _jinnee_ of the +sand-storm shrieked blackly overhead. With no further words they +continued to study the wondrous thing. The fire was dying, now, burned +out by the fierce blast of the storm and blown away to sea in long +spindrifts of spark and vapor, white as the sand-drive itself. By the +fading light little could now be seen of the Great Pearl Star. The +Master replaced it in its leather bag, knotted the cord securely about +the mouth of the receptacle, and pocketed it. + +A rattle of pebbles down the side of the wady, and a grunting call, +told them Rrisa had returned. Dimly they saw him dragging the old +Sheik over the lip of the gully, down into its half-protection. He +brought the unconscious man to them, and--though bowed by the frenzy +of the storm--managed a salute. + +"Here, Master, I have saved him from the _jinnee_ of the desert," +Rrisa pantingly announced. His voice trembled with a passionate hate; +his eyes gleamed with excitement; his nails dug into the palms of his +hands. "Now Master, gladden my eyes and expand my breast by letting me +see this old jackal's blood!" + +"No, Rrisa," the Master denied him. "I have other use for the old +jackal. Other punishments await him than death at my hands." + +"What punishments, Master?" the Arab cried with terrible eagerness. + +"Wait, and thou shalt see. And remember always, I am thy sheik, thy +preserver, with whom thou hast shared the salt. 'He who violates the +salt shall surely taste Jahannum!'" + +"Death shall have me, first!" cried Rrisa, and fell silent. And for +a while the three men crouched in the wady with the two unconscious +ones, torturer and victim. At length the Master spoke: + +"This won't do, Lieutenant. We must be getting back." + +Leclair peered at him in the screaming dark. + +"Why, my Captain?" asked he. "The Legionaries can care for themselves. +If _Nissr_ is breaking up, in the gale, we can do nothing. And on +the way we may be lost. To retrace our journey over the desert would +surely be to invite death." + +"We must return, nevertheless. This storm may last all night, and it +may blow itself out in half an hour. That cannot be told. The Legion +may think us lost, and try to search for us. Lives may be sacrificed. +Morale demands that we go back. Moreover, we certainly need not +traverse the desert." + +"How, then?" + +"We can descend the wady to the beach, and make southward along it, +under the shelter of the dunes." + +"In the noise and confusion of the storm they may take us for Arabs +and shoot us down." + +"I will see to that. Come, we must go! Carry Lebon, if you like. Rrisa +and I will take Abd el Rahman." + +"_M'alme_, not Abd el Rahman, now," ejaculated Rrisa, "but Abd el +Hareth![1] Let that be his title!" + +[Footnote 1: The former name signifies "Slave of Compassion;" the +latter, "Slave of the Devil."] + +"As thou wishest, Rrisa. But come, take his feet. I will hold him by +the shoulders. So! Now, forward!" + +"And have a care not to breathe the sand, Master," Rrisa warned. "Turn +thy face away when the _jinnee_ smite!" + +Stumbling, heavy-laden, the three men made their painful way down to +the beach, turned to the left, and plowed southward in deep sand. As +they left the remains of the fire a great blackness fell upon them. +The boisterous exultation of the wind, howling in from a thousand +miles of hot emptiness, out over the invisible sea now chopped into +frothy waves, seemed snatching at them. But the dunes at their left +flung the worst of the sand-storm up and over. And though whirls and +air-eddies, sand-laden, snatched viciously at them, they won along the +beach. + +That was lathering toil, burdened as they were, stumbling over +driftwood and into holes, laboring forward, hardly able to distinguish +more than the rising, falling line of white that marked the surf. +Voices of water and of wind conclamantly shouted, as if all the devils +of the Moslem Hell had been turned loose to snatch and rave at them. +Heat, stifle, sand caught them by the throat; the breath wheezed in +their lungs; and on their faces sweat and sand pasted itself into a +kind of sticky mud. + +After fifteen minutes of this struggle the Master paused. He dropped +Abd el Rahman's shoulders, and Rrisa the Sheik's feet, while Leclair +stood silently bowed with the weight of Lebon and of the belaboring +storm. + +"_Oooo-eeee! Oooooeeee! Oooooo-eeee!_" the Master hailed, three long +times. An answering shout came back, faintly, from the black. The +Master bent, assured himself the old Sheik's mouth and nose were still +covered by the hood of the burnous, and cried: "Forward!" And the +three men stumbled on and on. + +Five minutes later the Master once more paused. + +"Remember, both of you," he cautioned, "not one word of the find!" + +"The Great Pearl Star?" asked Leclair gruntingly. + +Their voices were almost inaudible to each other in that mad tumult. +"That is to be a secret, my Captain?" + +"Between us three; yes. Let that be understood!" + +"I pledge my honor to it!" cried the Frenchman. Rrisa added: "The +Master has but to command, and it is done!" Then once more they plowed +on down the shore. + +Only a few minutes more brought them, with surprising suddenness, to +the end of the Legionaries' trench. Trench it no longer was, however. +All the paltry digging had been swiftly filled in by the sand-devils; +and now the men were lying under the lee of the dunes, protecting +themselves as best they could with the tunics of their uniforms over +their heads. + +They got up and came stumbling in confusion to greet the returning +trio. Peering in the dark, straining their eyes to see, they listened +to a few succinct words of the Master: + +"Perfect success! Lethalizing was complete. Sand has buried the entire +tribe. Leclair found his former orderly, who had been their slave. +We have here their Sheik, Abd el Rahman. Nothing more to fear. Down, +everybody--tunics over heads again--let the storm blow itself out!" + +The Legion lay for more than an hour, motionless, waiting in the +night. During this hour both Lebon and the old Sheik recovered +consciousness, but only in a vague manner. There was no attempt to +tell them anything, to make any plans, to start any activities. In a +Sahara simoom, men are content just to live. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +TOIL AND PURSUIT + +Before midnight the storm died with a suddenness even greater than +that of its onset. Like a tangible flock of evil birds or of the +spirits Victor Hugo has painted in _Les Djinns_, the sand-storm blew +itself out to sea and vanished. The black sky opened its eyes of +starlight, once again; gradually calm descended on the desert, and by +an hour after midnight the steady east wind had begun to blow again. + +The "wolf's tail," or first gray streak of dawn along the horizon, +found the Legion all astir. Lebon had long since been told of his +rescue; he and his lieutenant had embraced and had given each other a +long story--the enslaved man's story making Leclair's face white with +rage, his heart a furnace of vengeance on all Islam. + +The Sheik, dimly understanding that these devils of Feringistan had by +their super-magic overwhelmed him and his tribe with sleep-magic +and storm-magic of the strongest, lay bound hand and foot, sullenly +brooding. No one could get a word from Abd el Rahman; not even Rrisa, +who exhausted a wonderful vocabulary of imprecation on him, until the +Master sternly bade him hold his peace. + +A gaunt, sunken-eyed old hawk of the desert he lay there in the sand, +unblinkingly defiant. Tortures and death, he felt, were to be his +portion; but with the stoicism of the barbarian he made no sound. +What his thoughts were, realizing the loss of tribesmen, capture, +despoilment of the Great Pearl Star, who could tell? + +A wondrous dawn, all mingled of scarlet, orange, and vivid yellows, +with streaks of absinthe hue, burned up over the desert world. It +showed _Nissr_ about as she had been the night before; for the simoom +had not thrashed up sea enough--offshore, as it had been--to break up +the partial wreck. + +The air-liner had, however, settled down a good deal in the sand, +and had canted at a sharp angle to port. Her galleries, fuselage, +and wings were heavily laden with sand that materially increased her +weight; and to the casual eye she gave the impression of a bird which +never again would soar on level wing. + +The major voiced discouragement, but no one shared it. Spirits were +still high, in spite of thirst and exhaustion, and of the losses +already sustained in men and material. Lombardo and "Captain Alden" +had patched up the wounded in rough, first-aid fashion; and they, +in spite of pain, shared the elation of the others in the entire +wiping-out of the Beni Harb. + +As soon as the light permitted operations to begin again, the Legion +trekked over to the Arabs' former lines. Nothing now remained to tell +them of the enemy, save here or there the flutter of a bit of burnous +or _cherchia_ (head-dress), that fluttered from the white sand now +all ribbed in lovely scollops like the waves of a moveless sea. In one +spot a naked brown arm and hand were projecting heavenward, out of the +sand-ocean, as if in mute appeal to Allah. + +The Legionaries heaped sand on this grim bit of death, completely +burying it, and on the fluttering cloths. And as they peered abroad +across the desert, in the glory of morning, now nothing could be seen +to mind them of the fighting-men who, like the host of Sennacherib, +had been brushed by the death-angel's wing. + +The jackals knew, though, and the skulking hyenas, already +sneaking in the _nullahs_; and so did the _rion_ and the yellow +_ukab_-birds--carrion-fowl, both--which already from the farthest +blue, had begun to wheel and volplane toward the coast. + +Back on the beach, exultant, yet rather silent in the face of all that +death, the Legion at once got itself into action under the vigorous +command of the Master. Twenty-three men were still fit and active for +service; and both Enemark and Lebon would in a few days be of help. + +"Man-power enough," thought the Master, as he laid out his campaign. +"The only troublesome factors, are, first, _Nissr's_ condition; +second, our lack of water and supplies; and third, the possibility of +interference from Arabs or European forces, by land or sea. If we can +overcome all these--_if_, did I say? We can! We will!" + +First of all, three volunteers swam out to _Nissr_ through the surf +now again beating in from the open sea. Their purpose was to bring the +wounded Kloof ashore. Even though Kloof's oversight of the stowaway +had wrecked the expedition, and though Kloof would probably be +executed in due time, common humanity dictated succoring him. + +The volunteers returned, after a hard fight, with a body past any +human judgments. Kloof, Daimamoto, Sheffield, and Beziers, all of +whom had lost their lives in the battle with the Beni Harb, were +soon buried on the beach by the hungry, thirsty, sand-penetrated +Legionaries. The shallow graves were piled with driftwood--rocks there +were none, even in the wady, which' was of clay and gravel--and so, +protected as best might be from beasts and birds, four of the +Legion entered their long homes. The only ceremony over the fallen +adventurers was the firing of a volley of six pistol-shots. + +Swiftly returning heat, and a plague of black flies that poisoned with +every bite, warned the Legionaries not to delay. Hunger and thirst, +too, scourged them on. Their first care was food and drink. + +Fortune favored them. In spite of the simoom the prevailing west +wind had cast up all along the shore--for two or three miles each +way--perhaps a quarter or a third of the stores they had been forced +to jettison. Before doing anything else, the Legion brought in these +cases of provisions and established a regular camp in the wady where +they would be protected from observation from the Sahara. The piling +up of these stores, the building of a fire to keep off the flies, +and the portioning out of what little tobacco they had with them, +wonderfully stiffened their morale. + +Water, however, was still lacking; and all the Legionaries, as well +as the old Sheik who would have died in the flames before asking +for drink, were beginning to suffer extremely. The Master detailed +Simonds, L'Heureux, and Seres to construct a still, which they did in +only a little more than three hours. + +The apparatus was ingeniously and efficiently built, out of two large +provision tins and some piping which they got--together with a few +tools--by swimming out to the air-liner. The still, with a brisk fire +under it, proved capable of converting sea-water into flat, tasteless +fresh water at the rate of two quarts an hour. Thirsty they might +all get, to desperation; but with this supply they could survive till +better could be had. + +While the distilling apparatus was being built, work was already under +way on _Nissr_; work which old Abd el Rahman watched with beady eyes +of hate; work in which Dr. Lombardo, fellow-partner in Kloof's guilt, +was allowed to share--the condition being frankly stated to him that +his punishment was merely being deferred. + +Under the Master's direction, stout mooring-piles of driftwood were +sunk into the dunes, block-and-tackle gear was improvised, and lines +were rove to the airship. She was lightened by shoveling several tons +of sand from her and by removing everything easily detachable; the men +working in baths of sweat, with a kind of ardent abandon. + +Enough power was still left in her storage-batteries to operate the +air-pressure system through the floats. This air, with a huge boiling +and seething of the white surf, loosened the floats from the cling of +the sand; and a score of men at the tackles succeeded at high-tide in +hauling _Nissr_ far up on the beach. + +Rough gear, broken ship, toiling men blind with sweat, blazing African +sun, appalling isolation, vultures and jackals at work behind the +dunes, and--back of all--ocean and Sahara, made a picture fit for any +master-painter. We must throw only one glance at it, and pass on. + +This much accomplished, nightfall, with the west glowing like +a stupendous jewel, brought rest. They camped in the wady, with +machine-guns mounted and sentinels out. Abd el Rahman, liberated from +his bonds and under strict surveillance, still refused to talk. No +information could be got from him; but Rrisa's eyes brightened with +unholy joy at sight of the old man ceremonially tearing his burnous +and sifting sand on his gray head. + +"Allah smite thy face, _ya kalb!_" (O dog!) he murmured. "Robber of +the Haram, from Jehannum is thy body!"[1] + +[Footnote 1: Alluding to the Arab superstition that every man's body +is drawn from the place where it will eventually be buried. Rrisa's +remark, therefore, was an Oriental way of wishing the Sheik back into +Hell.] + +Night passed with no alarm, quietly save for the yelping and +quarreling of the jackals and hyenas at work beyond the dunes. Early +morning found the Legionaries again at work; and so for five days they +toiled. The Legion was composed of picked men, skilled in science and +deep in technical wisdom. With what tools still remained from the time +when all surplus weight had been jettisoned, and with some improvised +apparatus, they set vigorously to work repairing the engines, fitting +new rudder-plates, patching up the floats and providing the burned +propellers with metal blades. + +Metal enough they had at hand, by cutting out dispensable partitions +from the interior. And beavers never worked as these men worked in +spite of the fierce smitings of the tropic sun. Even the wounded men +helped, holding or passing tools. The Master labored with the rest, +grimy, sweating, hard-jawed; and "Captain Alden" did her bit without +a moment's slackening. Save for Abd el Rahman, now securely locked +without any means of self-destruction in a stateroom, no man idled. + +Anxiety dogged their every moment. Sudden storm might yet hopelessly +break up the stranded air-liner. Other tribes might have seen the +signal-fire and might descend upon the Legionaries. Arab slavers might +discover them, beating along the coast in well-armed dhows. Twice, in +five days, latteen-sailed craft passed south, and one of these put +in to investigate; but a tray of blanks from a machine-gun, at half a +mile, turned the invader's blunt nose seaward again. + +The greatest peril of all was that some news of the wreck might reach +Rio de Oro and be wirelessed to civilization. That would inevitably +mean ruin. Either it would bring an air-squadron swooping down, or +battle-ships would arrive. + +The Master labored doggedly to get his neutralizing apparatus +effectively operating once more; and besides this, he spent hours +locked in his cabin, working on other apparatus the nature of which +he communicated to no one. But the Legion knew that nothing could +save them from long-range naval guns, if that kind of attack should +develop. They needed no urging to put forth stern, unceasing energies. +Twice smoke on the horizon raised the alarm; but nothing came of it. + +With great astuteness the Master had the wireless put in shape, at +once, and sent out three messages at random, on two successive days. +These messages stated that _Nissr_ had been sighted in flames and +falling, in North latitude 19 deg., 35'; longitude 28 deg., 16', or about two +hundred and fifty miles north-west of the Cape Verdes; that wreckage +from her had been observed somewhat south of that point; and that +bodies floating in vacuum-belts had been recovered by a Spanish +torpedo-boat. + +No answer came in from any of these messages; but there was always +an excellent chance that such misinformation would drag a red herring +across the trail of pursuit. + +Men never slaved as the Legionaries did, especially toward the end. +The last forty-eight hours, the Master instituted night work. The men +paused hardly long enough to eat or sleep, but snatched a bite when +they could, labored till they could do no more, and then dropped in +their places and were dragged out of the way so that others could +take hold. Some fell asleep with tools in hand, stricken down as if by +apoplexy. + +The Master had wisely kept the pace moderate, at first, but had +speeded up toward the end. None grew more haggard, toil-worn, or +emaciated than he. With blistered hands, sweat-blinded eyes, parched +mouths and fevered souls these men fought against all the odds of +destiny. Half naked they strove, oppressed by heat, sun, flies, +thirst, exhaustion. Tobacco was their only stay and solace. The +Master, however, only chewed khat leaves; and as for "Captain Alden," +she toiled with no stimulant. + +It was 7:33, on the morning of the sixth day, that Frazier--now chief +engineer--came to the Master, as he was working over some complex bit +of mechanism in his cabin. Frazier saluted and made announcement: + +"I think we can make a try for it now, sir." Frazier looked white and +wan, shaking, hollow-eyed, but a smile was on his lips. "Two engines +are intact. Two will run half-speed or a little better, and one will +do a little." + +"One remains dead?" + +"Yes, sir. But we can repair that on the way. Rudders and propellers +will do. Helicopters O.K." + +"And floats?" + +"Both aft floats repaired, sir. One is cut down a third, and one a +half, but they will serve." + +"How about petrol?" the Master demanded. "We have only that one aft +starboard tank, now, not over three-quarters full." + +"There's a chance that will do till we can run down a caravan along +the Red Sea, carrying petrol to Suakin or Port Sudan. So there's a +fighting hope--if we can raise ourselves out of this sand that clings +like the devil himself. It's lucky, sir, we jettisoned those stores. +Wind and current brought some of them back, anyhow. If they'd stayed +in the storeroom they'd have all been burned to a crisp." + +"Yes, yes. You think, then, we can make a start?" The Master put his +apparatus into the desk-drawer and carefully locked it. He stood up +and tightened his belt a notch. + +"We can try, sir," Frazier affirmed grimly. Unshaven, haggard, dirty, +and streaked with sweat, he made a strange figure by contrast with the +trim, military-looking chap who only a week before had started with +the other Legionaries, now no less altered than he. + +"Very well," said the Master decisively. "Our prospects are good. The +wounded are coming on. Counting Lebon, we have twenty-five men. I +will have all stores reloaded at once. Be ready in one hour, sir. +Understand?" + +"Yes, sir!" And Frazier, saluting again, returned to the ravaged but +once more efficient engine-room. + +All hands plunged into the surf, wading ashore--for it was now +high-tide--and in short order reloaded the liner. In forty-five +minutes stores, machine-guns, and everything had been brought aboard, +the cables to the posts in the beach had been cast off and hauled in, +and all the Legionaries were at their posts. The ports were closed. +Everything was ready for the supreme test. + +The Master was last to come aboard. Still dripping seawater, he +clambered up the ladder from the lower gallery to the main corridor, +and made his way into the pilot-house. Bohannan was with him, also +Leclair and Captain Alden. + +The engines had already been started, and the helicopters had begun +to turn, flickering swiftly in their turbine-tubes. The Master settled +himself in the pilot's seat. All at once a buzzer sounded close at +hand. + +"Well, what now?" demanded the Master into the phone communicating +with the upper port gallery. + +"Smoke to southward, sir. Coming up along the Coast." + +"Smoke? A steamer?" + +"Can't see, sir." It was the voice of Ferrara that answered. "The +smoke is behind the long point to southward. But it is coming faster +than a merchant vessel. I should say, sir, it was a torpedo-boat or a +destroyer, under forced draft. And it's coming--it's coming at a devil +of a clip, sir!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +ONWARD TOWARD THE FORBIDDEN CITY + +The Master rang for full engine-power, and threw in all six +helicopters with one swift gesture. + +"Major," commanded he, as _Nissr's_ burned and wounded body began to +quiver through all its mutilated fabric; "Major, man the machine-guns +again. All stations! _Quick_!" + +Bohannan departed. The droning of the helicopters rose to a shrill +hum. The Master switched in the air-pressure system; and far +underneath, white fountains of spumy water leaped up about the floats, +mingled with sand and mud all churned to frenzy under the bursting +energy of the compressed air released through thousands of tubules. + +_Nissr_ trembled, hesitated, lifted a few inches, settled back once +more. + +Again the buzzer sounded. The noise of rapid feet became audible +above, in the upper galleries. Ferrara called into the phone: + +"It's a British destroyer, sir! She's just rounded the point, three +miles south. Signals up for us to surrender!" + +"Machine-guns against naval ordnance!" gritted the Master savagely. +"Surrender?" He laughed with hot defiance. + +The first shell flung a perfect tornado of brine into air, glistening; +it ricochetted twice, and plunged into the dunes. A "dud," it failed +to burst. + +_Nissr_ rose again as the second shell hit fair in the hard clay of +the wady, cascading earth and sand a hundred feet in air. Both reports +boomed in, rolling like thunder over the sea. + +"Shoot and be damned to you!" cried the Master. _Nissr_ was rising +now, clearing herself from the water like a wounded sea-bird. A +tremendous cascade of water sluiced from her hissing floats, swirling +in millions of sun-glinted jewels more brilliant even than Kaukab el +Durri. + +Higher she mounted, higher still. The destroyer was now driving in at +full speed, with black smoke streaming from four funnels, perfectly +indifferent to possible shoals, rocks or sand-bars along this +uncharted coast. Another shell screamed under the lower gallery and +burst in a deluge of sand near one of the mooring-piles. + +"Very poor shooting, my Captain," smiled Leclair, leaning far out the +port window of the pilot-house. "But then, we can't blame the gunners +for being a bit excited, trying to bag a bit of international game +like this Legion." + +"And beside," put in Alden coolly, "our shifting position makes us +rather a poor target. Ah! That shell must have gone home!" + +_Nissr_ quivered from nose to tail. A violent detonation flung echoes +from sea and shore; and bits of splintered wreckage spun down past the +windows, to plunge into the still swirling, bubbling sea. + +The Master made no answer, but rang for the propellers to be clutched +in. _Nissr_ obeyed their quickening whirl. Her altitude was already +four hundred and fifty feet, as marked by the altimeter. Lamely she +moved ahead, sagging to starboard, badly scarred, ill-trimmed and +awry, but still alive. + +Her great black shadow, trailing behind her in the water, passed on +to the beach, wrinkled itself up over the dunes and slid across the +sand-drifts where little flutters of cloth, uncovered by the ghoulish +jackals, showed from the burning stretch of tawny desert. + +Flocks of vultures rose and soared away. Jackals and hyenas cowered +and slunk to cover. The tumult of the guns and this vast, drifting +monster of the air had overcome even their greed for flesh. + +Another shot, puffing white as wool from the bow-chaser of the +destroyer, screeched through the vultures, scattering them all ways, +but made a clean miss of _Nissr_. + +The air-liner gathered speed as the west wind got behind her, listed +her, pushed her forward in its mighty hands. Swifter, ever swifter, +her shadow slipped over dune and wady, over hillock and _nullah_, off +away toward the pellucidly clear-golden tints of the horizon beyond +which lay the unknown. + +Rrisa, at his gun-station, gnawed his fingers in rage and scorn of +the pursuing Feringi, and cried: "Allah make it hard for you! +_Laan'abuk!_" (Curses on your fathers!) + +Old Sheik Abd el Rahman, close-locked in a cabin, quivered, not with +fear, but with unspeakable grief and amazement past all telling. To +be thus carried away through the heavens in the entrails of the +unbelievers' flying dragon was a thing not to be believed. He +prostrated himself, with groans and cries to Allah. The Legionaries, +from galleries and gun-stations waving derisive arms, raised shouts +and hurrahs. + +Sweaty, spent, covered with grease and dirt, they cheered with leaping +hearts. + +Another shell, bursting in mid-air not fifty yards away, rocked +_Nissr_, keeled her to port, and for a moment sent her staggering +down. She righted, lifted, again gathered speed. + +More and more wild became the shooting, as she zigzagged, +rose, soared into something like her old-time stride. Behind +her the sea drew back, the baffled destroyer dwindled, the harmless +shots crashed in. + +Ahead of her the desert opened. Uncouth, lame, scarred by flame and +shell, _Nissr_ spread her vast wings and--still the Eagle of the Sky, +undaunted and unbeaten--roared into swift flight toward the waiting +mysteries of the vacant abodes. + +Mid-morning found _Nissr_ far from the coast, skimming along at +fifteen hundred feet altitude over the Tarmanant region of the Sahara. +The one shell from the destroyer that had struck her had done no more +than graze the tip of the starboard aileron, inflicting damage of no +material consequence. It could easily be repaired. + +For the present, all danger of any interference from any civilized +power seemed to be at an end. But the world had discovered that +_Nissr_ and her crew had not yet been destroyed, and the Legionaries +felt they must prepare for all eventualities. The stowaway's rash act +was still big with possibilities of the most sinister import. + +"This is probably just a temporary respite," said Bohannan, as he sat +with the Master in the latter's cabin. The windows had been slid +wide open, and the two men, leaning back in easy wicker chairs, were +enjoying the desert panorama each in his own way--Bohannan with a +cigar, the Master with a few leaves of the "flower of paradise." + +Now once more clean and a little rested, they had again assumed +something of their former aspect. "Captain Alden," and as many others +as could be spared from duty, were asleep. The Legion was already +pulling itself together, though in depleted numbers. Discipline had +tautened again. Once more the sunshine of possible success had begun +to slant in through a rift in the lowering clouds of disaster. + +"It's still, perhaps, only a temporary respite," the major was saying. +"Of course, as long as we stay in the Sahara, we're safe enough +from molestation. It's trying to get out--that, and shortage of +petrol--that constitute our problem now." + +"Yes?" asked the chief, noncommittally. He peered out the window at +the vast, indigo horizons of the desert, curving off to northward into +a semicircle of burnished blue. Here, there, the etherial wonder of a +mirage painted the sandy sea. Vast distances opened on all sides; +the sparkling air, brilliant with what seemed a kind of suspended +jewel-dust, made every object visible at an incredible remoteness. The +wonder of that morning sun and desert could not be put in words. + +"Our troubles are merely postponed," the Celt continued, gloomily. +"The damage was done when that infernal destroyer sighted us. Just how +the alarm was given, and what brought the sea-wasp racking her engines +up the coast, we can't tell. But the cat's out of the bag, now, and +we've got to look out for an attack at any moment we try to leave this +region." + +"It's obvious my wireless messages about being wrecked at sea won't +have much weight now," the Master replied, analytically. "They would +have, though, if that slaving-dhow hadn't put in to investigate us. I +have an idea that those _jallahs_ (slavers) must in some way have let +the news out at Bathurst, down in Gambia. That's the nearest British +territory." + +"I wish they'd come within machine-gun fire!" growled the major, +blowing smoke. + +"Still, we've got lots of room to maneuver," the chief continued. +"We're heading due east now," with a glance at the wall-compass and +large-scale chart of Northern Africa. "We're now between Mauretania +and Southern Algeria, bound for Fezzan, the Libyan Desert, and Nubia +on the Red Sea. That is a clear reach of more than three thousand +miles of solid desert." + +"Oh, we're all right, as long as we stay in the desert," Bohannan +affirmed. "But they'll be watching for us, all right, when we try to +leave. It's all British territory to the east of us, from Alexandria +down to Cape Town. If we could only make our crossing of the Nile and +the Red Sea, at night--?" + +"Impossible, Major. That's where we've got to restock petrol. If it +comes to a show-down, crippled as we are, we'll fight! Of course, I +realize that, fast as we fly, the wireless flies faster. We may have +to rely on our neutralizers again--" + +"They're working?" + +"Imperfectly, yes. They'll still help us, in 'civilized warfare.' +And as for what will happen at Mecca, if the Faithful are indiscreet +enough to offer any resistance--" + +"Got something new, have you?" + +"I think it may prove something of a novelty, Major. Time will tell, +if Allah wills. Yes, I think we may have a little surprise for our +friends, the Meccans." + +The two fell silent again, watching the desert panorama roll back +and away, beneath them. Afar, two or three little oases showed +feathery-tufted palms standing up like delicate carvings against the +remote purple spaces or against the tawny, seamed desolation that +burned as with raw colors of fires primeval. Here, there, patches of +stunted tamarisk bushes were visible. A moving line of dust showed +where a distant caravan was plodding eastward over the sparkling +crystals of an ancient salt sea-bottom. A drift of low-hanging +wood-smoke, very far away, betrayed the presence of a camp of the Ahl +Bayt, the People of the Black Tents. + +The buzzer of the Master's phone broke the silence between the two +men, a silence undertoned by the throb and hum of the now effectively +operating engines. + +"Well, what is it?" the Master queried. + +"Promising oasis, _mon capitaine_," came the voice of Leclair from the +upper starboard gallery. "Through my glass I can make out extensive +date-palm groves, pomegranate orchards, and gardens. There must be +plenty of water there. We should take water, eh?" + +"Right!" the Master answered. He got up and turned to Bohannan. + +"Major," commanded he, "have Simonds and a crew of six stand by, in +the lower gallery, to descend in the nacelle. Rrisa is to go. They +will need him, to interpret. Give them a few of the trinkets from that +assortment we brought for barter, and a little of our Arabic money." + +"Yes, sir. But you know only two of the detachable tanks are left." + +"Two will suffice. Have them both lowered, together with the +electric-drive pump. Don't annoy me with petty details. You are in +charge of this job now. Attend to it!" + +He passed into the pilot-house, leaned at the window and with his +glasses inspected the deep green patch, dark as the profoundest sea, +that marked the oasis. A little blind village nestled there, with +mud-brick huts, a watch-tower and a tiny minaret; date-grounds and +fields of corn, melons, and other vegetables spread a green fringe +among the groves. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + +"LABBAYK!" + +As Nissr slowed near the oasis, the frightened Arabs--who had been +at their _ghanda_, or mid-day meal--swarmed into the open. They left +their mutton, _cous-cous_, date-paste, and lentils, their chibouques +with perfumed vapor and their keef-smoking, and manifested extreme +fear by outcries in shrill voices. Under the shadows of the palms, +that stood like sentinels against the blistering sands, they gathered, +with wild cries. + +No fighting-men, these. The glasses disclosed that they were mostly +old men, women, children. Young men were few. The fighters had +probably gone with the caravan, seen a while before. There came a +little ragged firing; but a round of blanks stopped that, and sent the +villagers skurrying back into the shelter of the palms, mimosas, and +jamelon trees. + +_Nissr_ poised at seven hundred and fifty feet and let down tanks, +nacelle, and men. There was no resistance. The local _naib_ came with +trembling, to make salaam. Water was freely granted, from the _sebil_, +or public fountain--an ancient tank with century-deep grooves cut in +its solid stone rim by innumerable camel-hair ropes. The flying men +put down a hose, threw the switch of the electric pump, and in a few +minutes half emptied the fountain. The astonishment of the villagers +passed all bounds. + +"These be men of great magic," said the _naib_, to Rrisa, after the +tanks had been hoisted to _Nissr_, and a dozen sacks of fresh dates +had been purchased for the trinkets plus two _ryals_ (about two +dollars). "Tell me of these 'People of the Books!'" + +"I will tell thee of but one thing, Abu Shawarib," (father of +whiskers) answered Rrisa with pride. "Old Abd el Rahman is our +prisoner in the flying ship above. We are taking him back to Mecca. +All his people of the Beni Harb lie dead far toward the great waters, +on the edge of the desert of the sea. The Great Pearl Star we also +have. That too returneth to the Haram. _Allah iselmak!_" (Thanks be to +Allah!) + +The _naib_ prostrated himself, with joyful cries, and touched lips +and forehead with quivering fingers. All others who heard the +news, did likewise. Fruits, pomegranate, syrup, honey, and _jild el +faras_[1] were brought as offerings of gratitude. The crew ascended to +the air-liner amid wild shouts of praise and jubilation. + +[Footnote 1: Literally "mare's skin." Apricot paste in dried sheets, +cut into convenient sizes. A great dainty among the Arabs.] + +"You see, Leclair?" the Master inquired, as _Nissr_ drew away once +more to eastward, leaving the village in the palms behind. "We hold +power already with the sons of Islam! What will it be when--?" + +"When you attempt to take from them their all, instead of returning to +them what they so eagerly desire to have!" the Frenchman put in. "Let +us hope all for the best, my Captain, but let us keep our powder very +dry!" + +Two days and one night of steady flying over the ocean of sand, with +but an occasional oasis or caravan to break the appalling wastes of +emptiness, brought _Nissr_ to the Valley of the Nile. The river of +hoar antiquity came to view in a quivering heat-haze, far to eastward. +In anticipation of possible attack, _Nissr_ was forced to her best +altitude, of now forty-seven hundred feet, all gun-stations were +manned and the engines were driven to their limit. The hour was +anxious; but the Legion passed the river in safety, just a little +south of the twentieth degree, near the Third Cataract. Bohannan's +gloomy forebodings proved groundless. + +The Red Sea and Arabia were now close at hand. Tension increased. +Rrisa thrilled with a malicious joy. He went to the door of the +captive Sheik, and in flowery Arabic informed him the hour of +reckoning was at last drawing very near. + +"Thou carrion!" he exclaimed. "Soon shalt thou be in the hands of the +Faithful. Soon shall Allah make thy countenance cold, O offspring of a +one-eyed man!" + +Three hours after, the air-liner sighted a dim blue line that marked +the Red Sea. The Master pointed at this, with a strange smile. + +"Once we pass that sea," he commented, "our goal is close. The hour of +great things is almost at hand!" + +"Provided we get some petrol," put in Bohannan. + +"Faith, an open gate, that should have been closed, defeated Napoleon. +A few hundred gallons of gasoline--" + +"The gasoline is already in sight, Major," smiled the chief, his +glasses on the coastline. "That caravan--see there?--comes very +apropos." + +The Legion bore down with a rush on the caravan--a small one, not +above fifty camels, but well laden. The cameleers left off crying +"_Ooosh! Ooosh!_" and beating their spitting beasts with their +_mas'hab_-sticks, and incontinently took to their heels. Rrisa viewed +them with scorn, as he went down in the nacelle with a dozen of the +crew. + +The work of stripping the caravan immediately commenced. In an hour +some five hundred tin cases of petrol had been hoisted aboard. On +the last trip down, the Master sent a packet wrapped in white cloth, +containing a fair money payment for the merchandise. British goods, he +very wisely calculated, could not be commandeered without recompense +The packet was lashed to a camel-goad which was driven into the sand, +and _Nissr_ once more got slowly under way. + +All eyes were now on the barren chalk and sandstone coasts of the Red +Sea, beyond which dimly rose the castellated peaks of Jebel Radhwa. +At an altitude of 2,150 feet the air-liner slid out over the Sea, +the waters of which shone in the mid-afternoon sun with a peculiar +luminosity. Only a few _sambuks_, or native craft, troubled +those historic depths; though, down in the direction of Bab el +Mandeb--familiar land to the Master--a smudge of smoke told of some +steamer beating up toward Suez. + +Leaning from the upper port gallery, the Master with Bohannan, +Leclair, and "Captain Alden," watched the shadow of the giant +air-liner sliding over the tawny sand-bottom. That shadow seemed a +scout going on before them, spying out the way to Arabia and to Mecca, +the Forbidden City. To the white men that shadow was only a shadow. +To Rrisa, who watched it from the lower gallery, it portended ominous +evil. + +"It goes ahead of us, by Allah!" he murmured. "Into the Empty Abodes, +where the sons of Feringistan would penetrate, a shadow goes first! +And that is not good." He whispered a prayer, then added: "For the +others, I care not. But my Master--his life and mine are bound with +the cords of Kismet. And in the shadows I see darkness for all!" + +At 4:27, _Nissr_ passed the eastern shores of the Red Sea. Arabia +itself now lay beneath. There exposed to their eyes, at length lay the +land of mystery and fear. Bare and rock-ribbed, a flayed skeleton of +a terrain, it glowed with wondrous yellow, crimson, and topaz hues. +A haze bounded the south-eastern horizon, where a range of iron hills +jaggedly cut the sky. Mecca was almost at hand. + +The Master entered his cabin and summoned Rrisa. + +"Listen," he commanded. "We are now approaching the Holy City. I am +bringing back the Apostate Sheik and the Great Pearl Star. I am the +preserver of the Star. Thine own people could not keep it. I have +recovered it. Is that not true?" + +"True, _M'alme_, praise to Allah!" + +"It may be that I shall be called on to preserve some other and +still more sacred thing. If so, remember that my salt is still in thy +stomach." + +"Master, I will not forget." Rrisa spoke dutifully, but his eyes +were troubled. His face showed lines of fear, of the struggle already +developing in his soul. + +"Go thou, then! And remember that whatever happens, my judgment tells +me it is best. Raise not a hand of rebellion against me, Rrisa, to +whom thou owest life itself. To thy cabin--go!" + +"But, Master--" + +"_Ru'c'h halla!_" + +The Arab salaamed and departed, with a strange look in his eyes. + +When he was gone, the Master called Bohannan and Leclair, outlined the +next _coup_ in this strange campaign, and assigned crews to them for +the implacable carrying-out of the plan determined on--surely the most +dare-devil, ruthless, and astonishing plan ever conceived by the brain +of a civilized man. + +Hardly had these preparations been made, when the sound of +musketry-fire, below and ahead, drew their attention. From the open +ports of the cabin, peering far down, the three Legionaries witnessed +an extraordinary sight--a thing wholly incongruous in this hoar land +of mystery and romance. + +Skirting a line of low savage hills that ruggedly stretched from +north to south, a gleaming line of metal threaded its way. A train, +southbound for Mecca, had halted on the famous Pilgrims' Railway. +From its windows and doors, white-clad figures were violently +gesticulating. Others were leaping from the train, swarming all about +the carriages. + +An irregular fusillade, harmless as if from pop-guns, was being +directed against the invading Eagle of the Sky. A faint, far outcry +of passionate voices drifted upward in the heat and shimmer of that +Arabian afternoon. The train seemed a veritable hornets' nest into +which a rock had been heaved. + +"Faith, but that's an odd sight," laughed the major. "Where else +in all this world could you get a contrast like that--the desert, a +semibarbarous people, and a railroad?" + +"Nowhere else," put in Leclair. "There is no other road like that, +anywhere in existence. The Damascus-Mecca line is unique; a Moslem +line built by Moslems, for Moslems only Modern mechanism blent with +ancient superstition and savage ferocity that implacably hold to the +very roots of ancient things!" + +"It is the Orient, Lieutenant," added the Master. "And in the Orient, +who can say that any one thing is stranger than anything else? To your +stations, men!" + +They took their leave. The Master entered the pilot-house and assumed +control. As _Nissr_ passed over the extraordinary Hejaz Railway, +indifferent to the mob of frenzied, vituperating pilgrims, the chief +peered far ahead for his first sight of Mecca, the Forbidden. + +He had not long to wait. On the horizon, the hills seemed suddenly to +break away. As the air-liner roared onward, a dim plain appeared, with +here or there a green-blue blur of oasis and with a few faint white +spots that the Master knew were pilgrims' camping-places. + +Down through this plain extended an irregular depression, a kind of +narrow valley, with a few sharply isolated, steep hills on either +hand. + +The Master's eyes gleamed. His jaw set; his hand, on the controls, +tightened till the knuckles whitened. + +"The Valley of Mina!" he exclaimed. "Mount Arafat--and there, beyond, +lies Mecca! _Labbayk! Labbayk!_" + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + + +OVER MECCA + +The descent of the giant air-liner and her crew of masterful +adventurers on the Forbidden City had much the quality of a hawk's +raid on a vast pigeon-cote. As _Nissr_, now with slowed engines loomed +down the Valley of Sacrifice, a perfectly indescribable hurricane of +panic, rage, and hate surged through all the massed thousands who had +come from the farthest ends of Islam to do homage to the holy places +of the Prophet. + +The outraged Moslems, in one fierce burst of passion against the +invading Feringi, began to swarm like ants when the stone covering +their ant-hill is kicked over. From end to end of the valley, a +howling tumult arose. + +On the Darb el Ma'ala, or Medina Road, a caravan bearing the annual +_mahmal_ gift of money, jewels, fine fabrics, and embroidered +coverings for the Ka'aba temple, cut loose with rifles and old +blunderbusses. Dogs began to bark, donkeys to bray, camels to spit and +snarl. The whole procession fell into an anarchy of hate and fear. + +The vast camp of conical white tents in the Valley of Mina spewed out +uncounted thousands of _Hujjaj_ (pilgrims), each instantly transformed +into a blood-lusting fiend. From the Hill of Arafat; from Jannat el +Ma'ale Cemetery; from the dun, bronzed, sun-baked city of a hundred +thousand fanatic souls; from the Haram sanctuary itself where mobs of +pilgrims were crowded round the Ka'aba and the holy Black Stone; +from latticed balcony and courtyard, flat roof, mosque, and minaret, +screams of rage shrilled up into the baked air, quivering under the +intense sapphire of the desert sky. + +Every crowded street of the bowl-shaped city, all converging toward +the Sacred Enclosure of the Haram, every caravanserai and square, +became a mass of howling _ghuzzat_, or fighters for the faith. Mecca +and its environs, outraged as never before in the thousands of years +of its history, instantly armed itself and made ready for a _Jihad_, +or holy war of extermination. + +Where the Ahl Bayt, or People of the Black Tents, had tamely enough +submitted to the invaders, these Ahl Hayt, or People of the Walls, +leaped to arms, eager for death if that could be had in the battle +against the infidel dog--for death, so, meant instant bearing up to +Paradise, to cool fountains and sweet fruits, and to the caresses of +the seventy entrancing houris that each good Moslem has had promised +him by "The Strong Book," Al Koran. + +Every man and boy in all that tremendous multitude spread over many +square miles of rocky, sun-blistered aridity, seized whatever came +first to hand, for the impending war, as the black shadow of _Nissr_ +lagged down toward the city and the Haram. Some snatched rifles, some +pistols; others brandished spears and well-greased _nebut_ clubs, six +feet long and deadly in stout hands. Even camel-sticks and tent-poles +were furiously flung aloft. Pitiful, impotent defiance, no more +effective than the waving of ants' antennae against the foot that +kicks their nest to bits! + +Screams, curses, execrations in a score of tongues mounted in one +frenzied chorus. Swarms of white-robed pilgrims came running in masses +after the drifting shadow, knocking each other down, falling +aver tent-pegs, stampeding pack-animals. The confusion amazed the +Legionaries as they watched all this excitement through their powerful +glasses. + +"It looks," thought the Master, with a smile, "as if our little +surprise-party might be a lively affair. Well, I am ready for it. +'Allah knows best, and time will show!'" + +All over the plain and through the city, myriads of little white +puffs, drifting down-wind, showed the profusion of firing. Now came +the boom of a cannon from the Citadel--an unshotted gun, used only for +calling the Faithful to prayer. Its booming echo across the plain and +up against the naked, reddish-yellow hills, still further whipped the +blood-frenzy of the mad mobs. + +Even the innumerable pigeons, "Allah's announcers,"[1] swirled in +clouds from the arcades, mosques, and minarets surrounding the Haram, +and from the Ka'aba itself, and began winging erratic courses all +about the Forbidden City. Men, birds, and animals alike, all shared +the terror of this unheard-of outrage when--according to ancient +prophesy--the Great Devils of Feringistan should desecrate the holy +places. + +[Footnote 1: So called because of their habit of cooing and bowing. +Moslems fancy they are praying to Allah and making salaam to him.] + +"Slow her!" commanded the Master into the engine-room phone, and began +compensating with the helicopters, as _Nissr_ lagged over the crowded +city. "Shut off--let her drift! Stand by to reverse!" + +Mecca the Unattainable now lay directly beneath, its dun roofs, packed +streets, ivory minarets all open to the heretics' gaze from portholes, +from the forward observation pit and from the lower gallery. As +_Nissr_ eased herself down to about one thousand feet, the plan of +the city became visible as on a map. The radiating streets all started +from the Haram. White mobs were working themselves into frenzy, +trampling the pilgrims' shrouds that had been dipped in the waters of +the well, Zem Zem, and laid out to dry. + +Not even the Master's aplomb could suppress a strange gleam in +his eye, could keep his face from paling a little or his lips from +tightening, as he now beheld the inmost shrine of two hundred and +thirty million human beings. Nor did any of the Legionaries, bold as +they were, look upon it without a strange contraction of the heart. As +for the Apostate Sheik, that old jackal of the desert was crouched +in his place of confinement, with terror clutching at his soul; with +visions of being torn to pieces by furious Sunnite mobs oppressing +him. + +And Rrisa, what of him? Shut into his cabin, with the door locked +against intrusion, he was lying face downward on the metal floor, +praying. For the first time in the world's history, a Moslem's +_kiblah_, or direction of prayer, was directly downward! + +"Reverse!" ordered the Master. Nissr hovered exactly above the Haram +enclosure. "Lower to five hundred feet, then hold her!" + +The air-liner sank slowly, with a hissing of air-intakes into the +vacuum-floats, and hung there, trembling, quivering with the slow +back-revolution of her screws, the swift energy of her helicopters. +The Master put her in charge of Janina, the Serbian ace, and descended +to the lower gallery. + +Here he found the crew assembled by Bohannan and Leclair ready for the +perilous descent they were about to make. + +He leaned over the rail, unmindful of the ragged patter of bullets +from below, and with a judicial eye observed the prospect. His calm +contrasted forcibly with the frenzied surging of the pilgrim mobs +below, a screaming, raging torrent of human passion. + +Clearly he could discern every detail of the city whereof Mohammed +wrote in the second chapter of the Koran: "So we have made you the +center of the nations that you should bear witness to men." He could +see the houses of dark stone, clustering together on the slopes like +swallows' nests, the unpaved streets, the _Mesjid el Haram_, or +sacred square, enclosed by a great wall and a colonnade surmounted by +small white domes. + +At the corners of this colonnade, four tall white minarets towered +toward the sky--minarets from which now a pretty lively rifle-fire +was developing. A number of small buildings were scattered about the +square; but all were dominated by the black impressive cube of the +Ka'aba itself, the _Bayt Ullah_, or Allah's house. + +The Master gave an order. Ferrara obeying it, brought from his cabin +a piece of apparatus the Master had but perfected in the last two days +of flight over the Sahara. This the Master took and clamped to the +rail. + +"Captain Alden," said he, "stand by, at the engine-room phone from +this gallery, here, to order any necessary adjustments as weights +are dropped or raised. Keep the ship at constant altitude as well as +position. Major Bohannan and Lieutenant Leclair, are your crews ready +for the descent?" + +"Yes, sir," the major answered. "_Oui, mon capitaine_," replied the +Frenchman. + +"Tools all ready? Machine-guns installed? Yes? Very well. Open the +trap, now, and swing the nacelle by the electric crane and winch. +Right! Steady!" + +The yells of rage and hate from below were all this time increasing in +volume and savagery. Quite a pattering of rifle-bullets had +developed against the metal body of the lower gallery and--harmlessly +glancing--against the fuselage. + +Smiling, the Master once more peered over. He seemed, as indeed he +was, entirely oblivious to any fear. Too deeply had the Oriental +belief of Kismet, of death coming at the appointed hour and no sooner, +penetrated his soul, to leave any place there for the perils of +chance. + +The swarming Haram enclosure presented one of the most extraordinary +spectacles ever witnessed by human eyes. The strangeness of the scene, +witnessed under the declining sun of that desert land, was heightened +by the fact that all these furious Moslems were seen from above. Men +cease to appear human, at that angle. They seem to be only heads, from +which legs and arms flail out grotesquely. + +The Haram appeared to have become a vast pool of brown faces and +agitated white _ihrams_ (pilgrim robes) of weaving brown hands, +of gleaming weapons. This pool, roaring to heaven, showed strange, +violent currents in flow and refluent ebb of hate. + +To descend into that maelstrom of frenzied murder-lust took courage +of the highest order. But neither Bohannan nor the Frenchman had even +paled. Not one of their men showed any hesitancy whatever. + +"Ready, sir," said the major, crisply. "Faith, give the signal and +down we go; and we'll either bring back what we're going after, or +we'll all come back and report ourselves dead!" + +"Just a minute, Major," the Master answered. He had opened a small +door of the box containing the apparatus he had just clamped to the +rail, and had taken out a combination telephone earpiece and receiver. +With this at mouth and ear, he leaned over the rail. His lips moved in +a whisper inaudible even to those in the lower gallery with him. + +An astonishing change, however, swept over the infuriated mob in the +Haram and throughout the radiating streets. One would have thought a +bolt from heaven had struck the Moslems dumb. The angry tumult died; +the vast hush that rose to _Nissr_ was like a blow in the face, +so striking was its contrast with the previous uproar. Most of the +furious gesticulation ceased, also. All those brown-faced fanatics +remained staring upward, silent in a kind of thunder-struck amazement. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + + +EAST AGAINST WEST + +The major, peering down through the trap, swore luridly. Leclair +muttered something to himself, with wrinkled brow. "Captain Alden's" +eyes blinked strangely, through the holes of the mask. The others +stared in frank astonishment. + +"What the devil, sir--?" began the major; but the chief held up +his hand for silence. Again he spoke whisperingly into the strange +apparatus. This time a murmur rose to him; a murmur increasing to a +confused tumult, that in an angry wave of malediction beat up about +Nissr as she hung there with spinning helicopters, over the city. + +The Master smiled as he put up the receiver in the little box and +closed the door with a snap. Regretfully he shook his head. + +"These Arabic gentlemen, _et al_," he remarked, "don't seem agreeably +disposed to treat with us on a basis of exchanging the Sheik Abd el +Rahman for what we want from them. My few remarks in Arabic, via this +etheric megaphone, seem to have met a rebuff. Every man in the Haram, +the minarets, the arcade, and the radiating streets heard every word I +said, gentlemen, as plainly as if I had spoken directly into his ear. +Yet no sound at all developed here." + + +"The principle is parallel to that of an artillery shell that only +bursts when it strikes, and might be extremely useful in warfare, +if properly developed--as I haven't had time, yet, to develop it. No +matter about that, though. My proposal has been rejected. Peace having +been declined, we have no alternative but to use other, means. +There is positively no way of coming to an agreement with our Moslem +friends, below." + +As if to corroborate his statement, a rifle-bullet whistled through +the open trap and flattened itself against the metal underbody of the +fuselage, over their heads. It fell almost at "Captain Alden's" feet. +She picked it up and pocketed it. + +"My first bit of Arabia," said she. "Worth keeping." + +The firing, below, had now become more general than ever. Shrill cries +rose to Allah for the destruction of these infidel flying dogs. The +Master paid no more heed to them than to the buzzing of so many bees. + +"I think, Major," said he, "we shall have to use one of the two +kappa-ray bombs on these Arabic gentry. It's rather too bad we haven't +more of them, and that the capsules are all gone." + +"Pardon me, my Captain," put in Leclair, "but the +paralysis-vibrations, eh? As you did to me, why not to them?" + +"Impossible. The way we're crippled, now, I haven't the equipment. But +I shall nevertheless be able to show you something, Lieutenant. Major +will you kindly drop one of the kappa-rays?" + +He gestured at two singular-looking objects that stood on the metal +floor of the lower gallery, about six feet from the trap. Cubical +objects they were, some five inches on the edge, each enclosed in what +seemed a tough, black, leather-like substance netted with stout white +cords that were woven together into a handle at the top. + +Strong as Bohannan was, his face grew red, with swollen veins in +forehead and neck, as he tried to lift this small object. Nothing in +the way of any known substance could possibly have weighed so much; +not even solid lead or gold. + +"Faith!" grunted the major. "What the devil? These two little metal +boxes didn't weigh a pound apiece when--ugh!--when we packed 'em in +our bags. How about it, chief?" + +The Master smiled with amusement. + +"They weren't magnetized then, Major," he answered. "Shall I have +someone help you?" + +"No, by God! I'll either lift this thing or die, right here!" the Celt +panted, redder still. But he did not lift the little cube. The best he +could do was to drag it, against mighty resistance, to the edge of the +trap; and with a last, mighty heave, project it into space. + +As it left the trap, _Nissr_ rocked and swayed, showing how great a +weight had been let drop. Down sped the little, netted cube, whirling +in the sunlight. Its speed was almost that of a rifle-ball--so far in +excess of anything that could have been produced by gravitation as to +suggest that some strange, magnetic force was hurling it earthward, +like a metal-filing toward an electro-magnet. It dwindled to nothing, +in a second, and vanished. + +All peered over the rail, eager with anticipation. No explosion +followed, but the most astonishing thing happened. All at once, +without any preliminary disturbance, the ground became white. A +perfect silence fell on the Haram and the city for perhaps half a mile +on all sides of the sacred enclosure Haram and streets, roof-tops, +squares all looked as if suddenly covered with deep snow. + +This whiteness, however, was not snow, but was produced by the +_ihrams_ of the pilgrims now coming wholly to view. + +Instead of gazing down on the heads of the multitude--all bare heads, +as the Prophet commands for pilgrims--the Legionaries now found +themselves looking at their whole bodies. Every pilgrim in sight +had instantaneously fallen to the earth, on the gravel of the Haram, +along the raised walks from the porticoes to the Ka'aba, on the marble +tiling about the Ka'aba itself, even in the farthest visible streets. + +The white-clad figures lay piled on each other in grotesque attitudes +and heaps. Even the stone tank at the north-west side of the Ka'aba, +under the famous Myzab, or Golden Waterspout on the Ka'aba roof, was +heaped full of them; and all round the sacred Zem Zem well they lay in +silent windrows, reaped down by some silent, invisible force. + +In the remote suburbs and out on the plain, the Legionaries' +binoculars could still see a swarming of white figures; but all the +immediate vicinity was now wholly silent, motionless. To and fro the +Master swept his glasses, and nodded with satisfaction. + +"You have now fifteen minutes, men," said he, "before the paralyzing +shock of that silent detonation--that noiseless release of molecular +energies which does not kill nor yet destroy consciousness in the +least--will pass away. So--" + +"You mean to tell me, my Captain, _those pilgrims are still +conscious?_" demanded Leclair, amazed. + +"Perfectly. They will see, hear, and know all you do. I wish them to. +The effect will be salutary, later. But they cannot move or interfere. +All you have to look out for is the incoming swarm of fanatics already +on the move. So there is no time to be lost. Into the nacelle, and +down with you!" + +"But if they try to rush us you can drop the other bomb, can't you?" +demanded the major, as they all clambered into the nacelle. + +The Master smiled, as he laid his hands on top of the basket and +cast his eyes over the equipment there, noting that machine-guns, +pick-axes, crowbars, and all were in position. + +"The idea does you credit, Major," said he. "The fact that the other +bomb would of course completely paralyze you and your men, here, is +naturally quite immaterial. Let us have no more discussion, please. +Only fourteen minutes, thirty seconds now remain before the _Hujjaj_ +will begin to recover their muscular control. You have your work cut +out for you, the next quarter-hour!" + +The Master raised his hand in signal to Grison, at the electric winch +A turn of a lever, and the nacelle rose from the metals of the lower +gallery. It swung over the trap and was steadied there, a moment, by +many hands. The raiding-party leaped in. + +"Lower away!" commanded the chief + +Smoothly the winch released the fine steel cable, with a purring +sound. Down shot the nacelle, steadily, swiftly, with the major, +Leclair, and the others now engaged in the most perilous, dare-devil +undertaking imaginable. + +Down, swiftly down, to raid the _Bayt Ullah_, the sacred Ka'aba, holy +of holies to more than two hundred million Moslem fanatics, each of +whom would with joy have died to keep the hand of the unbelieving +dog from so much as touching that hoar structure or the earth of the +inviolate Haram. + +Down, swiftly down with picks and crowbars. Down, into the midst of +all that paralyzed but still conscious hate, to the very place of the +supremely sacred Black Stone, itself. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + + +THE BATTLE OF THE HARAM + +The raiding-party, beside its two leaders, consisted of Lombardo, +Rennes, Emilio, Wallace, and three others, including Lebon. The +lieutenant's orderly, now having recovered strength, had pleaded so +hard for an opportunity to avenge himself on the hated Moslems that +Leclair had taken him. + +As for Lombardo, he had downright insisted on going. His life, he +knew, was already forfeited to the expedition--by reason of his having +let the stowaway escape--and, this being so, he had begged and been +granted the favor of risking it in this perilous undertaking. + +Such was the party now swiftly dropping toward the Haram where never +yet in the history of the world two English-speaking men had at one +time gathered; where never yet the speech of the heretic had been +heard; where so many intruders had been beheaded or crucified for +having dared profane the ground sacred to Allah and his Prophet. + +To the major, peering over the side of the nacelle, it seemed as +if the Haram--central spot of pilgrimage and fanatic devotion for +one-seventh of the human race--were leaping up to meet him. With +dizzying rapidity the broad square, the grim black Ka'aba, the +prostrate white throngs all sprang up at the basket. Fascinated, the +major watched; his eyes, above all, sought the mysterious Ka'aba. +Excitement thrilled his romantic soul at thought that he was one of +the very first white men in the world ever to behold that strange, +ancient building. + +Clearly he could see the stone slabs cemented with gypsum, the few +stricken pigeons lying there, the cords holding the huge _kiswah_, +or brocaded cloth, covering "Mecca's bride," (the Ka'aba). The Golden +Waterspout was plainly visible, gleaming in the sun--a massive trough +of pure metal, its value quite incalculable. + +Now the Ka'aba was close; now the nacelle slowed, beside it, in the +shadow of its grim blackness. The major got an impression of exceeding +richness from the shrouding veil, which he saw to be a huge silken +fabric, each side like a vast theater curtain of black, with a +two-foot band a little more than half-way up, the whole covered with +verses from the Koran worked in gold. + +The nacelle sank gently on to a heap of motionless pilgrims, canted to +the left, and came to rest. Not a groan, curse, or even a sigh escaped +the desecrated Moslems forever defiled by the touch of the infidels' +accursed machine. + +The effect was horribly uncanny--of all those brown men, open-eyed and +conscious, but perfectly unable to move so much as an eyebrow. Such as +had fallen with their eyes in the direction of the nacelle, could +see what was going on; the others could only judge of this incredible +desecration by what they could hear. The sound of foreign voices, +speaking an unbelievers' tongue in the very shadow of the Ka'aba, must +have been supremely horrible to every Mohammedan there. + +"Out, men, and at it!" the major commanded, as he scrambled from the +nacelle, slid and stumbled over the Moslems, and reached hands for the +tools passed out to him. Leclair followed. Men and tools were swiftly +unloaded, leaving only Wallace and Emilio at their guns, as agreed. + +"Faith, but this is some proposition!" grunted the major, as the seven +men trampled over the prostrate bodies, without any delay whatever to +peer at the Haram or the Ka'aba. + +"The stone's there, men, at the south-east corner! Get busy!" + +No exhortation was necessary. Every man, nerved to the utmost energy +by the extreme urgency of the situation, leaped to work. And a strange +scene began, the strangest in all the history of that unknown city of +mysteries. The little troop of white men in uniform stumbled over the +bodies and faces of their enemies along the Ka'aba, past the little +door about seven feet from the ground, and so, skirting the slanting +white base, two feet high, came to the Hajar el Aswad, or Black Stone, +itself. + +Above, in the burning Arabian sky, the air-liner hovered like a +gigantic bird of prey, her gallery-rails lined with motionless +watchers. The Master observed every move through powerful glasses. +Over his ears a telephone headpiece, which he had slipped on, kept him +in close touch with the men in the nacelle, via the steel cable. This +cable formed a strand between East and West; if any evil chance +should break it, life would end there and then for nine members of the +Legion, brave men all. + +That their time was short, indeed, was proved by the vague, hollow +roar already drifting in from the outskirts of the city, and from +the plain whence, crowding, struggling into the city's narrow ways, a +raging mass of pilgrims was already on the move. A tidal-wave, a sea +of hate, the hundred thousand or more _Hujjaj_ as yet untouched by the +strong magic of the Feringi, were fighting their way toward the Haram. + +The time of respite was measured but by minutes. Each minute, every +second, bore supreme value. + +"There she is, men!" the major shouted, pointing. And on the instant, +driving furiously with pick-axe, he struck the first blow. + +Plainly, about three feet below the bottom of the silken veil and four +feet above the pavement, there indeed they saw the inestimably sacred +stone, which every Moslem believes once formed a part of Paradise and +was given by Allah to the first man. To the Legionaries' excited eyes +it seemed to be an irregular oval, perhaps seven inches in diameter, +with an undulating surface composed of about a dozen smaller stones +joined by cement and worn blackly smooth by millions of touches and +kisses. + +It was surrounded by a border of cement that looked like pitch and +gravel; and the major noted, even as he drove his pick into this +cement, that both the stone and the border were enclosed by a massive +circle of gold with the lower part studded full of silver nails. + +Only these hasty observations, and no more, the Legionaries made as +they fell with furious energy to the task of dislodging the venerable +relic. To all but this labor they were oblivious--to the heat and +stifle of that sun-baked square, the mute staring of the paralyzed +_Hujjaj_, the wafting languor of incenses from the colonnades, the +quiet murmur of waters from the holy well, Zem Zem. + +The scene, which ordinarily would have entranced them and filled them +with awe, now had become as nothing. Every energy, every sense had +centered itself only on this one vital work of extracting the Black +Stone from the Ka'aba wall and of making a swift getaway with it +before the rising murmur of rage, from without the area of paralysis, +should sweep in on them with annihilating passion. + +"Here, Emilio--drive your pick here!" commanded the major, his red +face now dark crimson with heat and excitement as well as with the +intense force wherewith he was wielding his implement. Cement flew +in showers at every stroke, out over the sweating Legionaries and the +prostrate Moslems near the stone. The white men slid and stumbled +on limp bodies, trampled them unheedingly, and of the outstretched +pilgrims made as it were a kind of vantage-post for the attack on the +inmost citadel of Islam. + +"Work quick, Major!" came the Master's voice, seemingly at Bohannan's +elbow. "There's a fearful drove of the rascals coming. You'd better +get that stone out and away in double-quick time!" + +The major replied nothing, but his pick-axe flailed into the cement +with desperate energy. Emilio and others seconded him, while Rennes +and Wallace dug, kneeling, with their crowbars. The blows echoed with +staccato rapidity through the sacred Haram, which now had begun to +fill with the confused roar of the on-coming mobs from the Ma'abidah +suburb and the Plain of Mina, from Jebel Hindi and the Sulaymainyah +quarter. + +"You have about five minutes more," the Master spoke again. "If +necessary, we will open on them with machine-guns, from the ship, but +I'd like to avoid bloodshed if possible. Do the best you can!" + +Bohannan had no breath for answering. Every ounce of energy of all +seven men was being flung into that mad labor. Sweat streamed into +their eyes, half blinding them; they dashed it off, and struck again +and again. The cement crumbled and gave; the heavy gold band commenced +to bend; Rennes got his crowbar into an advantageous leverage and gave +a mighty heave. + +The stone seemed to cry aloud, with a dry, harsh screaming sound +of outraged agony, as it yielded. It was only the sundering of +the mortar, of course; but a chill ran up the major's spine, and +goose-flesh prickled all over him. Furiously the Legionaries worked +the stone back and forth; a shower of mortar fell on the workers' feet +and on the upturned, staring faces of the paralyzed Moslems trampled +by the horrible contamination of heretical boots--perhaps even pigskin +boots!--and then, all at once, the Hajar el Aswad slid from the place +where it had lain uncounted centuries. + +Cursing with frantic excitement, the Legionaries tugged it from the +wall, together with its golden band. Above them the _kiswah_ bellied +outward, swaying in the breeze. No Moslem has ever admitted that the +Ka'aba veil is ever moved by any other thing than the wings of angels. +Those of the Faithful who now beheld that movement, felt the avenging +messengers of Allah were near, indeed; and a thousand unspoken prayers +flamed aloft: + +"Angels of death, Azrael and his host, smite these outcasts of +Feringistan!" + +The prayers seemed more likely of fulfilment from the hands of the +oncoming hordes already streaming into the converging streets to the +Haram. As the stone came clear, into the hands of the invaders, a +dank, chill blast of air blew from the aperture against the white +men's faces. It seemed to issue as from a cavern; and with it came a +low, groaning sound, as of a soul in torment. + +A shadow fell across the Haram; the light of the sun was dulled. The +sudden crack of a rifle-shot snapped from the arcade, and a puff of +rock-dust flew from the corner of the Ka'aba, not two feet from the +major's head. + +"Come on, men!" cried the major. "Away!" + +Some latent mysticism had been stirred in him; some vague, half-sensed +superstition. Nothing more natural than that a cold draught should +have soughed from the pent interior of the temple, or that the +air-liner, slowly turning as she hung above the Haram, should with her +vast planes have for a moment thrown her shadow over the square. But +the Celt's imaginative nature quivered as he gripped the stone. + +"You, quick, on the other end!" he cried to Emilio. "You, Lombardo, +steady her! So! Now--to the nacelle!" + +The rifles were opening a lively fire, already, as the men staggered +over the prostrate Moslems, reached the nacelle and with a grunt and +a heave tumbled the Hajar el Aswad into it. They scrambled after, +falling into the shelter of the basket. + +Into the arcade, at the north-east corner and half-way along the +western side, two furious swarms of white-robed _Hujjaj_ were already +debouching, yelling like fiends, firing as they came. The uproar +swelled rapidly, in a swift-rising tide. The Haram grew all a +confusion of wild-waving arms, streaming robes, running men who +stumbled over the paralyzed forms of their coreligionists. Knives, +spears, scimitars, rifles glinted in the sun. + +The whine and patter of bullets filled the air, punctured the +_kiswah_, slogged against the Ka'aba. Lebon and Rennes, turning loose +the machine-guns, mowed into the white of the pack; but still they +came crowding on and on, frenzied, impervious to fear. + +Up rose the nacelle, as the major wildly shouted into the phone. It +soared some forty feet in air, up past the black silken curtain, then +unaccountably stopped, level with the Ka'aba roof. + +"Up! Up!" yelled Bohannan, frantically. The spud of bullets against +the steel basket tingled the bodies of the men crouching against the +metal-work. + +All at once Dr. Lombardo stood up, pick-axe in hand, fully exposed to +rifle-fire. + +"Down, you blazing idiot!" commanded the major, dragging at him with +hands that shook. The doctor thrust him away, and turned toward the +Ka'aba, the roof of which was not three feet distant. + +"The golden spout--see?" he cried, pointing. "_Dio mio_, what a +treasure!" On to the edge of the nacelle he clambered. + +"Don't be a damn fool, Doctor!" the major shouted; but already +Lombardo had leaped. Pick in hand, he jumped, landing on the flat roof +of the temple. + +Ferocious howls and execrations swelled into a screaming chorus +of hate, of rage. Unmindful, the Italian was already frantically +attacking the Myzab. Blow after blow he rained upon it with the sharp, +cutting edge of the pick, that at every stroke sank deep into the +massive gold, shearing it in deep gashes. + +A perfect hail of rifle-fire riddled the air all about him, but still +he labored with sweat streaming down his face all blackened with dirt +and cement. From _Nissr_, far above, cries and shouts rang down at +him, mingled with the sharp spitting of the machine-guns from the +lower gallery. The guns in the nacelle, too, were chattering; the +Haram filled itself with a wild turmoil; the scene beggared any +attempt at description, there under the blistering ardor of the +Arabian sun. + +All at once Dr. Lombardo inserted the blade of the pick under the +golden spout, pried hard, bent it upward. He stamped it down again +with his boot-heel, dropped the pick and grappled it with both +straining hands. By main force he wrenched it up almost at right +angles. He gave another pull, snapped it short off, dragged it to the +parapet of the Ka'aba, and with a frantic effort swung it, hurled it +into the nacelle. + +Down sank the basket, a little, under this new weight. + +The doctor leaped, jumped short, caught the edge of the basket and +was just pulling himself up when a slug caught him at the base of the +brain. + +His hold relaxed; but the major had him by the wrists. Into the +nacelle he dragged the dying man. + +"For the love o' God, _haul up!_" he shouted. + +The basket leaped aloft, as the winch--that had been jammed by a +trivial accident to the control--took hold of the steel cable. Up +it soared, still pursued by dwindling screams of rage, by now futile +rifle-fire. Before it had reached the trap in the lower gallery, +the main propellers had begun to whicker into swift revolution, all +gleaming in the afternoon sun. The gigantic shadow of the Eagle of the +Sky began to slide athwart the hill-side streets to south-eastward of +the Haram; and so, away. + +Up came the nacelle through the trap. The davit swung it to one side; +the trap was slammed down and bolted. Out of the nacelle tumbled the +major, pale as he had formerly been red, his face all drawn with grief +and pain. + +"The damned Moslem swine!" he panted. "Faith, but they--they've killed +him!" He flung a passionate hand at the basket, in which, prone across +the golden spout, the still body of Lombardo was lying. "They've +killed as brave a man--" + +"We all saw what he did, Major," the chief said quietly. "Dr. Lombardo +owed us all a debt, and he has paid it. This is Kismet! Control +yourself, Major. The price of such brave adventure--is often death." + +They lifted out the limp form, and carried it away to the cabin Dr. +Lombardo had occupied, there to wait some opportune time for burial +in the desert. Mecca, in the meanwhile, was already fading away to +north-westward. The heat-shimmer of that baked land of bare-ribbed +rock and naked, igneous hills had already begun to blur its outlines. +The white minarets round the Haram still with delicate tracery as of +carved ivory stood up against the sky; but of the out-raged people, +the colonnades, the despoiled and violated Ka'aba, nothing could any +more be seen. + +Southward by eastward sped _Nissr_; and with her now was departing the +soul of Islam. In her keeping lay three things more sacred than all +else to Mohammedan hearts--Kaukab el Durri, the Great Pearl Star; Ha +jar el As wad, the Black Stone; and Myzab, the Golden Waterspout. + +Awed, silenced, the Legionaries stood there in the lower gallery, +peering into the blood-stained nacelle. Hard-bitten men, all, and used +to the ways and usages of war; yet factors were present in this latest +exploit that sobered and steadied them as never before. + +The Master, still unmoved, merely smiled a peculiar smile as he +commanded: + +"Major, have the stone and the golden spout carried to my cabin. And, +if you please, no remarks!" + +Bohannan picked a few men to fulfil the order. Then he asked and +received permission to retire to the smoke-room, for a pipe and a +quiet half-hour, after having washed the dust and grime of battle +from his hands and face. The major's Celtic nerves needed tobacco and +reflection as they had rarely needed them. + +The Master, climbing up the ladder to the main gallery, left Leclair +and a few off-duty men in the lower one. Two or three approached the +French ace, to hold speech with him about the exploit at the Ka'aba, +but he withdrew from them to the extreme rear end of the gallery and +remained for a long time in silent contemplation of the fading city, +the Plain of Mina, and Mount Arafat, beyond. + +As the vague purple haze of late afternoon deepened to veils that +began to hide even the outlines of the mountain, he leaned both elbows +on the rail and in his own language whispered: + +"_Nom de Dieu!_ The Pearl Star--the Golden Waterspout--the sacred +Black Stone!" His face was white with pride and a fire of eagerness +that burned within. "Why, now we're masters of all Islam--masters of +the treasure-houses of the Orient! + +"_Mais--nom de Dieu!_" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + + +THE ORDEAL OF RRISA + +Alone in his cabin with the waterspout of massive gold and with the +sacred Black Stone, the Master sat down in front of the table where +they had been laid, took a few leaves of khat, and with profound +attention began to study the treasures his _bold coup_ had so +successfully delivered into his hands. + +The waterspout, he saw at once, would as a mere object of precious +metal be worth a tremendous sum. It was of raw gold, apparently +unalloyed--as befitted its office of carrying the water from the roof +of the Ka'aba and throwing it upon Ishmael's grave, where pilgrims +have for centuries stood fighting to catch it. Its color verged +on reddish; all its lateral surfaces were carved with elaborate +arabesques and texts from the Koran. The bottom bore an inscription in +Tumar characters, easily decipherable by the Master, stating that it +had been sent from Constantinople in the year of the Hegira 981, by +Shafey Hanbaly, the Magnificent. + +"A great treasure," pondered the Master. "An almost incalculable +treasure, in itself; but less so, intrinsically, than as an object of +Moslem veneration. In either case, however, enormously valuable." + +He examined it a moment or two longer, noting with care the gashes and +deep cuts made by the frantic strokes of Dr. Lombardo's pick-axe. What +his thoughts might have been regarding the doctor's tragic death, none +could have told. For with a face quite unmoved, he turned now to the +examination of the world-famous Black Stone. + +This object, he saw, possessed no value whatever, _per se_. Aside from +its golden encircling band studded with silver nails, its worth seemed +practically nothing. As it lay on the table before him, he realized +that it was nothing but a common aerolite, with the appearance of +black slag. Its glossy, pitchlike surface, on the end that had been +exposed from the wall, was all worn and polished smooth by innumerable +caresses from Moslem hands and lips. + +"Very hygienic," the Master thought. "If there was ever a finer way +devised for spreading the plague and other Oriental diseases, I can't +very well imagine what it could be!" + +A bit of the stone had been broken off by Leclair's crowbar. The +Master's trained, scientific eye saw, by the brightly sparkling, +grayish section of the break, that iron and nickel formed the chief +elements of the stone. Its dimensions, though its irregular form made +these hard to come by, seemed about two and a half feet in length, by +about seven or eight inches in breadth and thickness. Its weight, as +the Master stood up and lifted it, must have been about two hundred +pounds. No doubt one man could have carried it from its place in the +Ka'aba to the nacelle; but in the excitement of battle, and impeded by +having to stumble over prostrate Moslems, the major had considered it +advisable to ask for help. + +"Mineralogically speaking, this is a meteor or a block of volcanic +basalt," judged the Master. "It seems sprinkled with small crystals, +with rhombs of tile-red feldspath on a dark background like velvet or +charcoal, except for one reddish protuberance of an unknown substance. +A good blow with a hammer would surely break it along the original +lines of fracture--and this is well worth knowing and remembering". + +"Well, so far so good," he concluded. "The Air Control Board hasn't +got us, yet. Neither have the Mohammedans. True, we've lost a number +of men, but that was to have been expected. That's inevitable, and we +still have enough. I hardly see that we have so very much to complain +of, so far." + +He turned, pulled a blanket from his berth and carefully spread it +over the loot on the table. Then he pushed the button communicating +with the cabin wherein Rrisa was still quivering as a result of having +heard the fusillades and the terrific tumult--unseen though they had +been to him--at Mecca. + +In a couple of minutes the faithful orderly appeared, salaamed, and +stood waiting with a drawn, troubled face. + +"_Allah m'a!_" the Master greeted him, in Allah's name inquiring for +his good health. "I have something important to ask thee. Come in. +Come in, and close the door." + +He spoke in Arabic. The orderly, in the same tongue, made answer as he +obeyed: + +"The Master hath but to talk, and it is answered, if my knowledge can +suffice." His words were submissive; but the expression was strange +in his eyes, at sight of the blanket on the table. That blanket might +hide--what might it not hide? The light in his gaze became one the +Master had never yet seen there, not even in the sternest fighting at +Gallipoli. + +"Mecca lieth behind us, Rrisa," the Master began. "Thou hast seen +nothing of it, or of what happened there?" + +"Nothing, _M'alme._ I was bidden remain in my cabin, and the Master's +word is always my law. It is true that I heard sounds of a great +fighting, but I obeyed the Master. I saw nothing. The Sheik Abd el +Hareth, did you deliver him into the hands of the Faithful?" + +"No, Rrisa. They refused to accept him. And now I have other plans +for him. It is well that thou didst see nothing, for it was a mighty +fighting and there was death both to them and to us. Now, my questions +to thee." + +"Yea, Master?" + +"Tell me this thing, first. Is it indeed true speaking, as I have +heard, that the Caliph el Walid the First, in Hegira 88, sent to Mecca +an immense present of gold and silver, forty camel-loads of small cut +gems and a hundred thousand _miskals_ in gold coin?" + +"It is true, Master. Save that he sent more; nearly two hundred +thousand _miskals_. He also sent eighty Coptic and Greek artists to +carve and gild the mosques. + +"One Greek sculptured a hog on the Mosque of Omar, trying to make it +into a _kanisah_ (unclean idol-house). My people discovered the sacrilege, +and"--he added with intent--"gave that Greek the bowstring, then quartered +the body and threw it to the vultures." + +"That is of no importance whatever, Rrisa," answered the Master with +an odd smile. "What thy people do to the unbeliever, if they capture +him, is nothing to me. For--dost thou see?--they must first make the +capture. What I would most like to know is this: where is all that +treasure, now?" + +"I cannot tell you, Master." + +"At Mecca?" + +"No, Master, not at Mecca." + +"Then where?" + +"_M'alme!_ My lips are sealed as the Forbidden Books!" + +"Not against the commands of thy sheik--and I am thy sheik!" + +Rrisa's lips twitched. The inner struggle of his soul reflected itself +in his lean, brown face. At last he aroused himself to make answer: + +"The treasure, Master, is far to the south-east--in another city." + +"Ah! So there _is_ another city far out in Ruba el Khali, the Empty +Abodes!" + +"Yea, _M'alme_, that is so." + +"Then the ancient rumor is true? And it is from near that city that +thou didst come, eh? By Allah's power, I command thee to tell me of +this hidden city of the central deserts!" + +"This thing I cannot do, my sheik." + +"This thing thou must do!" + +"O Master! It is the secret of all secrets! Spare me this!" + +"No Rrisa, thou must obey. Far inside El Hejaz (the barrier), that +city is lying for my eyes to behold. I must know of it. Thy oath to me +cannot be broken. Speak, thou!" + +The Master made no gesture with his hands, did not frown or clench his +fists, but remained impassively calm. His words, however, cut Rrisa +like knives. The orderly remained trembling and sweating, with a +piteous expression. Finally he managed to stammer: + +"_M'alme_, in our tongue we have a proverb: 'There are two things +colder than ice--a young old man and an old young man.' There is still +a colder thing--the soul that betrays the Hidden City!" + +"Speak Rrisa! There is no escape for thee!" + +"My sheik, I obey," quavered the unfortunate orderly, shaken with a +palsy of fear. Without a quiver, the Arab would rush a machine-gun +position or face a bayonet-charge; but this betrayal of his kin struck +at the vitals of his faith. Still, the Master's word was law even +above Al Koran. With trembling lips he made answer: + +"This city--spare me uttering its name, Master!--lies many hours' +journey, even by this Eagle of the Sky, beyond the Iron Mountains that +no man of the Feringi hath ever seen. It lies beyond the Great Sand +Barrier, in a valley of the Inner Mountains; yea, at the very heart of +Ruba el Khali." + +"I hear thee, Rrisa. Speak further. And let thy speaking be truth!" + +"It shall be truth, by the Prophet's beard! What doth the Master ask +of me?" + +"Is it a large city, Rrisa?" + +"Very large." + +"And beautiful?" + +"As the Jebel Radhwa!" (Mountain of Paradise). + +"Thou hast been in that secret city, Rrisa?" + +"Once, Master. The wonderful sight still remaineth in mine eyes." + +"And, seeing the Iron Mountains again, thou couldst guide us thither?" + +"Allah forbid! That is among the black deeds, Master! 'The grave is +darkness and good deeds are its lamps; but for the betrayer, there +shall be no light!' _Wallah, Effendi!_ Do not make me your guide!" + +"I have not said I intended to do so, Rrisa. I merely asked thee +if thou _couldst_!" The Master's voice was silken, fine, penetrant. +"Well, Rrisa, tell me if thou couldst!" + +"Yea, Master. _Ya gharati!_ (O my calamity!) It is true I could." The +words issued from his unwilling throat as if torn out by main force. +"But I earnestly beg of you, my sheik, do not make me do this thing!" + +"Rrisa, if I command, thou must obey me! 'There is only one thing can +ever loose the bonds I have knotted about thee." + +"And that is certainty (death), Master?" + +"That is certainty! But this, to the oath-breaker and the abuser +of the salt, means a place among the _mujrim_ (sinful). It means +Jehannum, and an unhappy couch shall it be!" + +Rrisa's face grew even more drawn and lined. A trembling had possessed +his whole body. + +"Master, I obey!" he made submission, then stood waiting with downcast +eyes of suffering. + +"It is well," said the chief, rising. He stood for a moment peering at +Rrisa, while the hum and roar of the great air-liner's mechanism, the +dip and sway of its vast body through the upper air, seemed to add a +kind of oppressive solemnity to the tense situation. To the cabin +wall the Master turned. There hung a large-scale map of the Arabian +Peninsula. He laid a hand on the vast, blank interior, and nodded for +Rrisa to approach. + +"Listen, thou," said he. "Thy knowledge is sufficient. Thou dost +understand the interpretation of maps, and canst read latitude and +longitude. Mark here the place of the Hidden City!" + +"Of the Bara Jannati Shahr, Master? Ah no, _no_!" + +"So then, that is its name?" the chief demanded, smiling. + +"No, _M'alme_. Thou dost know the Arabic. Thou dost understand this +means only, in thy tongue, the Very Heavenly City." + +"True. Well, let it pass. Very Heavenly City it shall be, till the +real name becomes known. Come now, mark the place of the Hidden City +and mark it truly, or the greatest of sins will lie upon thy soul!" + +The Arab advanced a brown, quivering hand. + +"Give me a pencil, Master, and I obey!" he answered, in a voice hardly +audible. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + + +THE INNER SECRET OF ISLAM + +The chief handed him a pencil. Rrisa intelligently studied the map for +nearly two minutes, then raised his hand and made a dot a few miles +north-east of the intersection of fifty degrees east and twenty +degrees north. The Master's eye was not slow to note that the +designated location formed one point of a perfect equilateral +triangle, the other points of which were Bab el Mandeb on the south +and Mecca on the north. + +"There, _M'alme_," whispered the Arab, in a choking voice. "Now I +have told you the secret of all secrets, and have lost my soul. I have +revealed the inner mystery of Islam, that to this day no man of the +Feringi hath ever known. I am a very great man of sin, and should have +first torn out my tongue. + +"But my life is in your hands, Master, and I have shared your salt. +Allah knows I was forced to speak. _Shal'lah!_ (It is _Allah's_ +will!) Allah will weigh my heart and will forgive, for he is the +Compassionate, the Merciful! I beg you, Master, now let me go!" + +"Soon, Rrisa," the chief answered, turning away from the map. "But +first there is something of highest import I must show thee." + +"And what may that be, my sheik?" the Arab queried, his widening eyes +fixed on the blanket that covered the loot from Mecca. Instinctively +he sensed that some horrible sight was about to be presented to him. +His face paled even more. He licked dry lips with a tongue equally +dry, and leaned against the table to steady himself. "What have you +now to show me, O _M'alme?_" + +"Listen!" the chief commanded sternly. "The Meccans are a people +corrupt and accursed. 'Their hearts are black as their skins are +white.' They live by fleecing the _Hujjaj_, by making sale and barter +of relics, by turning the holy places into marts of trade. All this is +well known throughout Islam. Ah, the degenerate breed of the sons of +the Prophet!" + +"That is true, Master. And what then?" + +"Is it not a fact that they could not even safeguard the Kaukab el +Durri from the hand of the Great Apostate Sheik? How much less, then, +could they protect their other and more sacred things, if some Shiah +dog should come to rob them of the things they value? + +"Would it not be better that such things should be carried far from +danger, to the hidden, inner city? I ask thee this, Rrisa; would it +not be better far?" + +"And what is the meaning of my master's strange words?" ventured +Rrisa, a sort of dazed horror dawning in his eyes. "The other and more +sacred things of Islam--are they there under that cloth, O Master?" + +"Thou hast said it, Rrisa! Now, behold them!" + +With a quick, dramatic gesture, well-calculated to strike at the roots +of the superstitious Arab's nature, he flung away the blanket. To +Rrisa's horrified gaze appeared the Myzab and the sacred Black Stone. + +"_Ya Allah!_" gulped the orderly, in a choking whisper. His face +became a dull gray. His eyes, rimmed with white, stared in terror. His +teeth began to chatter; and on his forehead appeared little glistening +drops. + +"O Master, that is not--." + +"Truly, yea! The Golden Waterspout, Rrisa, and the Black Stone +itself! I am carrying them to the Very Heavenly City, far in the Iron +Mountains! They shall be given to the Great Olema, there, who is more +fit to guard and keep them than the Sheriff of Mecca or than his sons +Feisal and the two Alis. No harm shall befall them, and--" + +"And your hand--the hands of other Feringi who are not my +masters--have touched these things?" stammered Rrisa. "O my calamity! +O my grief!" + +"Thou canst go now, Rrisa," the Master said. "Go, and think well of +what I have told thee, and--" + + +But Rrisa, falling prone to the metal of the cabin floor, facing the +Black Stone, gave vent to his feelings and burst into a wild cry of +"_La Illaha_--" and the rest of the immemorial formula. + +The Master smiled down at him, quizzical and amused yet still more +than a little affected by the terror and devotion of his orderly. +Wise, he waited till Rrisa had made the compulsory prayers of +_Labbayk, Takbir_, and _Tahiti_, as all Moslems must do when coming +near the Black Stone. Then, as the orderly's voice suddenly died away, +he bent and laid a hand on the quivering Arab's shoulder. + +"Come, come, Rrisa," said he, not unkindly. "Be thou not so +distressed. Is it not better that these very precious things be kept +in greater safety at the Jannati Shahr? Come, Rrisa! Arise!" + +The orderly made no move, uttered no sound. The Master dragged him +up, held him, peered into his face that had gone quite ashen under its +brown. + +"Why, Lord! the man has fainted dead away!" exclaimed the Master. He +gathered Rrisa in his powerful arms, carried him to his own cabin and +laid him in the berth, there; then he bathed his face with water and +chafed his hands and throat. + +In a few minutes, Rrisa's eyes vaguely opened. He gulped, gasped, made +shift to speak a few feeble words. + +"Master!" he whispered. + +"Well, what dost thou wish?" + +"One favor, only!" + +"And what is that?" + +"Leave me, a little while. I must be alone, all alone with Allah--to +think!" + +The Master nodded. + +"It shall be as thou wishest," said he. "Think, yes. And understand +that what I do is best for all of Sunnite Islam! As for the Shiah +dogs, what hast thou to trouble about them?" + +Saying no more, he withdrew to his own cabin, wrapped the Myzab and +the Stone in the blanket and laid them carefully under his berth. +Opening his desk-drawer, he assured himself the Pearl Star was still +there. This done, he turned again to the map, carefully studied +the location of the point Rrisa had designated, and--going to the +pilot-house--gave directions for a new course to "Captain Alden," now +at the wheel. + +This course, he calculated by allowing for wind and lateral +drift, would carry _Nissr_ directly toward the site of the still +half-mythical Iron Mountains and the Bara Jannati Shahr. + +He now returned to his cabin, locked himself in and--pondering over +a few khat leaves--passed the remainder of the afternoon sunk in deep +abstraction. + +Evening and night still found him in profound thought, while the giant +air-liner steadily rushed into the south-east, bearing him and the +Legion onward toward dim regions now veiled in purple darkness under +strange stars. + +At nine o'clock he ordered _Nissr_ stopped, and had the body of Dr. +Lombardo sent down with six men in the nacelle, for burial. No purpose +could be served by keeping the body, and all unnecessary complications +had to be dispensed with before the morrow. Lombardo, who had fully +atoned for his fault by having given his life in the service of the +now depleted Legion, was buried in his service-uniform, in a fairly +deep grave on which the Legionaries heaped a great tumulus of sand. +The only witnesses were the Arabian Desert stars; the only requiem +the droning of the helicopters far above, where _Nissr_ hung with her +gleaming lights like other, nearer stars in the dense black sky. + +By ten o'clock, the air-liner had resumed her course, leaving still +another brave man to his last sleep, alone. The routine of travel +settled down again on the ship and its crew of adventurers. + +At half-past eleven, the Master issued from his cabin. All alone, and +speaking with no man, he took a quarter-hour constitutional up and +down the narrow gallery along the side of the fuselage--the gallery +on which his cabin window opened. His face, by the vague light of the +glows in this gallery, looked pale and worn; but a certain gleam of +triumph and proud joy was visible in his dark eyes. + +All about him, stretched night unbroken. Far behind, lay vast +confusions involving hundreds of millions of human beings violently +wrenched from their accustomed routines of faith and prayer, with +potential effects beyond all calculation. Ahead lay--what? + +"It may be glory and power, wealth past reckoning, incredible +splendor," thought the Master, "and it may be ignominy, torture, +death. 'Allah knows best and time will show.' But whatever it may +be--is it completion? The human heart, alone--can that ever be +complete in this world?" + +He bent at the rail, gazing far out into the vague emptiness through +which the air-liner was pushing. + +"Come what may," he murmured, "for tonight, at any rate, it is peace. +'It is peace, till the rising of the dawn!'" + +In a strange mood, still holding no converse with any man, he returned +to the main corridor and went toward his cabin. His way led past the +door of "Captain Alden." There he paused a moment, all alone in the +corridor. The lights in the ceiling showed a strange look in his eyes. +His face softened, as he laid a hand on the metal panels of the door, +silently almost caressingly. + +To himself he whispered: + +"I wonder who she really is? What can her name be--who can she be, +and--and--" + +He checked himself, impatiently: + +"What thoughts are these? What nonsense? Such things are not for me!" + +Silently he returned to his cabin, undressed, switched off the light +and turned into his berth, under which lay the incalculable treasures +of Islam. For a long time he lay there, thinking, wondering, angry +with himself for having seemed to give way for a single moment to +softer thoughts than those of conquest and adventure. + +Gradually the cradling swing, the quivering power of the airship, +lulled his fevered spirit. Sleep won upon him, dulled the excitements +of the past twenty-four hours, sank him into oblivion. His deep, +regular breathing sounded in the gloom of the cabin that contained +the Great Pearl Star, the Myzab, the sacred Black Stone of infinite +veneration. + +An hour he slept. On, on roared _Nissr_, swaying, rising, falling +a little as she hurled herself through the Arabian night toward +the unknown Bara Jannati Shahr, hidden behind the Iron Mountains of +mystery as yet unseen by any unbelieving eye. + +Peace, all seemed peace, for one dark hour. + +But as the hour ended, a shadow fell along the narrow gallery outside +the cabin window. A silent shadow it was, that crept, paused, came on +again. And now in the dark, had there been any eye to see, the shadow +would have been identified as a barefoot man, lithe, alert, moving +silently forward with the soundless stealth of an Arab versed in the +art of _asar_, or man-stalking. + +To the Master's window this shadow crept, a half-invisible thing in +the gloom. It paused there, listening to the deep, regular breathing +within. Then a lean, brown hand was laid on the sill. It still seemed +to hesitate. + +Something gleamed vaguely in that hand--a crooked _jambiyeh_, +needle-sharp at the point, keen-edged and balanced for the stroke that +silently slays. + +Motionless, unbreathing even, the shadow waited a long minute. Then +all at once over the sill it writhed, quick, lithe as a starved +panther. + +Dagger in hand, the shadow slid to the berth where lay the Master of +the Legionaries. There Rrisa paused, listening to the slow respiration +of the White Sheik with whom he had shared the inviolable salt, to +whom he owed life itself. + +Up, in the gloom, came the dagger-blade. + +Over the unconscious Master it poised, keen, cold, avenging in the +dark of the cabin where lay the three supreme treasures of all Islam. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + + +INTO THE VALLEY OF MYSTERY + +The upraised blade, poised for swift murder, did not descend. With a +groan from the heart's core, Rrisa let fall his trembling hand, as +he recoiled toward the vague patch of starlight that marked the cabin +window. + +"_Bismillah_!" he whispered hoarsely. "I cannot! This is my +sheik--'and thrice cursed is the hand that slays the sheik.' I cannot +kill him!" + +For a moment he remained there, pondering. Swift, passionate thoughts +surged through his brain, which burned with fever. In Rrisa's +fighting-blood the supreme battle of his whole existence was +aflame--duty of annihilating the violator of his Faith combating duty +of loyalty absolute to one whose salt he had eaten, to one who had +preserved his life. + +So, in the dark he stood there, a shadow among shadows. He peered +about with white-rimmed eyes, striving to discover where now the Myzab +and the sacred Black Stone might be. The dim bulk of the blanket under +the berth came to his senses. He knelt, touched the blanket, felt the +hard solidity within. + +Torn with anguish of a great conflict, he pondered, smearing the sweat +of agony from his hard-wrinkled forehead. Better was it to fling these +holy things from the cabin window, out into the night? Better the +certainty that the desert sands, far below, would inevitably drift +over them, forever burying them from the sight of his people; or +better the chance that the Master, after all, really intended to +deliver them back into Moslem hands at Bara Jannati Shahr? + +"Allah, oh, guide thy servant now!" the orderly prayed with trembling +lips. "Allah, show thou me the way!" + +The Master, stirring in his sleep, sighed deeply and let his right +hand fall outside the berth. Rrisa, fearful of imminent discovery, +made up his mind with simple directness. He salaamed in silence, all +but brushing the Master's hand with his lips. + +"_Wa'salem!_" (Farewell!) he breathed. Then he got up, turned, laid +his dagger on the table and slid out through the window as soundlessly +as he had come. He crossed the marrow gallery in the gloom, and +mounted the rail beyond which yawned black vacancy. + +For a moment he stayed there, peering down first at the impenetrable +abysses below, then up at the unmoved stars above. The ghostly aura +of light in the gallery showed his face wan, deep-graven with lines, +agonized, ennobled by strong decisions of self-sacrifice. + +"Thou, Allah," he whispered, "dost know life cannot be for both my +Master and thy servant, after what thy servant hath seen. I offer thee +my life for his! Thou wilt judge aright, for thou knowest the hearts +of men and wilt wrong no man by the weight of a grain of sand. Thou +art easy to be reconciled, and merciful! There is no God but Allah, +and M'hamed is his Prophet!" + +With no further word, he leaped. + +Just a fraction of a second, a dim-whirling object plummeted into +space. It vanished. + +As best he understood, Rrisa had solved his problem and had paid his +score. + + +The Master wakened early, with the late May sun already Slanting in +from far, dun and orange desert-levels, gilding the metal walls of his +cabin. For a few moments he lay there, half dreamily listening to +the deep bass hum of the propellers, the slight give and play of +the air-liner as she shuddered under the powerful drive of her +Norcross-Brail engines. + +His thoughts first dwelt a little on yesterday's battle and on the +wondrous treasure now in his hands. Then they touched the approaching +campaign beyond the Iron Mountains in regions never yet seen by any +white man's eye, and for a while enveloped some of the potentialities +of that campaign. + +But "Captain Alden" recurring to his mind, drove away such stern +imaginings. The Master's lips smiled, a little; his black eyes +softened, and for a moment his face assumed something that might +almost have made it akin to those of men who feel the natural passions +of the heart. Never before, in all his stern, hard life, had the +Master's expression been quite as now. + +"Who can she be, I wonder?" he mused. "A woman like that, possessed of +that extraordinary beauty; a woman with education, languages, medical +skill; a woman with courage, loyalty, and devotion beyond compare, +and with all the ardor for service and adventure that any man could +have--who can she be? And--damn it, now! Who am I, to be thinking of +such nonsense, after all?" + +His eyes fell on the table. Something lay there, agleam with the +sunlight flicking blood-red spots from a polished metal surface. What +could this thing be? Surely, it had not lain there, the night before. + +The Master wrinkled heavy brows, focussing his sight on this metal +object. Puzzled, not yet able to make it out clearly, he raised +himself on his elbow and looked with close attention at the mysterious +object. + +Suddenly he leaped from the berth, strode to the table and caught +up--Rrisa's dagger. + +"Allah! What's this?" he exclaimed. "Rrisa--he's been here--and with a +knife?--" + +For a second or two he stood there, staring at the _jambiyeh_ in his +grip. His powerful frame tautened; his thick, corded neck swelled with +the intensity of his emotion as his head went forward, staring. +His jaw set hard. Then with a kind of half-comprehension, he turned +quickly toward the window. + +Yes, there were traces on the sill, that could not be mistaken. The +Master's keen eyes detected them, under the morning sun. He stepped to +his desk, dropped the dagger into a drawer, and pressed the button for +his orderly. + +No one appeared. The Master rang again. Quite in vain. With more +precipitation than was customary with him, he dressed and went to +Rrisa's cabin. + +Its emptiness confirmed his suspicions. Returning along the outer +gallery, a little pale, he reached the railing opposite his own +window. Here a scratch on the metal drew his attention. Closely he +scrutinized this scratch. A hint of whitish metal told the tale--metal +the Master recognized as having been abraded from a ring the Master +himself had given him; a ring of aluminum alloy, fashioned from part +of a Turkish grenade at Gallipoli. + +The Master's face contracted painfully. In his mind he could +reconstitute the scene--Rrisa's hands gripping the rail, his climb +over it, his leap. For a moment the Master stood there with blank +eyes, peering out over the burning, tawny desolation of the great +sand-barrens that stretched away, away, to boundless immensity. + +"Yes, he is surely gone," he whispered. "_Shal'lah! Razi Allahu +anhu!_" (It is Allah's will; may Allah be satisfied with him!) "What +would I not give to have him back!" + +The trilling of his cabin phone startled him to attention. He entered, +took the receiver and heard Leclair's voice from the pilot-house: + +"Clouds on the horizon, my Captain. And I think there is a mountain +range coming in sight. Would you care to look?" + +The Master, very grim and silent, went into the pilot-house. He had +decided to make no mention of what had happened. The suicide must +pass as an accident. He himself must seem to have no knowledge of it. +Morale forbade the admission either of treachery or self-destruction, +for any member of the Legion. + +The sight of vague, pearl-gray clouds on the far south-east horizon, +and of a dim, violet line of peaks notched across the heat-quivering +sky in remotest distances, struck him like a blow in the face. Clouds +must mean moisture; some inner, watered plain wholly foreign to the +general character of the Arabian Peninsula. And the peaks must be the +Iron Mountains that Rrisa had told him about. They seemed to rebuff +him, to be pointing fingers of accusation at him. Had it not been for +his insistence-- + +"But that is all nonsense!" he tried to assure himself, as he took +his binoculars from the rack and sighted at the forbidding, mysterious +range. "Am I responsible for a Moslem's superstitions, or his fanatic +irrationality?" + +The Master's own narrow escape from death disturbed him not at all. +He hardly even thought of it. All he strove for, now, was to exculpate +himself for Rrisa's death. But this he could not do. + +A sense of blood-guiltiness clung about him like a garment--the first +that he had felt on this expedition. His soul, unemotional, practical, +hard, was at last touched and wounded by the realization that Rrisa, +pushed beyond all limits of endurance, had chosen death rather than +inflict it on his sheik. And the thought that the faithful orderly's +body was now lying on the flaming sands, hundreds of miles away--that +it was already a prey to jackals, kites, and buzzards--sickened his +shuddering heart and filled him with remorse. + +"Allah send a storm of sand--_jinnee_ to bury the poor chap, that's +all I can wish now!" he pondered, as he studied the strange yellowish +and orange tints in utmost horizon distances. The air, over the +shimmering peaks, seemed of a different quality from that elsewhere. +To north, to west, the desert rim of the world veiled itself in magic +blue, mysteriously dim. But there, it glowed in golden hues. What, +thought the Master, might be the meaning of all this? + +The Master had no time for speculation. The urgent problem of locating +the Bara Jannati Shahr, beyond that inhospitable sierra, banished +thoughts of all else. He inspected his charts, together with the +air-liner's record of course and position. He slightly corrected the +direction of flight. "Captain Alden" was already in the pilot-house, +with Leclair. The Master summoned Bohannan tersely, and briefly +instructed him: + +"You understand, of course, that we may now be facing perils beyond +any yet encountered. We have already upset all Islam, and changed the +_kiblah_--the direction of prayer--for more than two hundred million +human beings. The 'fronting-place' is now aboard _Nissr_."[1] + +[Footnote 1: So long as the Black Stone was at the Ka'aba, this +building was the only spot in the world where the _kiblah_ was +circular, that is, where Moslems could pray all around it. The +Legion's theft of the stone had completely dislocated all the most +important beliefs and customs of Islam.] + +"The most intense animosity of religious fanaticism will pursue us. +If the news of our exploit has, in any unaccountable way such as +the Arabs know how to employ, reached Jannati Shahr, we are in for a +battle royal. If not, we still have a chance to use diplomacy. A few +hours now will determine the issue. + +"We are approaching what will probably be the final goal of this +expedition; a city beyond unknown mountains; a city that no white man +has ever yet seen and that few have even heard of. What the conditions +will be there no one can tell; but--" + +"Not even Rrisa?" put in the major. "Faith, now's the time, if ever, +to consult that lad!" + +"Correct, for once," assented the Master. With purpose to deceive, +he phoned for Rrisa. No answer coming, he got Simonds on the wire and +ordered him to find the orderly. The investigation thus started would, +he knew, soon bring out the fact of the orderly's disappearance. This +line of action fairly started, he went on formulating his plans: + +"Major, look well to your guns. For once you may have a chance to use +them. I have put my various pieces of apparatus in good condition, +and have improvised some new features. In addition, we have the second +kappa-bomb." + +"But I trust we shall not be driven to a fight. If diplomacy can win, +there will be no bloodshed. Otherwise, our only limit will be the +total destruction of these unknown people, or our own annihilation. +It's a case, now, of win what we are after, or end everything right +there, beyond those mountains!" + +He ascended to the upper port gallery, and concentrated himself on +observation. A certain change in the desert was becoming noticeable, +as the air-liner flung herself at high speed into the south-east. At +times there must be a little rainfall here, or else some hidden source +of water, for a scrub, of dwarf acacia, of camel-grass, and tamarisk +had begun to show. + +But as the black, naked mountains drew near, this gave place to flats +white with salt, to jagged upcroppings of dull, yellowish rock--how +little they then suspected its true nature!--and to detached cliffs +sharp as a wolf's teeth, with strata of greenish schist. + +It was at 9:30 a.m. of May 28, that _Nissr_ tilted her planes and +soared abruptly over the first crags of the Iron Mountains. At a +height of forty-five hundred feet she sped above them, the heat of +their sun-baked blackness radiating up against her wings and body. No +more terrible desolation could be imagined than this rock fortress, +split with chasms and unsounded gorges, where here and there more of +the yellow outcrops showed. No life appeared, not even vultures. For +more than an hour, _Nissr's_ shadow leaped across this utter solitude +of death. + +The Master summoned Leclair, Bohannan, and "Captain Alden," and for +some time gave them careful instructions which none but they were +allowed to hear. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + + +JOURNEY'S END + +All this time, the strange, yellowish sheen against the heavens was +increasing. What might lie beyond the mountains--who could tell? But +that its nature was wholly different from anything any white man ever +had beheld seemed obvious. + +Quite suddenly, at 10:05, the Master's binoculars detected a break far +to southward, in the craggy wall of rock. He ordered _Nissr's_ beak +turned directly thither. Swiftly the Eagle of the Sky held her course, +speeding like an arrow. And now a vast, open plain was seen to be +spreading away, away to indeterminable distances; a plain the further +limits of which veiled themselves in bister and dull ocher vapors. + +The aureate shimmer on the sky kept steadily increasing, from a point +somewhat to the left of _Nissr's_ line of flight. What this might be, +none could guess. None save the Master. More agitated than any had +ever seen him, he stood there at the rail, lips tight, hands clutching +the binoculars at his eyes. + +"By Allah!" the major heard him mutter. "It can't be true--the thing +I've heard. Only a fable, surely! And yet--" + +Now the vast plain was coming clearly to view. It appeared fully +under cultivation with patches of greenery that denoted gardens, +palm-groves, fruit-orchards; all signs of a well-watered region here +at the center of the world's most appalling desert. + +This in itself was a thing of astonishment. But it faded to +insignificance as all at once a far, dazzling sheen burst on the +watchers. Up against the sky a wondrous, yellow blaze seemed to be +burning. Enormously far away as it still was, it filled the heart +of every observer with a strange, quick thrill of wonder, of hope. +Something of wild exultation seemed to leap through the Legionaries' +veins, at sight of that strange fire. + +Leclair glanced at the Master. The dark, taciturn man, for all his +self-control, had set teeth into his lip till the blood was all but +starting. + +On, on swooped _Nissr._ Now the plain was widening. Now, off at the +left, behind the shimmer of the wondrous sight that seemed a fantastic +city of dreams, long black cliffs had become visible--surely some spur +of the Iron Mountains, making to southward at the eastern edge of the +plain. This line of crags faded, in remote distance, into the brown +vapors that ringed the mystic horizon. + +"The city?" asked Bohannan. "That--can't be the city, can it, now? +Faith, if it _is_, we're too late. Damn me, sir, but the whole +infernal place is on fire! Just our rotten luck, eh?" + +The Master made no reply. As if he would devour the place with his +eyes, he was leaning over the rail, boring through those powerful +glasses at the dazzle and bright sheen of the wonder-city now every +moment becoming more clearly visible. + +That it was in truth a city could no longer be doubted. Long walls +came to view, pierced by gates with fantastic arches. Domes rose to +heaven. Delicate minarets, carved into a fretwork of amazing fineness, +pointed their fingers at the yellow shimmering sky. The contrast of +that brilliance, with the soft green gardens and feathery palm-groves +before, the grim black cliffs behind, filled the Legionaries with a +kind of silent awe. + +But most wonderful of all was the metallic shimmer of those walls, +domes, minarets, under the high sun of this lost Arabian paradise. So +amazing was the prospect that, as _Nissr_ hurled herself in over +the last ranges of the mountains and shot out across the open plain +itself, only one man found words. + +This man was Leclair. Close beside the Master, he said in Arabic: + +"I too have heard, my Captain. I too know the story of the Bara +Jannati Shahr--but I have always thought it fable. Now, now--." + +"Faith!" interrupted the major, with sudden excitement. He smote the +rail a blow with an agitated fist. "If that doesn't look like gold, +I'm a--." + +"Gold?" burst out the Master, unable longer to control himself. "Of +course it's gold! And we--are the first white men in all the world to +look on it--the Golden City of Jannati Shahr!" + +Stupefaction overcame the Flying Legion. The sight of this perfectly +incredible city, which even yet--despite its obvious character--they +could not believe as reality, for a little while deprived all the +observers of coherent thought. + +Like men in a daze, they stood watching the far-distant mass of walls, +buildings, towers, battlements all agleam with the unmistakable sheen +of pure metal. The human mind, confronted by such a phenomenon, fails +to react, and for a while lies inert, stunned, prostrate. + +"Gold?" stammered the major, and fell to gnawing his mustache, as +he stared at the incredible sight. "By God--gold? Sure, it can't be +_that_!" + +"It not only can be, but is!" the Master answered. "The old legend is +coming true, that's all. Have you no eyes in your head, Major? If that +shine isn't the shine of gold, what is it?" + +"Yes, but the thing's impossible, sir!" cried Bohannan. "Why, man +alive! If that's gold, the whole of Arabia would be here after it! +There'd be caravans, miners, swarms of--" + +"It's obvious you know nothing of Moslem severity or superstition," +the Master interrupted. "There is no Mohammedan beggar, even starving, +who would touch a grain of that metal. Not even if it were given him. +There's not one would carry an ounce away from the Iron Mountains. +This whole region is under the ban of a most terrific _tabu_, that +loads unthinkable curses on any human being who removes a single atom +of any metal from it!" + +"Ah, that's it, eh?" + +"Yes, that's very much it! And what is more, Major, no word of this +ever gets out to the white races--or hardly any. Nothing more than +vague rumors that barely amount to fairy stories. Even though I forced +Rrisa to tell me the location of this city, he wouldn't mention its +being gold, and I knew too much to ask him or try to make him. Why, +he'd have been torn to bits before he'd have betrayed _that_ Inner +Secret. So now you understand!" + +"I see, I see," the major answered, mechanically. It was plain, +however, that his mind had received a shock from which it had not yet +fully recovered. He remained staring and blinking, first chewing at +his mustache and then tugging it with blunt, trembling fingers. Now +and then he shook his head, like a man just waking from a dream and +trying to make himself realize that he is indeed awake. + +The others, some to a greater degree, some to a less, shared the +major's perturbation. A daze, a numb stupefaction had fallen on them. +The Master, however, soon recalled them to activity. Not much time now +remained before _Nissr_ must make her landing on the plain near the +Golden City. None was to be wasted. + +Vigorous orders set the Legionaries to work. The machine-guns were +loaded and fully manned; several pieces of apparatus that the Master +had been perfecting in his cabin were brought into the lower gallery; +everyone was commanded to smarten his personal appearance. The +psychology of the Oriental was such, well the Master knew, that the +impression the Legion should make upon the people of this wonder-city +could not fail to be of the very highest importance. + +The plain over which _Nissr_ was now sweeping, with the black +mountains left far behind, seemed a fairyland of beauty compared with +the desolation of the Central Arabian Desert. + +"This is surely a fitting spot for the exact geometrical center of +Islam," the Master said to Leclair, as they stood looking down. "My +measurements show this secret valley to be that center. Mecca, of +course, has only been a blind, to keep the world from knowing anything +about this, the true heart of the Faith. The Meccans have been +usurping the Black Stone, all these centuries, and these Jannati Shahr +people have submitted because any conflict would have betrayed their +existence to the world. That is my theory. Good, eh?" + +"Excellent!" the lieutenant replied. "There must be millions of +Mohammedans, themselves, who have hardly learned of this valley. +Certainly, very few from the outside world ever have been able to +cross the Empty Abodes, and reach it. + +"These people here evidently represent a far higher culture than +any other Moslems ever known. Who ever saw a finer city--even not +considering its material--or more wonderful cultivation of land?" + +His eyes wandered out over the plain, which lost itself to sight in +the remote south. Roads in various directions, with here and there +a few white dromedaries bearing bright-colored _shugdufs_ (litters), +showed there was travel to some other inhabited spots inside the +forbidding mountain girdle. + +Here, there, herds of antelope and flocks of sheep were grazing on +broad meadows, through which trickled sparkling threads of water, +half glimpsed among feathery-tufted date-palms. Plantations of fig and +pomegranate, lime, apricot, and orange trees, with other fruits not +recognized, slid beneath the giant liner as she slowed her pace. And +broad fields of wheat, barley, tobacco, and sugar-cane showed that the +people of the city had no fear of any lack. + +Birds were here--pelicans, cranes, and water-fowl along the brooks +and gleaming pools; swift little yellow birds with crownlike crests; +doves, falcons, and hawks of unknown species. Here was life abundant, +after the death of the Empty Abodes. Here was rich color; here arose +a softly perfumed air, balmy, incensed as with strange aromatics. Here +was peace--eternal _kayf_--blessed rest--here indeed lay a scene that +gave full explanation of the ancient name "Arabia Felix." + +And at the left, dominating all this beauty, shone and glimmered in +the ardent sun the wondrous Golden City of Jannati Shahr. + +_Nissr_ had already begun to slant to lower levels. Now at no more +than twenty-five hundred feet, with greatly reduced speed, she was +drifting down the valley toward the city, the details of which +were every moment becoming more apparent. Its size, the wondering +Legionaries saw, must be very considerable; it might have contained +three or four hundred thousand inhabitants. Its frontage along the +black mountains could not have been less than two and a half miles; +and, as it seemed to lose itself up a defile in those crags, no way at +present existed of judging its depth. + +The general appearance was that of stern simplicity. A long wall +of gleaming yellow bounded it, from north to south; this wall being +pierced by seven gates, each flanked by minarets. Behind the wall, +terraces arose, with _mesjid_ (temple) domes, innumerable houses, and +some larger buildings of unknown purpose. + +The powerful glasses on _Nissr_ showed fretwork carving everywhere; +but the main outlines of the city, none the less, gave an impression +of almost primitive severity. No touch of modernity affected it. +Everything appeared immensely archaic. + +"The Jerusalem of Solomon's day," thought the Master, "must have +looked like that--barring only that this is solid gold." + +Out from the city, a little less than two-thirds of the way down, +issued a rather considerable stream. It seemed to come from under the +wall fronting the plain. Its course, straight rather than sinuous, +lay toward the south-west, and was marked by long lines of giant +date-palms and pale-stemmed eucalyptus trees, till it lost itself in +brown distances. + +"Faith, but that looks like lotus-eating, all right," said the major, +notching up his cartridge-belt another hole. "That looks like 'A book +of verses underneath the bough,' with Fatima or Lalla Rookh, or the +like, eh?" He drew at a cigarette, and smiled with sweet visionings of +Celtic exuberance. "A golden city! Lord!" + +"You'll do no dallying 'with Amaryllis in the shade,' in _this_ +valley!" the Master flung at him. "Nor any lotus-eating, either. To +your stations, men! Wake up! Forget all about this gold, now--remember +my orders! That's all you've got to do. The gold will take care of +itself, later. For now, there's stern work ahead!" + +The Legionaries assumed their posts, ready for whatever attack might +come. They still moved like men in a trance. Whether they could quite +even realize the true character of Jannati Shahr seemed doubtful. The +Inca's room of gold stunned Pizarro and his men. How much more, then, +must a whole city of gold numb any concrete thought? + +Down, still down sank _Nissr_, now beginning to circle in broad, +descending spirals, seeking where she might land. The roar of the +propellers lessened; and at the same time, the increasing hum of the +helicopters made itself heard, counterbalancing the loss of lifting +power of the planes, yet gradually letting the air-liner sink. Came, +too, a sighing hiss of the air-intakes as the vacuum-floats filled. + +High noon was now at hand. The sun burned, a copper ball, in the very +forehead of a turquoise sky. A light breeze, lazying over the plain, +stirred the fronded tufts of the date-palms' thick plantations. +Beyond a massy grove, stretching for nearly two miles out from +the northernmost gate of the city, a grassy level quite like a +parade-ground invited the liner to rest. + +As she sank still lower, the Master's glass again picked up the city +wall and ran along it. Here, there, white dots were visible; human +figures, surely--the figures of men in snowy burnouses, on the +ramparts of heavy metal. + +The Master smiled, and nodded. + +"My men think they are surprised," he mused. "What will these Jannati +Shahr men think, when I have opened my little box of tricks and shown +them what's inside?" + +He pressed a button on the rail. A bell trilled in the pilot-house; +another in the engine-room. The Norcross-Brails died to inactivity. + +With a last long swoop, an abandonment of all the furious energies +that for so long had been hurling her over burning sand and black +crag, _Nissr_ slanted to the grassy sward. A sudden, furious hissing +burst out beneath her, as the compressed-air valves were thrown and +the air-cushions formed beneath her thousands of spiracles. Then, with +hardly a shudder, easily as a tired gull slips down into the quiet of +a still lagoon, the vast air-liner took earth. + +She slid two hundred yards on her air-cushions, over the close-cropped +turf, slowed, came to rest there fronting the northern gate of Bara +Jannati Shahr. And the shimmer of those golden walls, one mile to east +of her, painted her all a strangely luminous yellow. + +Journey's end, at last! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + +THE GREETING OF WARRIORS + +Without delay, everything was put in complete readiness for whatever +eventualities might develop. If these strange people meant peace and +wanted it, the Legion would give them peace. If war, then by no means +was the Legion to be unprepared. + +The gangplank was put down from the starboard port in the lower +gallery. The helicopters were cut off. Nothing was left running but +one engine, at half-speed, to furnish current for the apparatus the +Master had decided to use in dealing with the Jannati Shahr folk in +case of need--some of this having been evolved on the run from Mecca. + +Four hampers were carried down the gangplank and set on the grass, +about fifty feet ahead of _Nissr's_ huge beak, that towered in air +over the men like an eagle over sparrows. These hampers contained the +chosen apparatus. Wires were attached, and run back to the ship, and +proper connections made at once by Leclair and Menendez, under the +Master's instructions. + +The machine-guns were dismounted and taken "ashore," to borrow a +nautical phrase. These were set up in strategic positions before the +liner, and full supplies of ammunition both blank and ball were served +to them. + +About a quarter of a mile to north of _Nissr's_ position, one of the +small watercourses or irrigating ditches that cut the plain glimmered +through a grove of Sayhani dates.[1] To this ditch the Master sent two +men in search of the largest stone they could find there. When they +returned with a rock some foot in diameter, he ordered it placed +half-way between _Nissr_ and the palm-grove. + +[Footnote 1: Sayhani (the Crier), so called because one of these palms +is fabled to have cried aloud in salutation to Mohammed, when the +Prophet happened to walk beneath it.] + +These preparations made, the Master lined up his Legionaries for +inspection and final instructions. Standing there in military array, +fully armed, they made rather a formidable body of fighters despite +their paucity of numbers. Courage, eagerness, and joy--still +unalloyed by all the fatigues and perils of the long trek after +adventure--showed on every face. Even through the eyeholes of "Captain +Alden's" mask, daring exultation glimmered. + +The dead, left behind, could not now depress the Legionaries' spirits. +To be on solid earth again, in this wonderland with the Golden City +fronting them, quickened every man's pulse. + +What though they were but a handful, ringed round by grim, jagged +mountains, beyond which lay hundreds of leagues of burning sand? What +though an unknown people of great numbers already had begun to stir +in that vast hive of gold? What though all of Islam, which had already +learned of the sacrilege the accursed Feringi had wrought, was +lusting their blood? Nothing of this mattered. It was enough for the +Legionaries that adventure still beckoned onward, ever on! + +The Master, standing there before them, called the roll. We should +listen, by way of knowing just how the Legion was now composed. It +consisted of the following: Adams, "Captain Alden," Bohannan, Bristol, +Brodeur, Cracowicz, Emilio, Enemark, Frazier, Grison, Janina, Lebon, +Leclair, L'Heureux, Manderson, Menendez, Prisrend, Rennes, Seres, +Simonds, Wallace. All the wounded had recovered sufficiently to be of +some service. The dead were: Travers, who had died on the passage +of the Atlantic; Auchincloss and Gorlitz, burned to death; Kloof, +Daimamoto, Beziers and Sheffield, killed by the Beni Harb; Lombardo, +killed by the Meccans; Rrisa, suicide. + +In addition to these, we must not forget the Sheik Abd el Rahman, +still locked a prisoner in the cabin that for some days had been his +swift-flying prison-cell of torment. + +The Master had just finished checking his roster, when quite without +any preliminary disturbance a crackle of rifle-fire began spattering +from the city. And all at once, out of the gate opposite _Nissr_, +appeared a white-whirling swarm of figures, at the same time that a +green banner, bearing a star and crescent, broke out from the highest +minaret. + +The figures issuing in a dense mass from the gate were horsemen, all; +and they were riding full drive, _ventre a terre_. Out into the +plain they debouched, with robes flying, with a green banner, steel +flashing, and over all, a great and continual volleying of rifle-fire. + +This horde of rushing cavaliers must have numbered between five +and six hundred; and a fine sight they made as the Master got his +binoculars on them. Here, there, a bit of lively color stood out +vividly against the prevailing snowy white of the mass; but for the +most part, horses and men alike came rushing down like a drive of +furious snow across that wondrous green slope between the palm-groves +and the city wall. + +As they drew near, the snapping of burnouses and cherchias in the +wind, the puffs of powder-smoke, the glint of brandished arms grew +clearer; and now, too, the muffled sound of kettle-drums rolled +down-breeze, in booming counterpoint to the sharp staccato of the +rifles. + +Furious as an army of _jinnee_ with wild cries, screams, howls, as +they stood in their stirrups and discharged their weapons toward the +sky, the horsemen of Jannati Shahr drove down upon the little group of +Legionaries. + +The major loosened his revolver in its holster. Others did the same. +At the machine-guns, the gunners settled themselves, waiting the +Master's word of command to mow into the white foam of that insurging +wave--a wave of frantic riders and of lathering Nedj horses, +the thunder of whose hoofs moment by moment welled up into a +heart-breaking chorus of power. + +"Damn it all, sir!" the major exclaimed. "When are you going to rip +into them? They'll be on us, in three minutes--in two! Give 'em Hell, +before it's too late! Stop 'em!" + +Leclair smiled dryly behind his lean hand, as the Master emphatically +shook a head in negation. + +"No, Major," he said. "No machine-guns yet. You and your eternal +machine-guns are sometimes a weariness to the flesh." He raised his +voice, above the tumult of the approaching storm of men and horses. +"I suppose you've never even heard of the _La'ab el Barut_, the +powder-play of the Arabs? They are greeting us with their greatest +display of ceremony--and you talk about machine-guns!" + +He turned, lifted his hand and called to the gunners: + +"No mistakes now, men! No accidents! The first man that pulls a +trigger at these people, I'll shoot down with my own hand!" + +The lieutenant touched the Master's arm. + +"We must give them a return salute, my Captain," he said in Arabic. +"To omit that would be a grave breach of the laws of host and +guest--almost as bad as violating the salt!" + +The Master nodded. + +"That is quite true, Lieutenant," he answered. "Thank you for +reminding me!" + +Once more he turned to the gunners. + +"Load with blanks," he commanded, "and aim at an elevation of +forty-five degrees. Hold your fire till I give the word!" + +"It is well, _Effendi_!" approved the lieutenant, his eyes gleaming +with Gallic enthusiasm. "These are no People of the Black Tents, no +Beni Harb, nor thieving Meccans. These are men of the very ancient, +true Arabic blood--and we must honor them!" + +Already the rushing powder-play was within a few hundred yards. +The roar of hoofs, the smashing volleys of fire, raging of the +kettle-drums, wild-echoing yells of the white company deafened the +Legionaries' ears. + +What a sight that was--archaic chivalry in all the loose-robed flight +and flashing magnificence of rushing pride! Not one, not even the +least imaginative of the Legion, but felt his skin crawl, felt his +blood thrill, with stirrings of old romance at sight of this strange, +exalting spectacle! + +In the van, an ancient horseman with bright colors in his robe was +riding hardest of all, erect in his high-horned saddle, reins held +loose in a master-hand, gold-mounted rifle with enormously long barrel +flourished on high. + +Tall old chief and slim white horse of purest barb breed seemed almost +one creature. Instinctively the Master's service-cap came off, at +sight of him. The lieutenant's did the same. Both men stepped forward, +cap over heart. These two, if no others, understood the soul of +Arabia. + +Suddenly the old Sheik uttered a cry. An instant change came over the +rushing horde. With one final volley, silence fell. The kettle-drums +ceased their booming. Every rider leaned far back in his pearl-inlaid, +jewel-crusted saddle, reining in his horse. + +And in a moment, as innumerable unshod hoofs dug the heavy turf, all +that thundering host--which but a second before had seemed inevitably +bound to trample down the Legion under a hurricane of white-lathered +horses and frenzied, long-robed men--came to a dead halt of silence +and immobility. + +It was as if some magician's wand, touching the crest of an inbreaking +storm-wave, had instantaneously frozen it, white-slavering foam and +all, to motionless rigidity. + +Ahead of all, standing erect and proud in his arabesque stirrups, with +the green banner floating overhead, the chief of this whole marvelous +band was stretching out the hand of salaam. + +"_Fire_!" cried the Master. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + + +BARA MIYAN, HIGH PRIEST + +The crash of six machine-guns clattered into a chattering tumult, +muzzles pointed high over the heads of the Jannati Shahr men. Up into +the still, hot air jetted vicious spurts of flame. + +The Legion's answer lasted but a minute. As the trays of blanks became +empty, the tumult ceased. + +Silence fell, strangely heavy after all that uproar. This silence +lengthened impressively, with the massed horsemen on one side, the +Legionaries on the other. Between them stretched a clear green space +of turf. Behind loomed the vast bulk of _Nissr_, scarred, battle-worn, +but powerful. Away in the distance, the glinting golden walls +shimmered across the plain; and over all the Arabian sun glowed down +as if a-wonder at this scene surpassing strange. + +Forward stepped the Master, with a word to Leclair to follow him but +to stand a little in the rear. The old Sheik dismounted; and followed +by another graybeard, likewise advanced. When the distance was but +about eight feet between them, both halted. Silence continued, broken +only by the dull drone of one engine still running on board the ship, +by the creaking of saddle-leather, the whinny of a barb. + +Lithe, powerful, alert, with his cap held over his heart, the Master +stood there peering from under his thick, dark brows at the aged +Sheik. A lean-faced old man the Sheik was, heavily bearded with white, +his brows snowy, his eyes a hawk's, and the fine aquilinity of his +nose the hallmark of pure Arab blood. + +Hard as iron he looked, gravely observing, unabashed in face of these +white strangers and of this mysterious flying house. The very spirit +of the Arabian sun seemed to have been caught in his gleaming eyes, to +glitter there, to reflect its pride, its ardor. He reminded one of a +falcon, untamed, untamable. And his dress, its colors distinguishing +him from the mass of his followers, still further proclaimed the rank +he occupied. + +His cherchia of jade-green silk was bound with a _ukal_, or fillet +of camel's-hair; his burnous, also silk, showed tenderest shades of +lavender and rose. Under its open folds could be seen a violet jacket +with buttons of filigree ivory. He had handed his gun to the man +behind him, and now was unarmed save for a _gadaymi_, or semicircular +knife, thrust into his silk sash of crimson, with frayed edges. + +A leather bandolier, wonderfully tooled and filled with cartridges, +passed over his right shoulder to his left hip. His feet, high-arched +and fine of line, were naked save for silk-embroidered _babooshes_. + +The Master realized, as he gazed on this extraordinary old man, whose +dignity was such that even the bizarre _melange_ of colors could not +detract from it, that he was beholding a very different type of Arab +from any he yet had come in contact with. + +The aged Sheik salaamed. The Master returned the salutation, then +covered himself and saluted smartly. In a deep, grave voice the old +man said: + +"_A'hla wasa'halan_!" (Be ye welcome!) + +"_Bikum_!" (I give thee thanks!) replied the Master. + +"In Allah's name, who are ye?" + +"Franks," the Master said, vastly relieved at this unexpected amity. +Strange contrast with the violent hostility heretofore experienced! +What might it mean? What might be hidden beneath this quiet surface? + +Relief and anxiety mingled in the Master's mind. If treachery were +intended, in just this manner would it speak. + +"Men of Feringistan?" asked the aged Sheik. "And what do ye here?" + +"We be fighting-men, all," replied the Master. He had already noted, +with a thrill of admiration, the wondrous purity of the old man's +Arabic. His use of final vowels after the noun, and his rejection of +the pronoun, which apocope in the Arabic verb renders necessary in +the everyday speech of the people, told the Master he was listening +to some archaic, uncorrupted form of the language. Here indeed was +nobility of blood, breed, speech, if anywhere! + +"Fighting-men, all," the Master repeated, while Leclair listened +with keen enjoyment and the Legion stood attentive, with the +white-burnoused horsemen giving ear to every word--astonished, no +doubt, to hear Arabic speech from the lips of an unbeliever. "We have +traveled far, from the Lands of the Books. Is it not meritorious, O +Sheik? Doth not thy Prophet himself say: 'Voyaging is victory, and he +who journeyeth not is both ignorant and blind?"' + +The old man pondered a moment, then fell to stroking his beard. The +act was friendly, and of good portent. He murmured: + +"I see, O Frank, that thou hast read the Strong Book. Thou dost know +our law, even though thou be from Feringistan. What is thy name?" + +"Men know me only as The Master. And thine?" + +"_Bara Miyan_ (The Great Sir), nothing more." + +"Dost thou wish us well?" the Master put a leading question. + +"_Kull'am antum bil khair_!" (May ye be well, every year!) said the +old Sheik. The Master sensed a huge relief. Undoubtedly--hard as this +was to understand, and much as it contradicted Rrisa's prediction--the +attitude of these Jannati Shahr folk was friendly. Unless, indeed, +all this meant ambush. But to look into those grave, deep eyes, to +see that furrowed countenance of noble, straight-forward uprightness, +seemed to negative any such suspicion. + +"We have come to bring ye wondrous gifts," the Master volunteered, +wanting to strike while the iron was hot. + +"That is well," assented Bara Miyan. "But never before have the Franks +come to this center of the Empty Abodes." + +"Even Allah had to say 'Be!' before anything was!" (_i.e._, there must +be a first time for everything). + +This answer, pat from a favorite verse of the Koran, greatly pleased +Bara Miyan. He smiled gravely, and nodded. + +"Allah made all men," he affirmed. "Mayhap the Franks and we be +brothers. Have ye come by way of Mecca?" + +"Yea. And sorry brotherhood did the Mecca men offer us, O Sheik! So, +too, the men of Beni Harb. Together, they slew five of us. But we be +fighting-men, Bara Miyan. We took a great vengeance. All that tribe +of Beni Harb we brushed with the wing of Azrael, save only the Great +Apostate. And from the men of the 'Navel of the World'--Mecca--we +exacted greater tribute than even death!" + +The Master's voice held a quiet menace that by no means escaped Bara +Miyan. Level-eyed, he gazed at the white man. Then he advanced two +paces, and in a low voice demanded: + +"Abd el Rahman still lives?" + +"He lives, Bara Miyan." + +"Where is the Great Apostate?" + +"In our flying house, a prisoner." + +"_Bismillah_! Deliver him unto me, and thy people and mine shall be as +brothers!" + +"First let us share the salt!" + +Speaking, the Master slid his hand into the same pocket that contained +the Great Pearl Star, and took out a small bag of salt. This he +opened, and held out. Bara Miyan likewise felt in a recess of his +many-hued burnous. For a moment he hesitated as if about to bring out +something. But he only shook his head. + +"The salt--not yet, O White Sheik!" said he. + +"We have brought thy people precious gifts," began the Master, again. +Behind him he heard an impatient whisper--the major's voice, quivering +with eagerness: + +"Ask him if this place is really all gold! Faith, if I could only talk +their lingo! Ask him!" + +"I shall place you under arrest, if you interfere again," the Master +retorted, without turning round. + +"What saith the White Sheik?" asked Bara Miyan, hearing the strange +words of a language his ears never before had listened to. + +"Only prayer in my own tongue, Bara Miyan. A prayer that thine and +mine may become _akhawat_"[1] + +[Footnote 1: Friends bound by an oath to an offensive and defensive +alliance.] + +"Deliver unto me Abd el Rahman, and let thine _imams_ (priests) work +stronger magic than mine," said the old Sheik with great deliberation, +"and I will accept thy gifts and we will say: '_Nahnu malihin_!' (We +have eaten salt together!) And I will make thee gifts greater than thy +gifts to me, O White Sheik. Then thou and thine can fly away to thine +own country, and bear witness that there be Arabs who do not love to +slay the Feringi, but count all men as brethren. + +"But if thou wilt not deliver Abd el Rahman to me, or test thy magic +against my magic, then depart now, in peace, before the setting of the +sun. I have spoken!" + +"Take him at his word, my Captain!" murmured Leclair. "We can get no +better terms. Even these are a miracle!" + +"My opinion, exactly," replied the Master, still facing Bara-Miyan, +who had now stepped back a few paces and was flanked by two huge +Arabs, in robes hardly less chromatic, who had silently advanced. + +"I accept," decided the Master. He turned, ordered Enemark and +L'Heureux to fetch out the Apostate, and then remained quietly +waiting. Silence fell on both sides, for a few minutes. The Arabs, +for the most part, remained staring at _Nissr_, to them no doubt the +greatest miracle imaginable. Still, minds trained to believe in +the magic carpet of Sulayman and quite virgin of any knowledge of +machinery, could easily account for the airship's flying by means of +_jinnee_ concealed in its entrails. + +As for the Legionaries, their attention was divided between the +strange white host, still sitting astride those high-necked, +slim-barreled Nedj horses, and the luring glimmer of the golden walls. +In a few minutes, however, all attention on both sides was sharply +drawn by the return of the two Legionaries with the Apostate. + +Without ado, the lean, wild man of the Sahara was led, in wrinkled +burnous, with disheveled hair, wild eyes, and an expression of +helpless despair, to where the Master stood. At sight of the massed +horsemen, the grassy plain--a sight never yet beheld by him--and the +distant golden, glimmering walls, a look of desperation flashed into +his triple-scarred face. + +The whole experience of the past days had been a Jehannum of +incomprehensible terrors. Now that the climax was at hand, strength +nearly deserted him even to stand. But the proud Arab blood in him +flared up again as he was thrust forward, confronting Bara Miyan. His +head snapped up, his eyes glittered like a caged eagle's, the fine, +high nostrils dilated; and there he stood, captive but unbeaten, proud +even in this hour of death. + +Bara Miyan made no great speaking. All he asked was: + +"Art thou, indeed, that Shaytan called Abd el Rahman, the Reviler?" + +The desert Sheik nodded with arrogant admission. + +Bara Miyan turned and clapped his hands. Out from among the horsemen +two gigantic black fellows advanced. Neither one was Arab, though no +doubt they spoke the tongue. Their features were Negroid, of an East +African type. + +The dress they wore distinguished them from all the others. They had +neither _tarboosh_ nor burnous, but simply red fezes; tight sleeveless +shirts of striped stuff, and trousers of Turkish cut. Their feet were +bare. + +Strange enough figures they made, black as coal, muscled like +Hercules, and towering well toward seven feet, with arms and hands in +which the sinews stood out like living welts. Their faces expressed +neither intelligence nor much ferocity. Submission to Bara Miyan's +will marked their whole attitude. + +"Sa'ad," commanded Bara Miyan, "seest thou this dog?" + +"Master, I see," answered one of the gigantic blacks, speaking with a +strange, thick accent. + +"Lead him away, thou and Musa. He was brought us by these _zawwar_ +(visitors). Thy hands and Musa's are strong. Remember, no drop of +blood must be shed in El Barr.[1] But let not the dog see another sun. +I have spoken." + +[Footnote 1: Literally "The Plain." This name, no doubt, originally +applied only to the vast inner space surrounded by the Iron Mountains, +seems to have come to be that of Jannati Shahr itself, when spoken +of by its inhabitants. El Barr is probably the secret name that Rrisa +would not divulge.] + +The gigantic executioner--the strangler--named Sa'ad, seized Abd el +Rahman by the right arm. Musa, his tar-hued companion, gripped him by +the left. Never a word uttered the Apostate as he was led away through +the horsemen. But he gave one backward look, piercing and strange, at +the Master who had thus delivered him to death--a look that, for all +the White Sheik's aplomb, strangely oppressed him. + +Then the horsemen closed about the two Maghrabi, or East Africans, +and about their victim. Abd el Rahman, the Great Apostate, as a living +man, had forever passed from the sight of the Flying Legion. + +His departure, in so abrupt and deadly simple a manner, gave the +Master some highly conflicting thoughts. The fact that no blood was +ever to be shed in this city had reassuring aspects. On the other +hand, how many of these Maghrabi stranglers did Bara Miyan keep as a +standing army? A Praetorian guard of men with gorilla-hands like the +two already seen might, in a close corner, prove more formidable than +men armed with the archaic firearms of the place or with cold steel. + +A sensation of considerable uneasiness crept over the Master as he +pondered the huge strength and docility of these two executioners. +It was only by reflecting that the renegade Sheik would gladly have +murdered the whole Legion, and that now (by a kind of poetic justice) +he had been delivered back into the hands of the Sunnites he had so +long defied and outraged, that the Master could smooth his conscience +for having done this thing. + +The direct, efficient way, however, in which Bara Miyan dealt with one +held as an enemy, urged the Master to press forward the ceremony of +giving and taking salt. + +At all hazards, safeguards against attack must be taken. Once more the +Master addressed Bara Miyan: + +"_Effendi_! Our gifts are great to thee and thine. Great, also, is our +magic. Let thine _imams_ do their magic, and we ours. If the magic +of El Barr exceeds ours, we will depart without exchange of gifts. If +ours exceeds thine, then let the salt be in our stomachs, all for all, +and let the gifts be exchanged! + +"Thy magic against our magic! Say, O Sheik, dost thou dare accept that +challenge?" + +The old man's head came up sharply. His eyes gleamed with intense +pride and confidence. + +"The magic of the unbelievers against that of the People of the +Garment!" (Moslems!) cried he. "_Bismillah_! To the testing of the +magic!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + + +ON, TO THE GOLDEN CITY! + +The Spartan simplicity of the proceedings impressed the Master far +more than any Oriental ceremony could have done. Here was the Olema, +or high priest and chief, of a huge city carved of virgin gold, coming +to meet him on horseback and speaking to him face to face, like a man. + +It was archaic, patriarchal, dramatic in the extreme. No incensed +courts, massed audiences, tapestried walls, trumpeting heralds, +genuflexions, could have conveyed half the sense of free, virile power +that this old Bara Miyan gave as he stood there on the close turf, +under the ardent sun, and with a wave of his slim hand gave the order: + +"The magic! To the testing of the magic!" + +Thoroughly well pleased with progress thus far, the Master turned back +to give final instructions to his men and to examine the apparatus. +This was in perfect condition, all grouped with controls centered in +one switchboard and focussing-apparatus so that Brodeur, in charge, +could instantly execute any command. + +Bara Miyan, clapping his hands again, summoned three horsemen who +dismounted and came to him. By the emerald color of their head-fillets +and jackets, as well as by their tonsure, the Master recognized them +as mystics of the class known as _Sufis._ + +That he was about to face a redoubtable test could not be doubted. +Long experience with Orientals had taught him the profundity of their +legerdemain, practically none of which ever has been fathomed by white +men. The Master realized that all his powers might be tried to the +utmost to match and overcome the demonstration of the Jannati Shahr +folk. + +While Bara Miyan stood talking to the three _Sufis_, the Master was in +a low voice instructing his own men. + +"Everything now depends on the outcome of the approaching contest," +said he. "These people, irrespective of what we show them, will +probably evince no surprise. If we allow any sign or word of +astonishment to escape us, no matter what they do, they will consider +us beaten and we shall lose all. There must be no indication of +surprise, among you. Remain impassive, at all costs!" He turned to +Brodeur, and in French warned him: + +"Remember the signals, now. One mistake on your part may cost my +life--more than that, the lives of all the Legion. Remember!" + +"Count on me, my Captain!" affirmed Brodeur. The masked woman, coming +to the Master's side, said also in French: + +"I have one favor to ask of you!" + +"Well, what?" + +"Your life is worth everything, now. Mine, nothing. Let me subject +myself--" + +He waved her away, and making no answer, turned to the Olema. + +"Hast thou, O Bara Miyan," he asked in a steady voice, "a swordsman +who can with one blow split a man from crown to jaw?" + +"Thou speakest to such a one, White Sheik!" + +"Take, then, a simitar of the keenest, and cut me down!" + +The old man turned, took from the hand of a horseman a long, curved +blade of razor-keenness and with a heavy back. The Master glanced +significantly at Brodeur, who knelt by the switchboard with one +steady hand on a brass lever, the other on the control of a complex +ray-focussing device. + +Toward Bara Miyan the Master advanced across the turf. He came close. +For a moment the two men eyed each other silently. + +"Strike, son of the Prophet!" cried the Master. + +Up whirled the Olema's blade, flickering in the sun. The metallic +_click_ of the brass switch synchronized with that sweep; Brodeur +shifted the reflector by the fraction of a degree. + +Bara Miyan's arm grew rigid, quivered a second, then dropped inert. +From his paralyzed hand the simitar fell to the grass. Brodeur threw +off the ray; and the Master, unsmiling, stooped, picked up the blade +and with a salaam handed it back, hilt-first, to the old man. + +Only with his left hand could Bara Miyan accept it. He spoke no word, +neither did any murmur run through the massed horsemen. But the shadow +of a deep astonishment could not quite veil itself in the profound +caverns of the old man's eyes. + +"Strike again, Bara Miyan," invited the Master. "The other arm, +perhaps, may not have lost its cunning!" + +The Olema shook his head. + +"No, by Allah!" he replied. "I know thy magic can numb the flesh, and +it is a good magic. It is strong. But by the rising of the stars--and +that is a great oath--the bullets of our long rifles can pierce thine +unbelieving body!" + +"Then bring six of thy best riflemen and station them a dozen +paces from me," the Master challenged. "Let them look well to their +cartridges. It is not I who load the guns with bullets made of +soft black-lead, as the _Effendi_ Robert-Houdin did long ago to the +confusion of the Marabouts in Algeria. No, let thy men load their +own rifles. But," and his voice grew mocking, "let their aim be good. +Death is nothing, O Bara Miyan, but clumsy shooting means much pain." + +His tone galled the aged Sheik, despite that impassive exterior. Bara +Miyan beckoned, and with a command brought six riflemen from their +horses. + +"Load well, and shoot me this Frank!" exclaimed the Olema. A fire was +burning in his eyes. + +"_Aywa_!" (Even so!) replied one of the riflemen. "Allah will make it +easy for us!" + +"Have no fear, Bara Miyan," another said. "Not so easily shall El Kisa +(the People of the Garment) be overcome by the Feringi!" + +Tension held Arabs and Legionaries, alike. All remained calm, though +had you watched "Captain Alden," you would have seen her fingers +twisting together till the blood almost started through the skin. + +The Master walked a few paces, turned and faced the squad. + +"Ready, men of Jannati Shahr?" asked he, with a smile. + +"We are ready, Unbeliever!" + +"Then fire!" + +Up came the rifles. Brodeur turned a knurled disk, and from one of the +boxes on the grass a sudden, whining hum arose, like millions of angry +hornets. + +"_Fire_!" repeated the Master. + + +Six rifle-hammers fell with dull clicks. Nothing more. + +The Master smiled in mockery. + +"O Bara Miyan," said he, "let thy men reload and fire again! Perhaps +the sweat of a great anxiety hath wet their powder!" + +"Thou must indeed be _Khalil Allah_" (a friend of Allah), he admitted. +"No doubt thou art a great _caid_ in thy own country. It is strong +magic, Frank. But now behold what mine _imams_ can do!" + +The riflemen, disgruntled but still, Arab-like, holding their +impassivity, returned to their horses and mounted again. At another +call of Bara Miyan, three _imams_ came from among the horsemen. They +were dressed alike, in brilliant saffron _gandouras_, with embroidered +muslin turbans from under which hung _daliks_, or sacred plaits of +hair; and each carried a plain white cloth in his hand. + +In complete silence they showed the Legionaries both sides of these +cloths, then spread them on the grass. In not more than two minutes, +a slight fluttering became visible. This increased and grew more +agitated. One by one, the _imams_ gathered up the cloths, opened them +and exhibited three bluish-black birds with vivid scarlet crests. + +The Master nodded. + +"It is an old trick," said he, indifferently. "I have seen hawks, +much larger, come from under smaller cloths even in the great _suk_ +(market-place) at Cairo." + +Bara Miyan made no answer. The _imams_ drew knives from their belts of +plaited goat-hide, and without more ado severed the birds' heads. + +This the Legionaries saw with perfect distinctness. The blood on +the feathers was entirely visible. The bodies quivered. Calmly the +_imams_, with reddened hands, now cut wings and legs from the bodies. +They laid these dead fragments on the blood-stained cloths in front of +them. + +"Let every Frank behold!" exclaimed the Olema. The Legionaries drew +near. The _imams_ gathered up the fragments in the cloths. + +"Now," said the Master, "thine _imams_ will toss these cloths in the +air, and three whole birds will fly away. The cloths will fall to +earth, white as snow. Is that not thy magic?" + +Bara Miyan glowered at him with evil eyes. Not yet had his +self-control been lost; but this mocking of the unbeliever had kindled +wrath. The Master, however, wise in the psychology of the Arab, only +laughed. + +"This is very old magic," said he. "It is told of in the second +chapter of Al Koran, entitled 'The Cow;' only when Ibrahim did this +magic he used four birds. Well, Bara Miyan, command thine _imams_ to +do this ancient magic!" + +The sharp click of a switch on the control-board sounded as the imams +picked up the little, red-dripping bundles. Silently they threw these +into the air and--all three dropped back to earth again, just as they +had risen. + +A growl burst, involuntarily, from the Olema's corded throat. The +growl echoed through the massed horsemen. Bara Miyan's hand went to +the butt of his pistol, half glimpsed under his jacket. That hand +fell, numb. + +"Look, O Sheik!" exclaimed the Master, pointing. The Olema turned; +and there on the highest minaret of gold, the green flag had begun +smoldering. As Brodeur adjusted his ray-focusser, the banner of the +Prophet burst into bright flame, and went up in a puff of fire. + +Only by setting teeth into his lip could the Sheik repress a cry. Dark +of face, he turned to the Master. Smiling, the Master asked: + +"Perhaps now, O Bara Miyan, thou wouldst ask thine _imams_ to plant +a date-stone, and make it in a few minutes bear fruit, even as the +Prophet himself did? Try, if thou hast better fortune than with the +birds! But have care not to be led into committing sin, as with these +birds--for remember, thou hast shed blood and life hath not returned +again, and El Barr is sacred from the shedding of blood!" + +His tone was well calculated to make the lesson sink well to the +Olema's heart--a valuable lesson for the Legion's welfare. But the +Olema only replied: + +"The blood of believers is meant. Not of animals--or Franks!" + +"And wilt thou make further trial with me?" demanded the Master. + +"No, by the Prophet! It is enough!" The Master's soul warmed toward +the honesty of this bluff old Arab. "Thy magic is good magic. Give me +thy salt, Frank, and take mine!" + +The Master signaled to Brodeur as he drew forth his bag of salt. He +stretched it out in his open palm; and all at once, bag, hand, and arm +up to the elbow enveloped themselves in a whirling mist and vanished +from sight, even as the Master's whole body had vanished in the cabin +when Leclair had tried to arrest him. + +The Sheik's eyes grew white-rimmed with astonishment. Vaguely he +groped for the Frank's hand, then let his own fall limp. + +"_Allahu akbar!_" he gasped. + +The Master nodded at Brodeur. The droning of the apparatus ceased, and +again the hand became visible. + +"Faith!" the major's voice was heard. "We've landed half a dozen home +runs, and they've never even got to second!" + +"Come, O Bara Miyan!" the Master smiled. "Now we will put away the +things of magic, and talk the words of men. Here is my salt!" + +The Sheik gingerly accepted a pinch, and with much misgiving put it +into his mouth. He produced salt of his own, which the Master tasted. + +"It is done," said the Master. "Now thou and I are _akhawat. Nahnu +malihin._" (We have eaten salt.) + +"But only from this mid-day till noon of the morrow," the Olema +qualified the bond. + +"Even so! Remember, though, that the salt is now in the stomachs of +all thy people, both here and in the city, as it is in the stomachs of +all my men!" + +"I will remember." + +"And now, O Bara Miyan, I will show thee the very great gifts that I +have brought thee!" + +The Olema nodded, in silence. A great dejection held him and his men. +The Master dispatched half a dozen men for the Myzab and the Black +Stone, also for three sticks of a new explosive he had developed on +the run from the Sahara. This explosive, he calculated, was 2.75 times +more powerful than TNT. + +"Men," said he to the remaining Legionaries, "be ready now for +anything. If they show fight, when they realize we have touched the +sacred things of Islam, let them have it to the limit. If the salt +holds them, observe the strictest propriety. + +"Some of us may go into the city. Let no man have any traffic with +wine or women. If we commit no blunder, in less than twenty-four hours +we shall be far away, each of us many times a millionaire. Watch your +step!" + +The six men returned, carrying the blanket that contained the sacred +things. At the Master's command, they laid the heavy bundle on the +grass before the Olema and his beaten men. + +"Behold!" cried the Master. "Gifts without price or calculation! Holy +gifts rescued from unworthy hands, to be delivered into the hands of +True Believers!" + +And with swift gestures he flung back the enveloping folds of the +blanket, as if only he, the Master, could do this thing. Then, as the +Myzab and the Stone appeared, he drew from his pocket the Great Pearl +Star, and laid that also on the cloth, crying in a loud voice: + +"O, Bara Miyan, and people of Jannati Shahr, behold!" + +An hour from that time, the Master and seventeen of the Legionaries +were on their way to the City of Gold. + +The stupefaction of the Arabs, their prostrations, cries, prayers +would delay us far too long, in the telling. But the Oath of the Salt +had held; and now reward seemed very near. + +There could be no doubt, the Master reflected as he and his men +galloped on the horses that had been assigned to them, with the +white-robed and now silent horde, that the reward--in the form of +exchange gifts--would be practically anything the Legionaries might +ask and be able to carry away. + +Treachery was now not greatly to be feared. Even had the salt not +held, fear of the explosive would restrain any hostile move. One stick +of the new compound, exploded at a safe distance by wireless spark, +had utterly demolished the stone which had been brought from the +watercourse. + +The plain statement given Bara Miyan that the Myzab and the Black +Stone must be left on the grass until the Feringi had again flown away +toward their own country, had duly impressed the Arabs. They had seen +two sticks of the explosive laid on the holy objects, and well had +understood that any treachery would result in the annihilation of the +most sacred objects of their faith. + +The Master felt, as well he might, that he absolutely held the whip +hand of the Jannati Shahr people. Elation shone in his face and in the +faces of all. The problem now had simplified itself to just this: +What weight of jewels and of gold could _Nissr_, by jettisoning every +dispensable thing, whatsoever, carry out of El Barr, over the Iron +Mountains and the Arabian Desert, back to the civilization that would +surely make peace with the Legion which would bring such incalculable +wealth? + +Even the Master's level head swam a little, and his cool nerves +tingled, as he sat on his galloping white horse, riding beside the +Olema, with the thunder of the rushing squadrons--Arabs and his own +men--like music of vast power in his ears. + +He did not, however, lose the coldly analytic faculty that weighed +all contingencies. The adventure still was critical; but the scales +of success seemed lowering in favor of the Legion. The feel, in his +breast pocket, of the leather sack containing Kaukab el Durri, which +he had again taken possession of after the magic tests, gave added +encouragement. This, the third gift, was to be delivered only at the +last moment, just before _Nissr_ should roar aloft. + +"I think," reflected the Master, "the Pearl Star is an important +factor. It certainly will put the final seal of success on this +extraordinary bargain." + +While his thoughts were busy with the pros and cons of the +soul-shaking adventure now coming to its climax, his eyes were busy +with the city wall and towers every moment closer, closer still. + +The Master's knowledge of geology gave him the key to the otherwise +inexplicable character of Jannati Shahr. This gold, in incredible +masses, had not been mined and brought hither to be fashioned into a +great city. + +Quite the contrary, it formed part of the cliffs and black mountains +themselves. Some stupendous volcanic upheaval of the remote past had +cleft the mountain wall, and had extruded through the "fault" a huge +"dyke" of virgin metal--to use technical terms. This golden dyke, two +and a half to three miles wide and of undeterminable length and +depth, had merely been formed by strong, cunning hands into walls, +battlements, houses, mosques, and minarets. + +It had been carved out _in situ_, the soft metal being fashioned with +elaborate skill and long patience. Jannati Shahr seemed, on a larger +scale and a vastly more magnificent plan, something like the hidden +rock-city of Petra in the mountains of Edom--a city wholly carved by +the Edomites out of the solid granite, without a single stone having +been laid in mortar. + +Wonderful beyond all words as the early afternoon sun gleamed from +its broad-flung golden terraces and mighty walls--whereon uncounted +thousands of white figures had massed themselves--the "Very Heavenly +City" widened to the Legionaries' gaze. + +On, up the last slope of the grassy plain the rushing horsemen bore. +Into a broad, paved way they thundered, and so up, on, toward the +great gate of virgin gold now waiting to receive them. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + + +INTO THE TREASURE-CITADEL + +Well might those Legionaries who had been left behind to protect Nissr +and the sacred gifts have envied the more fortunate ones now sweeping +into Jannati Shahr. The rear guard, however, formed no less essential +a part of the undertaking than the main body of the Legion. + +This rear guard consisted of Grison, Menendez, Prisrend, Frazier, +and Manderson. Their orders were as follows: If the main body did not +return by midnight, or if sounds of firing were heard from the city, +or again if they received direct orders via the Master's pocket +wireless, they were at once to load the machine-guns on board the +liner. They were to carry Myzab on board, also, and with the wireless +spark detonate the explosive which would reduce the Black Stone to +dust. + +This accomplished, they were to start the engines and, if possible, +make a getaway--which might be feasible for five men. If they +succeeded, they were to wheel over the city and drop the second +kappa-bomb, also all the remaining explosive, by way of punitive +measures. Well-placed hits might wipe out most of the city and, with +it, the population which had broken the Oath of the Salt. + +The main body of the Legion would, of course, also perish in this +_debacle_ if still alive; but the probability existed that before +Nissr could take the air, all would be dead. + +The program was explicit. All five men of the rear guard fully +understood its every detail and all had sworn to carry it out to the +letter. Their morale remained perfect; their discipline, under the +command of Grison--left alone as they were in the midst of potentially +hostile territory and with overwhelming masses of Mohammedans close +at hand--held them as firmly as did that of the advance guard now +whirling up the wide, paved road to the gleaming gate of Jannati +Shahr. + +This band of hardy adventurers, stout-hearted and armed with +service-revolvers, remained rather closely grouped, with the Arabs +flanking and following them. At their head rode old Bara Miyan with +the Master, who well bestrode his saddle with burnished metal peaks +and stitching of silver thread. After them came the three _imams_, +Major Bohannan, Leclair, and "Captain Alden." + +The "captain's" mask seemed somewhat to impress the Arabs, who +whispered among themselves concerning it. But not one suspected the +sex of this Frank. The "captain" rode as gallantly as any, and with a +firm hand reined her slim, white horse. + +As the on-thundering swarm of horsemen approached the pointed arch, +some sixty feet wide by ninety high, its intaglios and complex +arabesques flashing with millions of sunlit sparkles, a clear, +sustained chant drifted out over city and plain--the cry of some +unseen muezzin, announcing news of great import to Jannati Shahr. Came +an echoing call of trumpets, from far, hidden places in the city; and +kettle-drums boomed with dull reverberation. + +"_Labbayk_, _Allahuma_!" shouted Bara Miyan, announcing with praise +to Allah his entrance into the City of Gold. A long, great shouting +answered him from the massed thousands of white figures on the walls. + +The Master saw innumerable dark faces peering down from snowy +burnouses and haiks. He saw the gleam of steel. Not one of the figures +on the wall was veiled. Not one woman, therefore, had as yet been +permitted to leave the perfumed dimness of the harems, even for this +stupendous event in the city's history. So far as the Master could +judge, Captain Alden, lithely galloping close behind him, was the only +woman visible in all that multitude. + +With a bold clatter of hoofs, now loudly echoed and hurled back by +the walls, the cavalcade burst up to the city like the foam-crest of +a huge, white wave. For a moment, as the Master's horse whirled him in +under the gate, he cast a backward glance at the plain and along the +battlements. + +That glance showed him a small, white-clad band of Arabs trudging +afoot over the green expanse--the men who, dismounting, had given +their horses to the Legionaries. It showed him the pinions of _Nissr_ +gleaming like snow on the velvet plain; showed him, too, the vast +sweep of the city's walls. + +Those walls, no less than a hundred feet high, were cunningly +loopholed for defense. They presented a slightly concave facade to the +plain, and slanted backward at about the angle of the Tower of Pisa. + +Through their aureate glimmer, dazzling in the direct rays of the +sun now well past its meridian, a glimpse of a flashing river +instantaneously impressed itself on the Master's sight, with cascading +rapids among palm-groves, as it foamed from beneath the city walls. +Then all was blotted out by the gleaming side of the stupendous +archway. + +Up into a broad thoroughfare that rose on a steep slant--a +thoroughfare very different from the usual narrow, tortuous alleys of +Arabian cities--the swarm of horsemen swept, with a dull clatter of +hoofs on the soft yellow pavement that gave almost like asphalt. The +utter lack of any ruts well proved that wheeled vehicles were here +unknown. Nothing harder than unshod horses, than goats and sheep, and +the soft pads of camels had ever worn these gleaming ways. + +The brush of a Verestchagin, a Gerome, a Bida, skilled in the colors +of the Orient, would have been needed to paint even an impressionistic +_coup d'oeil_ of this scene surpassing strange, now opening out before +the Legionaries' eyes. Its elements were golden houses with door and +window-frames of cedar, sandal, and teak; fretwork golden balconies +overhanging streets and gardens where delicate palm-fronds +swayed--balconies whence no doubt kohl-tinted eyes of women were +peering at the strange men in khaki, as henna-dyed fingers pulled +aside silken curtains perfumed with musk and jasmine; mosques and +minarets carven of the precious metal; dim streets, under striped silk +awnings; a world of wonder to the Legion. + +The Master saw, as the cavalcade swept along at unabated swiftness, +glimpses of terraced roofs and cupolas tiled with blue and peacock +hues; open-fronted shops hewn out of the all-present gold and +displaying wares whereof the purchase-price could not be imagined +since gold was everywhere; bazaars heaped with _babooshes_, +_cherchias_, and robes of muslin, wool and silk, with fruits and +flowers, tobacco, spices, sweetmeats, and perfumes, and with strange +merchandise unknown. + +He caught swift vision of a wide _mirbad_, or open court for drying +dates; and then, through a low, golden arch, a camel-yard with a +vast number of kneeling, white dromedaries. And everywhere he saw +innumerable hosts of the people of Jannati Shahr. + +The streets themselves were clear of people as the cavalcade thundered +on and on with many turnings; but every doorway, shop, arch, roof, +terrace, and tower was packed with these silent, white-clad folk, +bronze-faced and motionless, all armed with pistols, rifles, and cold +steel. + +What some poet has called "a joyous fear" thrilled the Legion. No, +not fear, in the sense of timidity, but rather a realization of the +immense perils of this situation, and an up-springing of the heart to +meet those perils, to face and overcome them, and from out their very +maw to snatch rewards beyond all calculation. + +Even the Master himself, tempered in the fires of war's Hell, sensed +this tremendous potentiality of death as the tiny handful of white men +galloped on and on behind Bara Miyan. Here the Legion was, hemmed and +pent by countless hordes of fanatics whom any chance word or look, +construed as a religious insult, might lash to fury. Five men remained +outside. The rest were now as drops of water in a hostile ocean. In +the Master's breast-pocket still lay Kaukab el Durri--and might not +that possession, itself, be enough to start a jihad of extermination? + +Was not the fact of unbelieving dogs now for the first time being in +the Sacred City--was not this, alone, cause for a massacre? What, in +sober reason, stood between the Legion and death? Only two factors: +first, the potential destruction of the Myzab and the Black Stone +in case of treachery; and second, two tiny pinches of salt exchanged +between the Master and old Bara Miyan! + +The situation, calmly reviewed, was one probably never paralleled in +the history of adventure--more like the dream of a hashish-smoking +addict than cold reality. + +Very contending emotions possessed the hearts of the Legionaries, in +different reactions to their diverse temperaments. Only a vast +wonder mirrored itself in some faces, a kind of numb groping after +comprehension, a failure to believe such a thing possible as a city of +pure and solid gold. + +Others showed more critical interest, appreciation of the wonderful +artistic effects of the carven gold in all its architectural +developments under the skilled chisels of the Jannati Shahr folk. + +Still others manifested only greed. The eyes of such, feverishly +devouring walls, cornices, pillars, seemed to say: + +"God! If we only had the smallest of these things, what a fortune that +would mean! What an incredible fortune!" + +Each man, reacting under the overwhelming stimulus of this wonder +city, in his own expression betrayed the heart and soul within him. +And thus, each absorbed in his own thoughts and dreams, silently the +Legionaries pondered as they galloped through the enchanted streets. + +Some fifteen minutes' riding, with no slackening of the pace and +always on an upward grade toward what seemed the central citadel of +Jannati Shahr, brought the party to an inner wall, forty feet high +and pierced by a triple-arched gate surmounted by a minaret of golden +lacery. + +Through the center arch rode Bara Miyan, now reining into a canter. +The _imams_ and the Legionaries followed, and with them about fifty +of the Arabs, of superior rank. The rest drew rein outside, still in +complete silence. + +The lessened cavalcade now found itself in what at first glance seemed +an enchanted garden. Not even a feeling of anxiety caused by the +silent closing of the hugely massive golden gates that, as they +passed through, immediately blocked the triple exit, could divert the +Legionaries' minds from the wondrous park confronting them. + +Date and cocoa-palms with shadowy paths beneath them; clear rills with +bamboo thickets along their banks and with tangles of white myrtle, +red clouds of oleanders that diffused an almond perfume, delicate +hybiscus, and unknown flowers combined to weave a magic woof of +beauty, using the sifted sunlight for gold threads of warp. + +Unseen water-wheels splashed coolly; vivid butterflies flickered +through masses of greenery among the acacia, mimosa, lote and mulberry +trees. And there were color-flashing parrots, too, a-wing and noisy +in the high branches; and apes that swung and chattered; and round the +high, golden walls of the citadel, half visible through the cloud of +green and party-colored foliage, whirls of pigeons, white as snow, +flicked against the gold. + +The Legionaries were hard put to it to obey the Master's order never +to express surprise or admiration. But they kept silence, though their +eyes were busy; and presently through another smaller gate they all +clattered into a _hosh_, or court, facing what obviously must have +been the central citadel of Jannati Shahr. + +Bara Miyan pulled sharply on the red, silver-broidered reins and +cut back the frothing lip of his barb. With a slide almost on its +haunches, along the soft, golden pavement, the horse came to a +quivering stand. All halted. And for a moment, the stamping of the +high-nerved horses' hoofs echoed up along the tall citadel with its +latticed windows and its machicolated parapet a hundred and fifty feet +in air. + +"Well ridden, O Frank! Well ridden by thee and by all thy men +of Feringistan!" exclaimed Bara Miyan, with what seemed real +friendliness, as he sat there on his high saddle, gravely stroking his +beard. "It was a test for thee and thine, to see, by Allah! if the men +of the unbelieving nations be also men like us of Araby! + +"We of the Empty Abodes are 'born on horseback.' But ye, white as the +white hand of Musa (Moses) have houses that, so I have heard, move on +iron roads. And I see now ye have flying houses. Wherefore horses are +not dear to you, as to us. But I see that ye can ride like men. Well +done! _Salaam_!" + +The Master returned a "_Bikum!_" of thanks. He would have been glad +to wipe his forehead, streaming with sweat; and so, too, would the +others. But pride restrained them. Not for them such weakness as the +use of a handkerchief, in presence of these half-hundred grave-eyed, +silently observing men of Jannati Shahr. + +"Faith, though," the major whispered to "Captain Alden," close behind +him, "of all ways to take a walk, my favorite way _not_ to is on an +Arab horse with a saddle like the Inquisition! Tomorrow, oh, my poor +bones, tomorrow!" + +Bara Miyan was speaking again, while the Master, Leclair, and +his orderly, Lebon--who alone of the Legionaries understood +Arabic--listened closely. + +"Now that we have eaten salt and are _akhawat_ brethren," said he, "we +must break bread together. Let thyself and all thy men partake of food +with us, O Frank! Then we will speak of the present, we shall bestow +on thee. _Bismillah!_ Dismount, White Sheik, and enter!" + +The Master bowed, and swung himself from his horse. All did the same, +Legionaries and Arabs alike. And for a moment they stood there in the +sunlight before the long colonnade that occupied the lower story +of the citadel; while from beneath that colonnade issued a dozen or +fifteen of the black, muscular Maghrabi men, two of whom--in the +role of official stranglers--they had already seen. These powerful +half-savages took the horses away, the hoofs clacking hollowly on the +golden pavement. + +Bara Miyan led the way in under the colonnade, which, though of gold +like all else in this, wonder city, still offered grateful shade. +The perpetual glare of the golden roadways, houses, towers, +balconies--even covered as many were with floating curtains of muslin +or silk--had been trying to eyes and nerves. Infinitely preferable +would stone or wood have been, for dwellings; but as Jannati Shahr +was, so the Legion had to take it. And doubtless long generations of +familiarity with it had made it wholly normal, pleasant, and innocuous +to these super-Arabs. + +The Jannati Shahr men began kicking off their _babooshes_ and sliding +their naked feet into light slippers, rows upon rows of which stood +under the portico. The Master and Leclair quickly put off their +shoes and took slippers; the others followed suit. But not without +unwillingness did the Master make the change. + +"This will put us at a very serious disadvantage," thought he, "in +case it comes to fighting. These people are used to going almost +barefooted. We are not. Still, there's no help for it. But I'd like +infernally well to keep my shoes!" + +All he said was: + +"Remember now, men, no women and no wine! If this city is like the +usual Arab towns, there will be neither in sight. But if not, +and temptations arise, remember my orders! No drop of any kind of +liquor--and no flirtation. I'll deal summarily with any man who +forgets himself. There's everything at stake now, in the next hour or +two. We can't jeopardize it all for any nonsense!" + +The major groaned, inwardly. Thirsts were on his Celtic soul that +longed for dalliance with the Orient; but he well knew that tone of +voice, and sadly resigned himself to abstinence. + +"Keep your revolvers loose in the holsters, men," the Master added, +as Bara Miyan gestured toward the slowly opening entrance of the +citadel--a massive door as all doors seemed in Jannati Shahr; a +door of gold reinforced with huge teak beams. "Watch for any sign +of treachery, but don't shoot until I give the order. Then, shoot to +kill! And whatever you do, stick together. Don't separate, no matter +what the provocation! Now, follow me!" + +A strange feeling of anxiety, almost of fear, had taken hold on the +Master's heart. This fear was not in the least for himself or any +of the men. Hard-bitted adventurers all, they had gone into this +expedition with their eyes open, well knowing that some must +inevitably die before its close. They had gambled at dice with Fate; +and, losing, could have no complaint. + +It was all for "Captain Alden" that the Master's anxiety was now +awakened. Here was a woman, not only exposed to risks of death, but +also of capture by Orientals--and what it might mean to a white woman +to be seized for some hidden harem in Jannati Shahr the Master knew +only too well. He found a moment's pause to speak in a low tone to the +"captain," unheard by any of the others. + +"Remember the mercy-bullet!" said he. "If anything happens and there's +any risk of capture--remember, the last one for yourself!" + +"If the worst comes," she whispered, "we can at least share death +together!" + +He gazed at her a moment, not quite fathoming her words, but with an +inexplicable tightening round the heart. + +"We can at least share death together!" + +Why should those words so powerfully affect him? What were these +uncomprehended, new emotions stirring in his hard soul, tempered by +war and by unnumbered stern adventurings? + +The Master had no skill in self-analysis, to tell him. Leader of +others, himself he did not understand. But as that night aboard Nissr, +when he had laid a hand on the woman's cabin door, something unknown +to him seemed drawing him to her, making her welfare and her life +assume a strange import. + +"Come, O Frank!" Bara Miyan was saying. The Olema's words recalled the +Master to himself with a start. "Such food and drink as we men of El +Barr have, gladly we share with thee and thine!" + +The old man entered the dark doorway of the citadel, noiselessly in +soft sandals. Beside him walked the Master; and, well grouped and +flanked and followed by the Arabs in their white robes--all silent, +grave, watchful--the Legion also entered. + +Behind them once more closed the massive doors, silently. + +The eighteen Legionaries were pent in solid walls of metal, there in +the heart of a vast city of fighting-men whose god was Allah and to +whom all unbelievers were as outcasts and as pariah dogs--anathema. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + + +THE MASTER'S PRICE + +A dim and subtly perfumed corridor opened out before them, its walls +hung with tapestries, between which, by the light of sandal-oil +_mash'als_, or cressets, the glimmer of the dull-gold walls could be +distinguished. + +Pillars rose to the roof, and these were all inlaid with +mother-of-pearl, with fine copper and silver arabesques of amazing +complexity. Every minutest architectural detail had been carved out of +the solid gold dyke that had formed the city; nothing had been added +to fill out any portion. The imagination was staggered at thought of +the infinite skill and labor required for such a task. The creation of +this city of El Barr seemed far beyond the possible; yet here it was, +all the result of the graver's chisel.[1] + +[Footnote 1: If any reader doubts the existence of El Barr, as a city +of gold carved from a single block, on the ground that such a work +would be impossible, I refer him to an account of Petra, in the +_National Geographic Magazine_ for May, 1907. Petra, in all details, +was carved from granite--a monolithic city.] + +Blase as the Legionaries were and hardened to wonders, the sight of +this corridor and of the vast banquet-hall opening out of it, at the +far end, came near upsetting their aplomb. The major even muttered an +oath or two, under his breath, till Leclair nudged him with a forceful +elbow. + +Not thus must Franks, from Feringistan, show astonishment or +admiration. + +"May the peace be upon thee," all at once exclaimed Bara Miyan, +gesturing for the Master to enter the vast hall. "Peace, until the +rising of the day!" + +"And upon thee, the peace!" the Master answered, with the correct +Arabic formula. They entered, and after them the other Legionaries and +the sub-chiefs of Jannati Shahr. + +The banquet-hall was enormous. The Master's glance estimated it as +about two hundred and fifty feet long by one hundred and seventy-five +wide, with a height from golden floor to flat-arched roof of some one +hundred and twenty-five. Embroidered cloths of camel's-hair and silk +covered the walls. Copper braziers, suspended from the pillars, sent +dim spirals of perfumed smoke aloft into the blue air. + +About sixty feet from the floor, a row of clerestory windows, +unglazed, admitted arrows of sunlight through a golden fretwork; and +these arrows, piercing the incense vapor, checkered intricate patterns +on the enormous, deep-piled Persian rugs of rose, lilac, and misty +blue. + +Tables and chairs, of course, there were none. A _dakkah_, or +platform, in horseshoe shape, at the far end, covered with rugs and +cushions, and with water-jars, large copper fire-pans, coffee-pots of +silver, and _shishahs_ (water-pipes) told where the feast was to be +offered. + +From a side door, as a silken curtain was drawn back, some fifteen +slave-girls entered--whiter than their masters and in tight jackets +and loose, silk trousers. These girls brought copper basins of +rose-water for the Arabs' "lesser ablution" before a meal. Bara Miyan +smiled slightly as he gestured the Legionaries also to wash hands and +faces; but the Master, little relishing the idea of using this same +water after the Arabs, shook his head. + +Not thus slyly could the Olema inflict humiliation on unbelievers. A +hard look crept into the Master's eyes. This covert insult, after the +exchange of salt, boded very ill. + +In silence the Legionaries watched the Arabs dry their hands and +faces on towels given them by the slave-girls, who then noiselessly +withdrew. All the Arabs prostrated themselves and prayed. The Master +was the only one who noticed one significant fact: that now the +_kiblah_, or direction of prayer, was not to the north-west, where lay +Mecca, but--judging by the sun--was almost due west, toward the spot +where lay the Black Stone. This reassured him once more. + +"They recognize the Stone, right enough," thought he. "As long as +nothing happens to that, we hold the whip-hand of them. Our only real +danger is that something _might_ happen to it. But a few hours, now, +will end all this. And in a few hours, what can happen?" + +The Arabs ceased their droning supplications to Allah, which had been +rising with hypnotically soothing murmurs through the incensed air, +and now followed Bara Miyan toward the raised platform. The old Sheik +beckoned his guests. All disposed themselves comfortably among the +cushions. The Legionaries ignored what seemed a disposition on +the part of the Arabs to separate them--to scatter them along the +platform. + +"Keep together, men," the Master commanded. "Group yourselves closely +here, in the middle. Say nothing. Watch everything. Make no move +without specific orders. If it comes to a fight, and I am killed, +Leclair will command you. His knowledge of Arabic temporarily ranks +him above Bohannan. Don't shoot unless it comes to hard necessity; but +if you do shoot, make every bullet count--and save the last one for +yourselves!" + +Bara Miyan clapped his hands. Through two arched doorways, to right +and left, entered a silent file of the huge, half-naked Maghrabi +men. All were unarmed; but the muscles of their heavy shoulders, the +gorilla-like dangle of their steel-fingered hands produced an effect +more ominous even than the gleam of simitars in the dim cressets' +light would have been. + +Along the walls these black barbarians disposed themselves, a full +hundred or more, saying nothing, seeming to see nothing, mere human +automata. Bohannan, seated cross-legged between Captain Alden and the +Master, swore an oath. + +"What are these infernal murderers here for?" growled he. "Ask the +Sheik, will you? I thought you and he had eaten salt together! If this +isn't a trap, it looks too damned much like it to be much of a picnic! +Faith, this is a Hell of a party!" + +"Silence, sir!" commanded the Master; while Leclair, at his other +side, cast a look of anger at the Celt. "Diplomacy requires that we +consider these men as a guard of honor. Pay no attention to them, +anybody! Any sign of hesitation now, or fear, may be suicide. +Remember, we are dealing with Orientals. The 'grand manner' is what +counts with them. I advise every man who has tobacco, to light a +cigarette and look indifferent. _Verb sap!_" + +Most of the Legionaries produced tobacco; but the Olema, smiling, +raised a hand of negation. For already the slave-girls were entering +with trays of cigarettes and silver boxes of tobacco. These they +passed to the visitors, then to the Arabs. Such as preferred +cigarettes, suffered the girls to light them at the copper fire-pans. +Others, choosing a _shishah_, let the girls fill it from the silver +boxes; and soon the grateful vapors of tobacco were rising to blend +with the spiced incense-smoke. + +A more comfortable feeling now possessed the Legionaries. This sharing +of tobacco seemed to establish almost an amicable Free Masonry between +them and the Jannati Shahr men. All sat and smoked in what seemed a +friendly silence. + +The slave-girls silently departed. Others came with huge, silver trays +graven with Koran verses. These trays contained meat-pilafs, swimming +in melted butter; vine leaves filled with chopped mutton; _kababs_, +or bits of roast meat spitted on wooden splinters; crisp cucumbers; a +kind of tasteless bread; a dish that looked like vermicelli sweetened +with honey; thin jelly, and sweetmeats that tasted strongly of +rosewater. Dates, pomegranates, and areca nuts cut up and mixed with +sugar-paste pinned with cloves into a betel leaf--these constituted +the dessert. + +The Arabs ate with strict decorum, according to their custom, +beginning the banquet with a _Bismillah_ of thanks and ending with an +_Al Hamd_ that signified repletion. Knives and forks there were none; +each man dipped his hand into whatever dish pleased him, as the trays +were passed along. The Legionaries did the same. + +"Rather messy, eh?" commented the major; but no one answered him. More +serious thoughts than these possessed the others. + +After ablution, once more--this time the white men shared it--tobacco, +pomegranate syrup, sherbet, water perfumed with _mastich_-smoke, and +thick, black coffee ended the meal. + +The Master requested khat leaves, which were presently brought +him--deliciously green and fresh--in a copper bowl. Then, while the +slave-girls removed all traces of the feast, all relaxed for a few +minutes' _kayf_, or utter peace. + +Utter peace, indeed, it seemed. Nothing more soothing could have been +imagined than the soft wooing of repletion and of silken cushions, +the dim sunlight through the smoke of incense and tobacco, the gentle +bubbling of the water-pipes, the half-heard courting of pigeons +somewhere aloft in the embrasures of the clerestory windows. + +All possibility of warfare seemed to have vanished. Under the magic +spell of this enchanted, golden hall, even the grim Maghrabis, black +and motionless along the tapestried walls, seemed to have sunk to the +role of mere spectators. + +The Arabs' glances, though subtly curious, appeared to hold little +animosity. Now that they had broken bread together, cementing the Oath +of the Salt, might not hospitality have become inviolable? True, some +looks of veiled hostility were directed against "Captain Alden's" +strangely masked face, as the woman sat there cross-legged like the +rest, indifferently smoking cigarettes. For what the Arab cannot +understand is always antipathetic to him. But this hostility was +not marked. The spirits of the Legion, including those of the Master +himself, rose with a sense of greater security. + +Even Bohannan, chronic complainer, forgot to cavil and began to bask +in contentment. + +"Faith, but this is a good imitation of Lotus-land, after all," he +murmured to Janina, at his side. "I wouldn't mind boarding at this +hotel for an indefinite period. Meals excellent; waitresses beat +anything on Broadway; atmosphere very restful to wandering gentlemen. +Now if I could only get acquainted with one of these lovely Fatimas, +and find out where the bar is--the bar of El Barr! Very good! Faith, +very good indeed!" + +He laughed at his own witticism and blew perfumed smoke toward the +dim, golden roof. But now his attention was riveted by the silent +entrance of six dancing-girls, that instantly brought him to keen +observation. + +Their dance, barefooted and with a minimum of veils, swayed into +sinuous beauty to the monotonous music of kettle-drums, long red +flutes and guitars of sand-tortoise shell with goat-skin heads--music +furnished by a dozen Arabs squatting on their hunkers half-way down the +hall. The gracious weaving of those lithe, white bodies of the girls +as they swayed from sunlit filigree to dim shadow, stirred even the +coldest heart among the Legionaries, that of the Master himself. As +for Bohannan, his cup of joy was brimming. + +The dance ended, one of the girls sang with a little foreign accent, +very pleasing to the ears of the Master and Leclairs the famous chant +of Kaab el Ahbar: + + A black tent, swayed by the desert wind + Is dearer to me, dearer to me + Than any palace of the city walls. + Dearer to me! + + [1]_And the earth met with rain!_ + + A handful of dates, a cup of camel's milk + Is dearer to me, dearer to me + Than any sweetmeat in the city walls. + Dearer to me! + + _And the earth wet with rain!_ + + A slender Bedouin maid, freely unveiled + Is dearer to me, dearer to me + Than harem beauties with henna-stained fingers. + My Bedouin maid is slim as the _ishkil_ tree. + Dearer to me! + + _And the earth wet with rain!_ + + Black tent, swift white mare, camel of Hejaz blood + Are dear to me, are dear to me! + Dearest is my slim, unveiled one of the desert sands! + Dearest to me! + Ibla her name is; she blazes like the sun, + Like the sun at dawn, with hair like midnight shades, + Oh, dear to me! + Paradise is in her eyes; and in her breasts, enchantment. + Her body yields like the tamarisk, + When the soft winds blow over the hills of Nedj! + Dearest to me! + + _And the earth wet with rain!_ + +[Footnote 1: _W'al arz mablul bi matar._ A favorite refrain for songs +among the Arabs, to whom rain represents all comforts and delights.] + +A little silence followed the ending of the song and the withdrawal +of the girls and musicians. The major seemed disposed to call for +an encore, but Janina silenced his forthcoming remarks with a sharp +nudge. All at once, old Bara Miyan removed the amber stem of the +water-pipe from his bearded lips and said: + +"Now, White Sheik, thou hast eaten of our humble food, and seen +our dancing. Thou hast heard our song. Wilt thou also see jugglers, +wrestlers, trained apes from Yemen? Or wilt thou take the _kaylulah_ +(siesta)? Or doth it please thee now to speak of the gifts that my +heart offers thee and thine?" + +"Let us speak of the gifts, O Bara Miyan," answered the Master, while +Leclair listened intently and all the Arabs gave close heed. "We have +not many hours more to stay in this paradise of thine. We must be +away to our own Feringistan, in our flying house. Let us speak of the +gifts. But first, I would ask thee something." + +"Speak, in Allah's name, and it shall be answered thee!" + +"The salt is still in thy stomach for us?" + +"It is still in my stomach." + +"Thou dost swear that, O Bara Miyan, by a great oath?" + +"By the rising of the stars, which is a great oath!" + +"And by the greatest oath, the honor of thy women?" + +"Yea, Frank, by the honor of my women! But thou and thine, too, have +covenants to keep." + +Old Bara Miyan bent shaggy white brows at the Master, and peered out +intently from under the hood of his burnous. The Master queried: + +"What covenants, great Olema?" + +"These: That no harm shall befall Myzab and the Great Pearl Star and +the Black Stone, before thou and thine fly away to the Lands of the +Books. Then, that no blood of our people shall be shed in El Barr, +either the city of Jannati Shahr or the plain. These things thou must +understand, O Frank. If harm befall the sacred relics, or blood +be shed, then the salt will depart from my stomach, and we will be +_kiman_,[1] and the _thar_[2] will be between thine and mine. I have +spoken!" + +[Footnote 1: Kiman, of hostile tribes.] + +[Footnote 2: Thar, the terrible blood-feud of the Arabs.] + +The Master nodded. + +"These things be very clear to my heart," he answered. "They shall be +treasured in my memory." + +"It is well. Now speak we of the gifts." + +The fixed attention of the Arabs told the Legionaries, despite their +ignorance of Arabic, that at last the important negotiation of the +reward was under way. Pipes and cigarettes smoldered, unsmoked; all +eyes turned eagerly toward the Master and Bara Miyan. Silence fell +upon the banquet-hall, where still the thin, perfumed incense-smoke +writhed aloft and where still the motionless Maghrabi men stood in +those ominous lines along the silk-tapestried walls. + +"And what things," began the Olema, "doth thy heart desire, in this +city of Jannati Shahr? Tell thy wish, and perchance it shall be +granted thee!" + +The Master paused, deliberately. Well he understood the psychological +value of slow action in dealing with Orientals. Bargaining, with such, +is a fine art. Haste, greed, eagerness defeat themselves. + +Contemplatively the Master chewed a khat leaf, then smiled a very +little, and asked: + +"Is it permitted to tell thee that this gold, of which thou hast +carved thy city--this gold which to thee is as stones and earth to +the people of Feringistan--hath great value with us?" + +"It is permitted, O Frank. This thing we already know." The old man +frowned ominously. "Dost thou ask gold?" + +The Master nerved himself for the supreme demand, success in which +would mean fortune beyond all calculation, power and wealth to shame +all plutocrats. + +"Gold?" he repeated. "Yea, that is what we ask! Gold! Give unto us +what gold our flying house can carry hence to our own land beyond the +salted seas, and we will depart. Before the rising of the stars we +will be gone. And the peace be unto thee, O Bara Miyan, master of the +gold!" + +Tension as of a wire about to snap contracted the Master's nerves, +strong as they were. Leclair leaned forward, his face pale, teeth set +hard into his lip. + +"Yea, gold!" the Master repeated with hard-forced calm. "This is the +gift we ask of thee, for the Myzab and the holy Black Stone and Kaukab +el Durri--the gift of gold!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + + +"SONS OF THE PROPHET, SLAY!" + +The Olema shook an emphatic head of negation. "_Yafta Allah!_" he +exclaimed, using the absolute, decisive formula of refusal in Arab +bargaining. "This gold of ours is sacred. The angel Jibrail himself +struck the Iron Mountains with his wing, at the same hour when the +Black Stone fell from Paradise, and caused the gold to gush out. It is +not earthly gold, but the gold of angels. + +"Not one grain can be taken from El Barr. The curses of Jehannun, of +Eblis, rest on Arab or _Ajam_ who dare attempt it. Surely, such a one +shall be put to the sword, and his soul in the bottom pits of Hell +shall be taken by the feet and forelock and cast into the hottest +flames! That soul shall eat of the fruit of the tree Al Zakkum, and be +branded forever with the treasure he did attempt to ravish from us!" + +"Remember, great Olema, we did bring thee the Myzab and Kaukab el +Durri, and the holy Black Stone!" + +"I remember, White Sheik, and will reward thee, but not with gold!" +The old man's face was stern, deep-lined, hard; his eyes had assumed a +dangerous glitter. "Thou hast a good tongue, but though it speak from +now till the angel Al Sijil roll up all the scrolls of life, it shall +not avail. + +"Ask some other thing; and remember, if thou dost try by any magic +to remove even a sand-grain of this gold, the salt will be no longer +between thee and me. This must be added to the two things I have +already told thee of, that would take away the salt!" + +Narrowly the Master eyed him, then nodded. Huge though this rebuff +had been, and great as the loss must be, the Master realized the utter +impossibility of coming to any terms with Bara Miyan on a gold basis. +All the fanaticism of these people would resist this, to the death. +Even to insist further might precipitate a massacre. Therefore, like +the philosopher he was, he turned to other possibilities, considering +what was best to be done. + +The Olema spoke again, pausing now and then as he puffed reflectively +at his water-pipe. Said he: + +"I will tell thee a great secret, O Frank. In this city lie the lost +books of the Arwam (Greek) wise men and poets. When the Alexandrian +library was burned by Amrou, at Omar's order, the four thousand baths +of the city were heated for six months by ancient scrolls. I have +heard that ye Feringi have greatly mourned the loss of the Arwam +learning and poetry. Not all this treasure was lost, White Sheik!" + +The Master started, peered at Bara Miyan and forgot to chew his +soothing khat leaves. + +"And then--?" asked he. + +"Some twenty thousand of the most precious parchments were privately +carried by our _Sufis_ to Medina, and thence, after many years, to +Jannati Shahr. Here they still lie, in perfect form, clearly to be +read. This is a treasure that would set the world of the Feringi +ablaze and make thee as a god among thy people. Ask this gift, +O Frank, and it shall be granted thee! For the mere asking, this +treasure shall be thine!" + +The Master shook his head. Deeply as he understood the incalculable +value of the lost books of antiquity, he well knew that to offer his +Legion such a booty would be all in vain. Men who have suffered and +bled, risked all, seen their comrades die, and even now stand in +the shadow of death--hoping some vast, tangible loot--are not proper +material for discussion of literary values. + +"_Yafta Allah!_" the Master exclaimed, with emphasis equal to the +Olema's. "No, Bara Miyan, this cannot be." + +"Our dancing and singing maidens are like a flame of Paradise. Their +enchantments make the heart of man glad with perpetual springtime. +Choose, O Frank, two handmaids for thyself and for each of thy men, +and let them be yours to go with you to your own country and to be +your chattels and your sweet delights!" + +The eyes of "Captain Alden" narrowed with sudden, painful emotion as +she peered at the Master. With some smattering of Arabic, she may have +caught something of the sense of this offer. But the Master, unmoved +by this second offer of Olema's, merely shook his head again, saying: + +"No, Bara Miyan. Though thy women be fair as the dawn over the Sea of +Oman, and soft-eyed as the gazelles in the oasis of the _Wady el +Ward_ (Vale of Flowers), not for us are they. We seek other rewards. +Therefore will I ask thee still another question." + +"Thy question shall be answered, O Frank!" + +"Is it true that the Caliph el Walid, in Hegira 88, sent forty +camel-loads of cut jewels to Mecca?" + +"That is true." + +"And that, later, all those jewels were brought hither?" + +"Even so! It is also true that two Franks in Hegira 550, digged a +tunnel into the Meccan treasury from a house they had hired in the +guise of Egyptian _Hujjaj_. They were both beheaded, White Sheik, and +their bodies were burned to ashes." + +"No doubt," the Master answered, nonchalantly. "But they had brought +no rich gifts to the Meccans. Therefore, now speaking of these forty +camel-loads of cut jewels, O Bara Miyan--" + +"It is in thy mind to ask for those, White Sheik?" + +"Allah giveth thee two hearts, Bara Miyan, as well as the riches of +Karun. Surely, 'the generous man is Allah's friend,' and thy hand is +not tied up."[1] + +[Footnote 1: "To have two hearts" (_dhu'kulbein_) signifies to be +prudent, wise. Karun is the Arabic Croesus. "Thy hand is tied up" is +equivalent to calling a man niggardly.] + +The Olema, a quick decision gleaming in his eyes--though what that +decision might be, who could tell?--put down the amber mouthpiece and +with an eloquent, lean hand gestured toward a silk-curtained doorway +at the right of the vast hall. + +"Come with me, then, White Sheik!" said he, arising and beckoning his +white-robed sub-chiefs. He raised a finger in signal to the Maghrabis, +though what the signal might mean, the Legionaries could not know. +"Come, with all thy men. And, by Allah! I will show thee the things +whereof thou dost speak to me. I will show thee all these things--and +others! + +"_Come_!" + +In silence the Legionaries followed old Bara Miyan through the +curtained doorway; and after them came the sub-chiefs. The Maghrabi +stranglers, noiseless and bare-footed, fell in behind; a long ominous +line of black human brutes, seeming hardly above the intellectual +level of so many gorillas. + +Stout-hearted as the Legionaries were, a kind of numbing oppression +was closing in upon them. City battlements and double walls of inner +citadel, then massive gates and now again more doors that closed +behind them, intervened between them and even the perilous liberty of +the plain of El Barr. And, in addition to all this, some hundreds of +thousands of Arabs, waiting without, effectually surrounded them, and +the Maghrabi men cast their black shadow, threatening and ominous, +over the already somber enough canvas. + +A web, they all felt, was closing about them that only chance and +boldness could unravel. Everything now hung on the word of an aged +fanatic, who for any fancied breach of the Oath of Salt might deliver +them to slavery, torture, death. + +"Remember, men," the Master warned his men as they penetrated the +dim, golden-walled passage also lighted with sandal-oil +_mash'als_--"remember the mercy-bullets. If it comes to war, none of +us must be taken prisoner!" + +To the Olema he exclaimed, in suave tones: + +"_Dakhilak, Ya Shayk!_ (Under thy protection, O Sheik!) Let not the +laws of hospitality or the Oath of Salt be forgotten!" + +The Olema only smiled oddly, in the dim and perfumed obscurity of the +passageway, along which the slither of the many sandaled feet on +the gold pavement made a soft, creeping sound. Nothing more was +said--except for some grumbled mouthings of Bohannan--during the next +few minutes. + +The passage seemed enormously long to the Master as, flanked by +Leclair, "Captain Alden," and the major, he peered curiously at its +smooth, dull-yellow walls all chased with geometrical patterns picked +out in silver and copper, between the dull-hued tapestries, and +banded with long extracts from the Koran inlaid in Tumar characters of +mother-of-pearl. + +Several turnings, and three flights of steps descending through the +solid gold "dyke" that ran down into the bowels of the earth no +one could even guess how far, served still more to confuse the +Legionaries' sense of direction and to increase their conviction that, +in case of any outbreak of hostilities, they would find themselves +trapped more helplessly than rats in a cage. + +It is no aspersion on their bravery to say that more than one among +them had already begun inwardly to curse this wild-goose chase +into Jannati Shahr. It all had now begun to assume absolutely the +appearance of a well-formulated plan of treachery. Even the Master +gave recognition to this appearance, by saying again: "Be ready for +a quick draw. But whatever you do, don't be the aggressor. Watch your +step!" + +The passage suddenly reached its end. Another heavy door of the yellow +metal swung back, and all issued into a hall even more vast than the +one they had quitted. + +No windows here admitted light. The air, though pure enough as from +some hidden source of ventilation, hung dead and heavy. Not even the +censers, depending from the dim roof, far above, could freshen it; +nor could the cressets' light make more than a kind of ghostly aura +through the gloom. + +By this dim half-illumination the Master beheld, there before him in +the middle of the tremendous golden pavement, a strange, +pyramidal object rising four-square in the shape of an equilateral +triangle--just such a triangle as was formed by the locations of +Mecca, Bab el Mandeb, and El Barr. + +This pyramid, polished and elaborately engraved, towered some ninety +feet above the floor. It was pierced by numbers of openings, like the +entrances to galleries; and up the smooth face nearest the entrance to +the hall, a stairway about ten feet wide mounted toward the apex. + +Completely finished all save the upper part, which still remained +truncated, the golden pyramid gleamed dully in the vague light, a +thing of awe and wonder, grimly beautiful, fearsome to gaze up at. For +some unknown reason, as the Legionaries grouped themselves about their +Master, an uncanny influence seemed to emanate from this singular +object. All remained silent, as the Olema, an enigmatic smile on his +thin, bearded lips, raised a hand toward the pyramid. + +"This thing, O Frank, thou shouldst see," he remarked dryly. "Above +all, the inner chambers. Wilt thou go with me?" + +"I will go," the Master answered. "Lead the way!" + +The Olema beckoned one of the Maghrabis, who delivered a torch of some +clear-burning, resinous, and perfumed material into his hand. + +"Come," bade the old man, and gestured toward the steps of gold. + +Together, in silence, they mounted toward the dim, high-arched +roof. From near the top, the Master, glancing down, could see the +white-robed mass of the Arabs, the small, compact group of his own +men; and, behind them all, the dim, black lines of the stranglers. But +already the Olema was gesturing for him to enter the highest of the +galleries. + +Into this, carved in the virgin metal, both made their way. The +torchlight flung strange, wavering gleams on smooth walls niched with +dark embrasures. At the further end of the passage, the Olema stopped. + +"Here is a new trophy, just added to all that Allah hath placed in our +hands," said he, gravely. "There are some three-and-twenty places yet +left, to fill. Wilt thou see the new trophy?" + +The Master nodded silently. Raising the torch, the Olema thrust it +into one of the embrasures. There the Master beheld a human skull. + +The empty eye-sockets, peering out at him, seemed to hold a malevolent +malice. That the skull had been but freshly cleaned, was obvious. + +"Abd el Rahman?" asked the Master. + +"Yea, the Apostate," answered Bara Miyan. "At last, Allah hath +delivered him to us of El Barr." + +"Thou hast used a heavy hand on the Apostate, O Sheik." + +"We of Jannati Shahr do not anoint rats' heads with jasmine oil. Tell +me, Frank, how many men hast thou?" + +"Three-and-twenty, is it not so?" + +"Yea, it is so. Tell me, Bara Miyan, this whole pyramid--" + +"Skulls, yea." + +"This is the Pyramid of Ayeshah that I have heard strange tales of?" +the Master demanded, feeling even his hard nerves quiver. + +"The Pyramid of Ayeshah." + +"No myth, then, but reality," the Master commented, fascinated in +spite of himself. "Even as the famous Tower of Skulls at Jerba, in +Tunis!" + +"Thou hast said it, O Frank. Here be more than ten-score thousand +skulls of the enemies of Islam, of blasphemers against the Prophet, of +those who have penetrated the Empty Abodes, of those who have sought +to carry gold from El Barr. It is nearly done, this pyramid. But there +still remain three-and-twenty vacant places to be filled." + +For a long minute, the eyes of the Master and of Bara Miyan met, in +silence, with the torch-flare glinting strange lights from them. Then +the Olema spoke. + +"Hast thou seen enough?" demanded he. + +"Mine eyes are filled." + +"And dost thou still ask rewards of gold?" + +"Nay, it is as I have already told thee; let the cut jewels of the +Caliph el Walid suffice!" + +"It is well spoken. Let us descend." + +In silence, again, they left the gruesome gallery and went down the +stairway with the Olema's torch leaving vague, fantastic wreaths of +odorous smoke curling up along the polished, dull-yellow slant of the +pyramid. Back on the floor again, the Master said to his men: + +"This pyramid is filled with skulls of men who have tried to carry +gold from El Barr. For the present, we must dismiss gold from our +minds. Common prudence dictates that we abandon all idea of gold, take +whatever reward we can get, and leave this city at once. + +"The gold is of no importance, whatever. On the way back over the +outer foothills of the Iron Mountains, many outcrops of gold exist. +_Nissr_ can poise above some of these; and a few hours' labor will +load her with all the gold we can carry. There can be no sense in +trying to get any here. It would simply add to our peril. + +"Everything is therefore quite satisfactory. But watch every move. If +nothing breaks, in two hours from now we should be on our way. Again +I caution you all, keep silent and make no move without my orders. The +prize is at our very finger-tips. So long as we shed no blood and as +nothing happens to the Myzab and the Black Stone, we are safe. But +remember--_be careful!_" + +The Olema touched him on the elbow. + +"Now," the old man asked, "now, O Frank, wouldst thou see the cut +jewels of the Caliph el Walid?" + +"Even so!" + +"Come, then!" And Bara Miyan gestured toward another door that led, at +the left, out of the Chamber of the Pyramid. + +Again the strange procession formed itself, as before, with the +gorilla-like Maghrabi stranglers a rear guard. A few minutes through +still another passage in the gold brought them to a door of ebony, +banded with silver. No door of gold, it seemed, sufficed for this +chamber they were about to enter. Stronger materials were needed here. + +This door, like the others, swung silently on its massive hinges. + +"Come, O Master of the fighting-men of Feringistan!" exclaimed the +Olema. "In Allah's name, take of the gifts that I have already offered +thee, and then in peace depart!" + +Before the Master could reply, a shuddering concussion shivered +through the solid gold all about them. The tremor of this shock, like +that of an earthquake, trembled the cressets on the walls and made the +huge ebony door, ajar into a dim-lighted hall, groan on its hinges. + +Stupefied, Legionaries and Arabs alike, stared silently under the +vague gleam of the torches. + +Then, far and faint, as though coming along tortuous passages from +distances above, a muffled concussion smote their ears. The shock of +the air-wave was distinctly felt, eloquent of the catastrophe that in +a second of time had shattered every plan and hope. + +As if an echo of that thunderous, far explosion, a faint wailing of +voices--echoing from very far above--drifted eerily along the passage; +voices in blended rage and fear, in hate, agony, despair. + +"God above--!" the major gulped. "Captain Alden" whipped her pistol +from its holster, not a fraction of a second before the Master's +leaped into his hand. The torchlight flickered on Leclair's +service-revolver, and was reflected on the guns of every Legionary. + +"If that's the explosive," Bohannan cried, "faith, we're in for it! +_Is_ it the explosive that's blown Hell out o' the Black Stone?" + +A wild cry echoed down the passage. The Olema, his face suddenly +distorted with a passion of hate, snatched a pistol from beneath his +burnous. + +"The dogs of Feringistan have spat on all Islam!" he screamed, in a +shrill, horrible voice. "The Black Stone is no more! Vengeance on the +unbelieving dogs! _Allah il Allah!_ Kill, kill, and let no dog escape! + +"Sons of the Prophet! Slay me these dogs! Kill!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + + +WAR IN THE DEPTHS + +Horrible, unreal as a fever-born nightmare in its sudden frenzy, the +Arab's attack drove in at them. The golden passageway flung from wall +to wall screams, curses in shrill barbaric voices, clangor of steel +whirled from scabbards, echoes of shots loud-roaring in that narrow +space. + +Bara Miyan's pistol, struck up by the woman's hand, spat fire over the +Master's head just as the Olema himself went down with blood spurting +from a jugular severed by the major's bullet. The Olema's gaudy +burnous crimsoned swiftly. + +"Got _him_!" shouted Bohannan, firing again, again, into the tangle of +sub-chiefs and Maghrabi men. Adams pitched forward, cleft to the chin +by a simitar. + +The firing leaped to point-blank uproar, on both sides. The men of +Jannati Shahr numbered more pistols, but the Legionaries had quicker +firers. Arabs, Legionaries, Maghrabis alike falling in a tumult of raw +passions, disappeared under trampling feet. + +Deafening grew the uproar of howls, curses, shots. The smell of dust +and blood mingled with the aromatic perfume of the cressets. + +The Master was shouting something, as he emptied his automatic into +the pack of white-robed bodies, snarling brown faces, waving arms. But +what he was commanding, who could tell? + +Like a storm-wave flinging froth ashore, the rush of the Moslems +drove the Legionaries--fewer now--back into the treasure-chamber. The +Master, violent hands on "Captain Alden," swung her back, away; thrust +her behind him. Her eyes gleamed through the mask as she still fired. +The Master heard her laugh. + +From dimness of gloom, within the doorway, two vague figures rained +dagger-blows. Janina, mortally stabbed, practically blew the head off +one of these door-keepers. + +Cracowicz got the other with a blow from the butt of his empty +pistol--a blow that crushed in the right temporal bone. Then he, too, +and three others, fell and died. + +Outside, in the passage, the Maghrabis were wringing the necks of the +wounded white men. The dull sound of crushed and broken bones blent +with the turmoil. + +"_The door--shut the door!_" + +The Master's voice penetrated even this Hell-tumult. The Master flung +himself against the door, and others with him. + +The very frenzy of the attack defeated the Arab's object, for it drove +the survivors back into the treasure-crypt. And in the narrow doorway +the white men could for a moment hold back the howling tides of fury. + +With cold lead, butts, naked fists, the remaining Legionaries smashed +a little clearance-room, corpse-heaped. They stumbled, fought, fell +into the crypt. + +The heavy door, swung by panting, sweating men--while others fired +through the narrowing aperture--groaned shut on massive hinges. + +As the space narrowed, frenzy broke loose. Arabs and Maghrabis crawled +and struggled over bodies, flung themselves to sure immolation in the +doorway. As fast as they fell, the Legionaries dragged them inside. +The place became an infernal shambles, slippery, crimson, unreal with +horror. + +For one fate-heavy moment, the tides of war hung even. Furiously the +remaining Legionaries toiled with straining muscles, swelling veins, +panting lungs, to force the door shut, against the shrieking, frenzied +drive of Moslem fanatics lashed into fury by the _thar_, the feud of +blood. + +"Captain Alden" turned the tide. She snatched down one of the copper +lamps that hung by chains from the dim ceiling of the treasure-crypt. +Over the heads of the Legionaries she flung blazing sandal-oil out +upon the white-robed jam of madmen. + +The flaming oil flared up along those thin, white robes. It dripped on +wounded and on dead. Wild howls of anguish pierced the tumult. In the +minute of confusion, the door boomed shut. Bohannan dropped a heavy +teakwood bar into staples of bronze. + +"God!" he panted, his right eye misted with blood from a jagged cut +on the brow. Shrieks of rage, from without, were answered by jeers and +shouts of exultation from the Legionaries. + +"_Nom de Dieu!_" gasped Leclair. His neck was blackened with a +powder burn, and the tunic was ripped clean off him. Not one of the +Legionaries had uniforms completely whole. Hardly half of them still +kept their slippers. + +Torn, barefooted, burned, bleeding, decimated, they still laughed. +Wild gibes penetrated the door of the treasure-crypt, against which +the mad attack was already beginning to clash and thunder. + +"Faith, but this is a grand fight!" the major exulted. "It's +Donnybrook with trimmings!" He waved his big fists enthusiastically on +high, and blinked his one good eye. "If a man can die this way, sure, +what's the use o' living?" + +"Steady men! Steady!" the Master cautioned, reloading his gun. "No +time, now, for shouting. Load up! This fight's only begun!" + +Already, as they recharged their weapons, the door was groaning under +the frantic attack of the Arabs and Maghrabis. Wild curses, howls to +Allah and to the Prophet, came in dull confusion through the massive +plates. A hail of blows besieged them. The bronze staples began to +bend. + +"Come, men!" commanded the Master. "No chance to defend this position. +They'll be in, directly. There are thousands of them in reserve! Away +from here!" + +"Where the devil _to_?" demanded the major, defiantly. "Hang to +it--give 'em blue Hell as they come through!" + +The Master seized and flung him back. + +"If you're so keen on dying," he cried, "you can die right now, for +insubordination! Back, away from here, you idiot!" + +The major obeyed. The others followed. Already the door was +creaking, giving, as the Legionaries--now hardly more than a dozen in +number--began the first steps of their retreat, that should rank in +history with that of Xenophon's historic Ten Thousand. + +The Greeks had all of God's outdoors for their maneuvers. These +Legionaries had nothing but dark pits and runways, unexplored, in the +bowels of a huge, fanatic city. Thus, their retreat was harder. But +with courage unshaken, they turned their backs on the yielding door, +and set their faces toward darkness and the unknown. + +Two of their number lay dead inside this chamber where the Legionaries +now were. Nothing could be done for them; the bodies simply had to be +abandoned where they lay. Eight were dead in the passage outside the +chamber, their corpses mingled with those of Arabs and Maghrabis. + +In the chamber, as the Master glanced back, he could see a heap of +bodies round the door. These bodies of attackers who had been pulled +inside and butchered, made a glad sight to the Master. He laughed +grimly. + +"We're more than even with them, so far," he exulted. "We've beaten +them, so far! The rest will get us, all right enough, but Jannati +Shahr will remember the coming of the white men!" + +The survivors--the Master, Bohannan, "Captain Alden," and Leclair and +nine others--were in evil case, as they trailed down the low-roofed +chamber lighted with copper lamps. More than half bore wounds. +Some showed bleeding faces, others limp arms; still others hobbled +painfully, leaving bloody trails on the floor of dull gold. Curses on +the Arabs echoed in various tongues. This first encounter had taken +frightful toll of the Legion. + +But every heart that still lived was bold and high. Not one of the +little party entertained the slightest hope of surviving or of ever +beholding the light of day. Still, not one uttered any word of despair +or suggestion of surrender. + +Everything but a fight to the finish was forgotten. Only one man even +thought of _Nissr_ and of what probably had happened out there on the +plain. This man was Leclair. + +"_Dieu_!" he grunted. "An accident, eh? Something must have gone +wrong--or did the brown devils attack? I hope our men outside +made good slaughter of these Moslem pigs, before they died. Eh, my +Captain?" + +"Well?" + +"Is it not possible that _Nissr_ and our men still live? That they +will presently bombard the city? That they may rescue us?" + +The Master shook his head. + +"They may live," he answered, "but as for rescuing us--" His gesture +completed the idea. Suddenly he pointed. + +"See!" he cried. "Another door!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + + +INTO THE JEWEL-CRYPT + +It was time some exit should be discovered. The tumult had notably +increased, at the barred entrance. The staples could not hold, much +longer. + + +The Legionaries pressed forward. At the far end of the chamber, +another door was indeed visible; smaller than the first, low, almost +square, and let into a deep recess in the elaborately carved wall of +gold. + +Barefooted, in their socks, or some still in slippers, they reached +this door. A little silence fell on them, as they inspected it. +One man coughed, spitting blood. Another wheezed, with painful +respiration. The smell of sweat and blood sickened the air. + +"That's some door, all right!" judged Bohannan, peering at its dark +wood, heavily banded with iron. "Faith, but they've got a padlock on +that, big enough to hold the Pearly Gates!" + +"It is only a question, now, of the key," put in Leclair, with French +precision. + +"Faith, _here's_ a trap!" the Irishman continued. "A trap, for you! +And thirteen rats in it! Lucky, eh?" + +"In Jananti Shahr," the memory of a sentence flashed to the Master, +"we do not anoint rats' heads with jasmine oil!" But all he said was: +"Light, here! Bring lamps!" + +Three Legionaries obeyed. The flare of the crude wicks, up along the +door, showed its tremendous solidity. + +"A little of our explosive would do this business," the Master +declared. "But it's obvious nothing short of that would have much +effect. I think, men, we'll make our stand right here. + +"If we put out all lights, we'll have the attackers at a disadvantage. +We can account for fifty or more, before they close in. And--'Captain +Alden,' sir! Where are you going? Back, here!" + +The woman gave no heed. She was half-way to the entrance door, round +the edges of which already torch-light had begun to glimmer as the +attackers strained it from its hinges. + +Amazed, the Legionaries stared. The Master started after her. Now she +was on her knees beside one of the dead Maghrabis--the one killed +by Janina. She found nothing; turned to the other; uttered a cry of +exultation and held up a clumsy key. + +Back over the floor of gold she ran. Her fingers held a crimson cord, +from which the key dangled. + +"Those two--they were guardians of this vault, of course!" she cried. +"Here is the key!" + +A cheer burst from the Legionaries. The Master clutched the key, +pressed forward to the inner door. A terrible intensity of emotion +seized all the survivors, as he fitted the key to the ponderous lock. + +"God!" the Irishman grunted, as the wards slid back. The padlock +clattered to the floor. The hasp fell. In swung the door. + +Through it pressed the Legionaries, with lamps swinging, pistols in +hand. As the last of them entered, the outer door collapsed with a +bursting clangor. Lights gleamed; a white-robed tumult of raging men +burst through. Shots crackled; yells echoed; and the sound of many +sandaled feet, furiously running, filled the outer chamber with sounds +of ominous import. + +"_Ah, sacres cochons!_" shouted Leclair, emptying his pistol at the +pursuers. The Master thrust him back. The door clanged shut; down +dropped another bar. + +Bohannan laughed madly. The fighting-blood was leaping in his veins. + +"Oh, the grand fight!" he shouted. "God, the grand old fight!" + +Confused voices, crying out in Arabic, wheeled the Master from the +door. + +This inner chamber, very much smaller than the outer, was well lighted +by still more lamps, though here all were of chased silver. + +At the far end, four dim figures were visible. Black faces peered in +wonder. The Legionaries caught sight of giant simitars, of fluttering +white robes as the figures advanced. + +"By Allah!" a hoarse shout echoed. "Look, Mustapha! The Feringi!" + +In the shadows at the other end, the amazed Maghrabi swordsmen +hesitated one precious moment. White-rimmed eyes stared, teeth gleamed +through distorted lips. + +These gigantic _mudirs_, or Keepers of the Treasure, had expected the +opening of the door to show them the Feringi, indeed, but preceded by +Bara Miyan and surrounded by men of Jannati Shahr. + +Now they beheld the dogs of unbelievers all alone, there, with guns in +hands, with every sign of battle. They had heard sounds of war, +from without. Their dull minds, slowly reacting, could not grasp the +significance of all this. + +"The Feringi, Yusuf," cried another voice. "And they are alone! What +meaneth this?" + +"_M'adri_" (I know not), ejaculated still another. "But _kill--kill_!" + +Their attack was hopeless, but its bravery ranked perfect. Their +shouting charge down the chamber, sabers high, ended in grunting +sprawls of white. Not half-naked like the low-caste Maghrabi outside, +but clad in Arab fashion, they lay there, with Legionaries' bullets in +breast and brain. + +The Master smiled, grimly, as he walked to one of the bodies and +stirred it with his naked foot. He swung above it a silver lamp he had +pulled down from the wonderfully arabesqued wall. + +"Four scimitars added to our equipment will be useful, at close +quarters," he opined very coolly, unmindful of the dull uproar now +battering at the inner door. "Pick up the cutlery, men, and don't +forget the admirable qualities of the _arme blanche_!" + +Himself, he took one of the long, curved blades. The major, Leclair, +and Ferrara--an expert swordsman he had been, in the Italian +army--possessed themselves of the others. + +Bohannan whistled his scimitar through the air. + +"Very fine I call it!" he exclaimed, with a joyful laugh. "Some little +game of tag, what? And our Moslem friends are still 'it!' We're still +ahead!" + +"And likely to be, till our friends bring powder, mine that door, and +blow it in!" The Master added: "We've still a few minutes--maybe more. +Now, then--" + +A shrill cry in French, from Lebon, drew all eyes away to the left of +the small chamber. + +"_Voila_!" the lieutenant's orderly was vociferating. They saw his +distorted, torture-broken hand wildly gesticulating toward the floor. +"My Lieutenant, behold!" + +"In the name of God, what now?" Leclair demanded, scimitar in hand. +The silver lamps struck high-lights from that gleaming blade, as he +turned toward his orderly. Never had he seen the man seized and shaken +by excitement as at this moment. "What hast thou found, Lebon? What?" + +"But behold--behold!" choked the orderly. Articulation failed him. He +stammered into unintelligible cries. The Legionaries crowded toward +him. And in the dumb stupefaction that overcame them, the roaring +tumult at the door was all forgotten. The sentence of death hanging +above them, faded to nothing. + +Even the Master's cold blood leaped and thrilled, at realization of +what he was now beholding as the silver lamps swung from out-stretched +hands. Bohannan, for once, was too dazed for exuberance. + +Only the Master could find words. + +"Well, men," said he, in even tones. "Here it is, at last. We're +seeing something no Feringi ever saw before--the hidden treasure of +Jannati Shahr!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + + +THE JEWEL HOARD + +Men do strange things, at times, when confronted by experiences +entirely outside even the limits of imagination. At sight of the +perfectly overwhelming masses of wealth that lay there in square pits +chiseled out of the solid gold, most of the Legionaries reacted like +men drunk or mad. + +The hoard before them was enough to unbalance reason. + +Leclair began to curse with amazing fluency in French and Arabic, +while his orderly fell into half-hysterical prayer. Bristol--stolid +Englishman though he was--had to make a strong effort to keep his +teeth from chattering. The two Italians, one with an ugly wound on +the jaw, burst out laughing, waving their arms extravagantly. Simonds +shouted jubilation and began to jump about in the most extraordinary +fashion. Wallace sat down heavily on the floor, held his lamp out over +one of the pits and stared with blank incomprehension. + +As for the major, he dropped to his knees, threw down his weapons and +plunged his arms up to the elbows in the sliding sparkle of the gems. +To have heard him babble, one would have given him free entrance into +any lunatic asylum. + +The only two who had remained appreciably calm were "Captain Alden" +and the Master. But even they, as fully as all the rest, forgot the +impending menace of attack. For a moment, even their ears were deaf +to the muffled tumult outside the door, their senses dulled to every +other thing in this world save the incredible hoard there in the +golden pits before them. + +Pain, exhaustion, defeat ceased to be, for the Legionaries. Ruin and +the shadow of Azrael's wing departed from their minds. For, bring what +the future might, the present was offering them a spectacle such as +never before in this world's history had the eyes of white men rested +on. + +Not even a man _in extremis_ could have turned away his gaze from the +unbelievable masses of shimmering wealth in those square pits of gold. + +Fairy tales and legends, "Arabian Nights," and all the mystic lore +of the East never conjured forth more brain-numbing plenitudes of +fortune, nor painted more stupefying beauty, than now gleamed up from +those eight excavations hewn in the dull, soft metal. + +"_Nom de Dieu!_" Leclair kept monotonously repeating. "_Mais, nom de +Dieu!_ Ah, the pigs--ah, the sacred pigs!" + +Disjointed words from the others--cries, oaths, jubilations--filled +the low-arched chamber, mingling in the stuffy air with lamp-smoke and +the dull scent of blood and dust and sweat. + +Wheezing breath, wordless cries, grunts, strange laughter sounded. +And, withal, the major's hands and arms in one of the pits made a +dry, slithering slide and click as he kneaded, worked, and stirred the +gems, dredged up fistfuls and let them rain down crepitantly, again. + +The sight was one very hard to grasp with any concrete understanding, +harder still to render in cold words. At first, it gave only a +confused impression of colors, like those in some vivid Oriental +rug. The details escaped observation; and these changed, too, as the +swaying of the lamps, in excited hands, shifted position. + +A shimmer of unearthly light played over the pits, like the thin, +colored flames at the edge of a driftwood fire. Soft, opalescent +gleams were blent with prismatic blues, greens, crimsons. Melting +violets were stabbed through by hard yellows and penetrant purples. +And here an orange flash vied with a delicate old rose; there a rich +carnation sparkled beside a misty gray, like fading clouds along the +dim horizons of fairyland. + +The Master murmured: "It's true, then--partly true. Rrisa knew part of +it!" + +"Not all?" asked the woman. + +"I hardly think the Caliph el Walid's gold was ever brought to Jannati +Shahr," he answered. "Coals to Newcastle, you know. And these jewels +are not all uncut. Some are finely faceted, some uncut. But in the +main Rrisa spoke the truth. He told what he believed." + +"Yes," assented the woman. Then she added: "Spartan simplicity, is it +not? No elaborate coffers. Not even leather sacks. Just bins, like so +much wheat." + +"The shining wheat of Araby!" + +"Of the whole Orient!" + +They fell silent, peering with fixed attention. And gradually some +calm returned to the others. At the door, too, the turmoil had ceased. +No doubt the Jannati Shahr men, baffled, had sent for much gunpowder +to blow in the massive planking. That silence became ominous. + +Still the Legionaries could take no thought of anything but the +Caliph el Walid's hoard. As they stood, squatted, or knelt around +the pits--pits about two and a half feet square and deeper than the +deepest thrust of any arm--it seemed to them that bottomless lakes +and seas of light were opening down, down below them into unfathomed +depths of beauty. + +Such beauty caused the soul to drink nepenthes of forgetfulness. +Hardships, wounds, blood, pain, menace of death faded under that +spell. That the Legionaries were trapped at the bottom of a vast +rabbit-warren, with swarms of Moslem ferrets soon to rush upon them, +now seemed to have no significance. + +Tranced, "indifferent to Fate," the adventurers peered on greater +wealth of jewels than ever elsewhere in this world's history had been +garnered in one place. The liquid light of the hoard flashed strange +radiances on their tanned, deep-lined faces, now smeared with sweat +and dust, with powder-grime and blood. Their eyes were beholding +unutterable rainbows, flashings and burning glows like those of the +Moslem's own Jebel Radhwa, or Mountain of Paradise. + +Each of these jewels--several million gems, at the least +computation--what a story it might have told! What a tale of remotest +antiquity, of wild adventures and romance, of love, hate, death! What +a revelation of harem, palace, treasury, of cavern, temple, throne! Of +Hindu ghat, Egyptian pyramid, Persian garden, Afghan fastness, Chinese +pagoda, Burmese minaret! Of enchanted moonlight, blazing sun, dim +starlight! Of passion and of pain! + +On what proud hand of Sultan, emir, cadi, prince, had this huge ruby +burned? On what beloved breast or brow of princess, nautch-girl, +concubine--yes, maybe of slave exalted to the purple--had that +fire-gleaming diamond blazed? + +From Roman times, from Greek, from ancient Jerusalem, from the +fire-breathing shrines of Baal at long-dead Carthage, perhaps, this +topaz might have come. This sapphire might have graced the anklet of +some beauty of old Nile, ages before King Solomon wielded the scepter, +ages even before the great god Osiris reigned. + +That amethyst might have been loot of the swift black galleys of Tyre, +in joyous days when men's strong arms took what they could, of women +or of gems, and when Power was Law! + +Imagination ran riot there, gazing down upon those jewel-pits. In them +lay every kind of precious stone for which, from remotest antiquity, +men had cheated, schemed, lied, fought, murdered. The jewels showed +no attempt at sorting or classification. With true Oriental +_laissez-faire_, they were all mingled quite at random; these gems, +any chance handfuls of which must have meant an incalculable fortune. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + + +BOHANNAN BECOMES A MILLIONAIRE + +Like men in a dream, after the first wild emotions had died, the +Legionaries peered down into this sea of light. Smoke from the lamps +rose toward the dim, low-arched roof. Blood from the Maghrabi's wounds +slowly spread and clotted on the golden floor. + +Without, a confused murmur told of resuming preparations to smash in +the door. And through it all, the dry clicking of the gems made itself +audible, as the major sifted them with shaking fingers. + +"Well, men," the Master laughed dryly, "here they are! Here are the +jewels of Jannati Shahr. Old Bara Miyan would probably have given us a +peck or two of them, for Myzab and the Great Pearl Star and the Black +Stone, if those hadn't been destroyed--" + +"How do you know they've been destroyed?" the major cried. "How do you +know but what we'll be rescued, here?" + +"If the bombardment had been going to begin, I think we'd have heard +something of it, by now. My judgment tells me there'll be no explosive +dropped on Jannati Shahr. + +"We've got to fight this thing through, unaided. And at any rate, we +don't have to limit ourselves to a peck or two of jewels. We've got +them all, now--or they've got us!" + +The irony of his tone made no impression on Bohannan. His mercurial +temperament seemed to have gone quite to pieces, in view of the hoard. +He cried: + +"Come on, then, boys! Fill up!" + +And with a wild laugh he began scooping the gems, hap-hazard, into the +pockets of his torn, battle-stained uniform. Jewels of fabulous price +escaped his fingers, like so many pebbles in a sand-pit, and fell +clicking to the golden floor. With shaking hands the major dredged +into the pit before him, mad with a very frenzy of greed. + +"Stop!" cried the Master, sternly. "No nonsense, now!" + +"What?" retorted Bohannan, angrily. His bruised, cut face reddened +ominously. + +"Drop those jewels, sir!" + +"Why?" + +"Principally because I order you to!" The Master's voice was cold, +incisive. "They're worthless, now. No make-weights! We can't have +make-weights at a time like this. To think of jewels at such an hour! +Throw them back!" + +A flash of rage distorted the major's face. His blue eyes burned with +strange fire. + +"Never!" he shouted, crouching there at the brink of the jewel-pit. +"Call it insubordination, mutiny, anything you like, but I'm going to +have my fill of these! Faith, but I _will_, now!" + +"Sir--" + +"I don't give a damn! Jewels for mine!" His voice rose gusty, raw, +wild. "I've been a soldier of fortune all my life, and that's how I'm +going to die. Poor, most of the time. Well, I'm going to die rich!" + +His philippic against poverty and discipline tumbled out in a torrent +of wild words, strongly tinged with the Irish accent that marked his +passionate excitement. He sprang to his feet, and--raging--faced his +superior officer. He shouted: + +"Sure, and I've knocked up and down this rotten old world all my life, +a rolling stone with never enough to bless myself with. And I've gone, +at the end, on this wild-goose chase of yours, that's led you and +me and all of us to a black death here in the bottom of a damned, +fantastic, Arabian city of gold! + +"That's all right, dying. That was in the bargain, if it had to be +done. Two-thirds of us are dead, already, a damn sight better men +than I am! We've been dying right along, from the beginning of this +crack-brained Don Quixote crusade. That's all right. But, faith! now +that it's my turn to die, by the holy saints I'm going to be well paid +for it!" + +Bohannan, eyes wild, struck his heaving breast with a huge fist and +laughed like a maniac. + +"That's all right, you reaching for your gun!" he defied the Master. +"Go ahead, shoot! I'm rich already. My pockets are half full. Shoot, +damn you, shoot!" + +The Master laughed oddly, and let his hand fall from the pistol-butt. + +"This," said he quite calmly, "is insanity." + +"Ha! Insanity, it is? Well then, let me be insane, can't you? It's a +good way to die. And I've _lived_, anyhow. We've all lived. We've all +had a Hell of a run for our money, and it's time to quit. + +"Shoot, if you want to--a few minutes more or less don't matter. But, +faith, I'll die a millionaire, and that's something I never +expected to be. Fine, fine! Give me a minute more, and I'll die +a multi-millionaire! Sure, imagine that, will you? Major Aloysius +Bohannan, gentleman-adventurer, a multi-millionaire! That's what I'll +be, and the man don't live that can stop me now!" + +With the laugh of a madman, the major fell to his knees again beside +the pit, plunged his hands once more into the gleaming, sliding mass +of wealth, and recommenced cramming his pockets. + +The Master laughed again. + +"It's quite immaterial, after all," said he. "I led you into this. +And now it's very nearly a case of _sauve qui peut_. The sooner your +pockets are full, to the extreme limit, the sooner something like +reason will return to you. Jewels being of interest to a man at +death's door--it's quite characteristic of you, Bohannan. Help +yourself!" + +"Thanks, I will!" Bohannan flung up at him, blood-drabbled face pale +and drawn by the flaring lamplight. "A _multi_-millionaire! Death? I +should worry! Help myself? Faith, I just will, that!" + +"Anyone else, here, feel so disposed?" the Master inquired. "If so, +get it over and done with. We've got fighting ahead, and we'd better +quench whatever thirst there is for wealth, first." + +No one made any move. Only Bohannan's mind had been unsettled by the +hoard, to the extent of wanting to possess it. Now that death loomed, +empty pockets were as good, to all the rest, as any other sort. + +"You're all a pack of damned fools!" Bohannan sneered. "You could die +richer than Rockefeller, every man-jack of you, and you--you don't +want to! Sure, it's _you_ that's mad, not me!" + +No one answered. They all stood peering down at him, their faces +tense, wounded, dirty; their eyes gleaming strangely; the shadow of +Azrael's wing already enfolding them. Then, a few detached themselves +from the little group and wandered off into the gloom, away from the +pits. Leclair muttered: + +"I prefer loading my automatic, to loading my pockets! Odd, the major +is, eh? Ah well, _a chacun sa chimere!_" + +"Everybody's weapons fully loaded?" the Master demanded. "Be sure they +are! And don't forget the mercy-bullets, men. These Arabs are rather +ingenious in their tortures. They make a specialty of crucifying +unbelievers--upside down. That sort of thing won't do, for us not for +fighting-men of the Legion!" + +Bohannan, laughing, stood up. Every pocket was a-bulge with +incalculable wealth. + +"Now I'm satisfied," he remarked in more rational tones. "I reckon I +must be worth more money, as I stand here, than any human being that +ever lived. You're looking at the richest man in the world, gentlemen! +And I'm going to die, the richest. If that's not some distinction, +what is? For a man that was bone-poor, fifteen minutes ago! Now, sir--" + +A sudden cry interrupted him. That cry came from "Captain Alden." + +"Here! Look here!" + +"What is it?" demanded the Master. He started toward her, while +outside the door sounded dull commands, as if the Arabs-now organized +to effective work-were already preparing to blow open the last barrier +between them and their victims. + +"What now?" the Master repeated, striding toward her. + +"_See! See here!_" + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII + + +A WAY OUT? + +The woman stood pointing into a black recess at the far end of the +crypt. All that the Master could discern there, at first, was a +darkness even greater than that which shrouded the corners of the +vault. + +"Light, here!" he commanded. Ferrara swung a lamp, by its chain, +into the recess. They saw a low, square opening in the wall of dull, +gleaming metal. + +"A passage, eh?" the Master ejaculated. + +"Maybe a _cul-de-sac_," she answered. "But--there's no telling--it may +lead somewhere." + +"By Allah! Men! Here--all of you!" + +The Master's voice rang imperatively. They all came trooping with +naked or slippered feet that slid in the wet redness of the floor. +Broken exclamations sounded. + +Seizing the lamp, the Master thrust it into the opening, which +measured no more than four feet high by three wide. The light smokily +illuminated about three yards of this narrow passage. Then a sharp +turn to the right concealed all else. + +Whither this runway might lead, to what peril or what trap it might +conduct them, none could tell. Very strongly it reminded the Master +of the gallery in the Great Pyramid of Gizeh, which he had seen +twelve years before--the gallery which in ancient days had served as a +death-trap for treasure-seekers. + +That gallery, he remembered, had contained a cleverly hidden stone +in its floor which once on a time had precipitated pilferers down a +vertical shaft more than a hundred feet, to death, in the bowels of +that huge, terrifying mausoleum. + +Was this passage of similar purpose and design? In all probability, +yes. Oriental ways run parallel in all the lands of the East. + +Nevertheless, the passage offered a means of escaping from the crypt. +And there, with the dead Maghrabi mudirs, the Legionaries could not +stay. In a few minutes now, at most, the men of Jannati Shahr would be +upon them. + +"Faith, what the devil now?" exclaimed Bohannan, now seeming quite +rational, as he peered into the cramped corridor. "Where to Hell does +this lead?" + +"Just where you've said, to Hell, it's far more than likely," the +Master retorted. "Come, men, into it! Follow me!" + +He stooped, lamp in one hand, simitar in the other, and in a most +cramped posture entered the passage. After him came Leclair, the +woman, Bohannan, and the others. + +The air hung close and heavy. The oppression of that stooping +position, the lamp-smoke, the unusual strain on the muscles, the +realization of a whole world of gold above and all about them, seemed +to strangle and enervate them. But steadily they kept on and on. + +The turning of the passage revealed a long, descending incline, that +sloped down at an angle of perhaps thirty degrees. A marked rise in +temperature grew noticeable. What might that mean? None could imagine, +but not one even thought of turning back. + +The walls and floor in this straight, descending passage were now no +longer smooth, arabesqued, polished. To the contrary, they showed a +rough surface, on which the marks of the chisel could be plainly seen +as it had shorn away the yielding metal in great gouges. Moreover, +streaks of black granite now began to appear; and these, as the +Legionaries advanced, became ever wider until at last the stone +predominated. + +The Master understood they were now coming to the bottom of part of +the golden dyke. Undeviated by the hard rock, the tunnel continued to +descend, with here and there a turn. Narrowly the Master scrutinized +the floor, tapping it with the simitar as he crept onward, seeking +indications of any possible trap that might hurl him into bottomless, +black depths. + +Quite at once, a right-angled turning opened into a small chamber not +above eight feet high by fifteen square. In this, silent, listening, +the sweating fugitives gathered. + +The temperature was here oppressive, and the lamps burned blue with +some kind of gas that stifled the lungs. Gas and smoke together, made +breathing hard. A dull, roaring sound had begun to make itself vaguely +audible, the past few minutes; and as the Legionaries stood listening, +this was now rather plain to their ears. + +"This is a devil of a place for a multi-millionaire, I must say!" +Bohannan exploded. Simonds laughed, with tense nerves. One or two +others swore, bitterly cursing the men of El Barr. + +The Master, "Captain Alden," and Leclair, however, gave no heed. +Already they were peering around, at the black walls where now only an +occasional thread of gold was to be seen. + +Five openings led out of this singular chamber, all equally dark, +narrow, formidable. + +"This seems to be a regular labyrinth, my Captain," said Leclair, in +French. "Surely a trap of some kind. They are clever, these Arabs. +They let the mouse run and hope, then--_voila_--he is caught!" + +"It looks that way. But we're not caught yet. These infernal +passageways are all alike, to me. We must choose one. Well--this is as +good as any." He gestured toward an aperture at the left. "Men, follow +me!" + +The passage they now entered was all of rock, with no traces whatever +of gold. For a few hundred feet its course was horizontal; then it +plunged downward like the first. + +And almost immediately the temperature began to mount, once more. + +"Faith, but I think we'd better be getting back!" exclaimed the major. +"I don't care much for this heat, or that roaring noise that's getting +louder all the time!" + +"You'll follow me, or I'll shoot you down!" the Master flung at him, +crouching around. "I've had enough insubordination from _you_, sir! +Not another word!" + +The stooping little procession of trapped Legionaries once more went +onward, downward. The muffled roar, ahead of them, rose in volume as +they made a final turning and came into a much more spacious vault +where moisture goutted from the black walls. A thin, steamy vapor was +rising from the floor, warm to the bare feet. + +A moment the Legionaries stood there, blinking in the vague lamplight, +glad of the respite that permitted them to straighten up and ease +cramped muscles. + +"No way out of _here_!" Bohannan grumbled. "Sure, we're at the end o' +nowhere. Now if we'd only taken another passage--" + +Nobody paid him any heed. The major's exhibition of irrational greed +had lost caste for him. Even Lebon, the orderly, curled a lip of scorn +at him. + +All eyes were eagerly searching for some exit from this ultimate pit. +Panting, reeking with sweat, fouled with blood and dirt, the doomed +men shuffled round the vault, blinking with bloodshot eyes. + +No outlet was visible. The vault seemed empty. But all at once, +Bristol uttered a cry. + +"Wine-sacks, by the living jingo!" he exclaimed. + +"Wine-sacks--in a Moslem city?" demanded the Master. "Impossible!" + +"What else are these, sir?" the Englishman asked, pointing. + + +The Master strode to the corner where he stood, and flared his lamp +over a score of distended goat-hides. + +"Well, by Allah!" he ejaculated. + +"Sacrificial wine," put in Leclair, at his elbow. "See the red seals, +with the imprint of the star and crescent, here and here?" He touched +a seal with his finger. "Rare old wine, I'll wager!" + +"Wine!" gulped the major, whose excitable nerves had been frayed to +madness. "Wine, by God! Faith, but it's the royal thirst I have on me! +Who's got a knife?" + +The Master thrust him back with such violence that he slipped on the +wet floor and nearly fell. + +"You'll get no knife, sir, and you'll drink no sacrificial wine!" he +cried, with more of anger in his voice than any of the Legion had yet +heard. "The jewels--yes, I gave you your fool's way, on those. But no +wine! + +"We of the Flying Legion are going to die, sober men! There'll be no +debauchery--no tradition handed down among those Moslem swine that +they butchered us, drunk. If any of you men want to die right now, +broach one of those wine-sacks!" + +His simitar balanced itself for action. The glint in his eye, by the +wavering lamp-shine, meant stern business. Not a hand was extended +toward the tautly distended sacks. + +Bohannan's whispered curse was lost in a startled cry from Wallace. + +"Here's something!" he exclaimed. "Look at this ring, will you?" + +They turned to him, away from the wine-bags. Wallace had fallen to his +knees and was scraping slime from the wet floor--the slime of ages of +dust mingled with viscid moisture from the steam that, thinly blurring +the dark air, had condensed on the walls and run down. + +Emilio thrust down the lamp he held. There on the stone floor, they +saw a huge, rust-red iron ring that lay in a circular groove cut in +the black granite. + +This ring was engaged in a metal staple let into the stone. And now, +as they looked more closely, and as some Legionaries scraped the floor +with eager hands, a crack became visible in the floor of the vault. + +"Look out, men!" the Master cautioned. "This may be a trap that will +swing open and drop us into God knows what! Stand back, all--take your +time, now! Go slow there!" + +They heeded, and stood back. The Master himself, assuming all risks, +got down on hands and knees and explored the crack in the floor. It +was square, with a dimension of about five feet on the edge. + +"It's a trap-door, all right," he announced. "And we--are going to +open it!" + +"One would need a rope or a long lever to do that, my Captain," put +in Leclair. "It is obvious that a man, or men, standing on the trap, +could not raise it. And it is too large to straddle." + +The Master arose, stripped off his tunic and passed it through +the ring. He twisted the tunic and gave one end to the lieutenant. +Himself, he took the other. + +"Get hold, everybody!" he commanded. "And be sure you're not standing +on the trap!" + +All laid hold on the ends of the coat. With a "One, two, +three!" from the Master, the Legionaries threw all their muscle into +the lift. "Now, men! Heave her once more!" + +The stone gave. The Legionaries doubled their efforts, with panting +breath, feet that slipped on the dank floor, grunts of labor. + +"Heave her!" + +Up swung the stone, aside. It slid over the wet rock. There, in its +place, gaped a black hole that penetrated unknown depths. + +Steam billowed up--or rather, vapor distinctly warm to the touch. And +from very far below, much louder boomed the roar of rushing waters. +The Legionaries knew, now, what had caused the dull, roaring sound. +Unmistakably a furious cascade was boiling, swirling away, down there +at undetermined distances of blackness. + +The boldest men among the little group of fugitives felt the crawl and +fingering of a very great dread at their hearts. Behind them lay the +labyrinth, with what pitfalls none could tell and with the Jannati +Shahr men perhaps already penetrating into the crypt. Around them +loomed the black, wet walls of this lowest stone dungeon with but one +other exit--the pit at their feet. + +The Master threw himself prone on the slippery floor, took one of the +lamps and lowered it, by the chain, to its capacity. Smoke and vapor +arose about his head as he peered down. + +"Well, what is it?" demanded Bohannan, also squinting down, as he bent +over the hole. "What do you see?" + +"Nothing," the Master answered. "Nothing definite." + +He could, in fact, be sure of nothing. But it seemed to him that, very +far below, he could make out something like a swift, liquid blackness, +streaked with dim-speeding lines of white that dissolved with +phantasmagoric rapidity; a racing flood that roared and set the solid +rock a-quiver in its mad tumult. + +"Faith, an underground river of hot water!" ejaculated the Irishman +with an oath. "Some river!" + +"Warm water, at any rate," the Master judged, getting up again. A +strange smile was in his eyes, by the smoky lamplight. "Well, men, +this is our way out. The Arabs are not going to have any slaughter +of victims, here. And what is more, they'll capture no dead bodies +of white men, in _this_ trap! There'll be at least ten skulls missing +from that interesting golden Pyramid of Ayeshah!" + +"For God's sake!" the major stammered. "What--what are you going +to--do, now? Jump down that shaft?" + +"Exactly. Your perspicacity does you credit, Major." + +"Sure, you'll never catch _me_ jumping!" + +"Gentlemen," the Master said, in a low, quiet voice, "I regret to +state that we have one coward among us." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII + + +THE RIVER OF NIGHT + +The major's clenched fist was caught as it drove, by a scientific +guard from the Master's right. The Master dropped his lamp, and with a +straight left-hander sprawled Bohannan on the slimy pave. Impersonally +he stood over the crazed Celt. + +"Will you jump, voluntarily," demanded he, "or shall we be under the +painful necessity of having to throw you down that pit?" + +Enough rationality remained in the major to spur his pride. He crawled +to his feet, chastened. + +"You win, sir," he answered. "Who goes first?" + +A dull reverberation shuddered the rock, the air. + +"_Vive Nissr_!" exulted Leclair. "Ah, now our men, they attack the +city!" + +"I'm sorry to disillusion you," the Master answered, "but my explosive +produces an entirely different type of concussion. What we have just +heard is the blowing-in of the treasure-crypt door. There's no time to +lose, now. Who jumps, first?" + +"Wait a minute!" cried "Captain Alden." Her eyes were gleaming through +the mask, with keen excitement. "Why neglect any chance of possibly +surviving?" + +"What do you mean?" the Master demanded. + +"Those wine-sacks!" + +"Well?" + +"Emptied, inflated, and tied up again, they'll float us! It's the +oldest kind of device used in the Orient!" + +"By Allah, inspiration! Quick, men, the wine-skins!" + +Himself, he set the example. Knife in hand, while Emilio held the lamp +for him, he crumbled the seals on one of the goat-skins, then cut +the leather thong that secured the neck, and quickly unwound it. He +dragged the sack to the black pit and tipped it up. + +With a gulp and a gurgle, the precious old wine, clear ruby under the +dim light, gushed away down the steaming shaft that plunged to the +River of Night. + +"Oh, faith now, but that's a damned shame, sir!" Bohannan protested, +rubbing an ugly welt on his brow. His voice was thick, dull, +unnatural. Madness glimmered in his blinking eyes. "With the blessed +tongue of me parched to a cinder! And wine like that! Here, sir--take +a handful of diamonds, or whatever, and give me just one little +drink!" + +'"'Bristol! Restrain that man!" the Master ordered. "If you can't +handle him, get help!" + +As a couple of Legionaries laid hands on the major, another voice +spoke up. It was that of Ferrara, the Italian ace: + +"The major is right, sir, in spite of all! Good wine in our throats +would make death less bitter. 'We who are about to die, salute +thee'--and ask wine!" + +The Master peered sharply from beneath black brows. Discipline seemed +crumbling. Now at what might be, perhaps, the last minute of his +command, was the Master's word to be made light of? Were his orders to +be gainsaid? + +"No wine!" he flung at all of them, his voice tense as wire. "Who says +we are about to die? Why, there may be a fighting chance, even yet! +This underground river may come to light, somewhere. And if it does, +it may bear us back to day, again. + +"But the confusion of wine may just turn the scale against our getting +through. No wine! We started on that basis. That's the basis we're going +through on. No wine, I say--no wine!" + +Murmurs answered him, but no man dared rebel. Discipline still gripped +the Legionaries. The Master drove them to labor. "Come, quick now! +Prepare a sack, apiece! I'll show you how!" + +He set lips to the emptied skin, and with many lungfuls of strong +breath inflated it. The leather thong tightly wrapped the neck. He +doubled that neck over, and took more turns with the thong, then tied +it in a tight square knot. + +"Get to work, men!" he ordered. "To work!" + +They obeyed. Even the major, brain-shaken as he was, fell in with +the orders. The floor, all round the black pit, ran red with precious +wine, a single cupful of which would have delighted the heart of the +world's most Lucullian gourmet. + +Up from that floor and from the jetty, steaming walls of the pit +drifted ambrosial perfume that evoked visions of ancient vineyards +where, under the Eastern sun, bloomy clusters of grape--mayhap even +the very grape sung by the Tent-maker--hung ripening. + +Still, none stooped to the mouths of the wine-skins, to taste. None +drank from cupped palm. Dry-mouthed, hot, panting, the Legionaries +still obeyed. And thus the rare wine of Araby ran guttering to the +unseen blackness of the mystery river far below. + +The Master, hands on hips, watched this labor; and as he watched he +laughed. + +"Whatever comes to us, men," judged he, "we are here and now doing +great evil to the men of El Barr. My only regret is that we haven't +time to return up through the labyrinth, to the jewel-crypt, fill the +skins with jewels and dump them all down this shaft like the wine. +These Moslem swine would then remember us, many a long day. Ah, well, +some day we may come back--who knows?" + +He fell silent, while the last of the skins were being filled and +lashed. The last, that is to say, needed by the Legionaries. Ten in +all, were now blown up and securely tied. But a good many more still +remained full of the rare wine. + +With his simitar, the Master slashed these quickly, one by one. + +"They took our blood," he cried. "We have taken theirs--and their +wine, too. And have destroyed Myzab and the Black Stone, no doubt. +Well, it's a bargain!" + +"C'est egal!" exclaimed Leclair. "More than that, eh, my Captain?" + +The Master returned to the shaft, his bare feet red through the run +and welter of the wine on the stone floor. + +"Now men," said he, crisply, as he flung down the pit his simitar +which could have no further use, "this may be the final chapter. Our +Legion was organized for adventure. We've had it. No one can complain. +If it's good-bye, now--so be it. + +"There may be a chance, however, of winning through. Hold fast to +your goat-skins; and if the hidden river isn't too hot, and if there's +head-room, some of us may get through to daylight. Let us try to +reassemble where we find the first practicable stopping-place. If the +Jannati Shahr men are waiting for us, there, don't be taken alive. +Remember! + +"Now, give me your hand, each one, and--down the shaft with you!" + +Simonds went first, boldly, without a quiver of fear. Silently and +with set jaw, he shook hands with the Master, clutched a distended +wine-bag in both arms, and quickly leaped. + +His body vanished, instantly, from sight. Steam and darkness swallowed +it. Far below, a dull splash told of his disappearance. + +Lebon followed, after having given his torture-twisted hand to his +beloved lieutenant, as well as to the Master. + +"Notre Pere qui etes aux cieux!" he stammered, as the pit received +him. + +Then went Wallace, Ferrara, and Emilio. Of these three, only the last +showed anything resembling the white feather. Emilio's face was waxen, +with staring eyes reflecting unspeakable horror, as he took the leap +into the River of Night. But he went mutely, with no outcry. + +Bristol, sheathed in imperturbable British aplomb, remarked: + +"Well, so long, boys! This is jolly beastly, eh? But we'll meet on +that beautiful shore!" + +Then he, too, jumped into the black. + +Leclair, inappropriately enough, leaped with a shout of: "Vive la +France!" + +Now only Bohannan, "Captain Alden," and the Master were left. + +"You're next, Major!" the Master ordered, pointing at +the inexorable black mouth of the pit, whence rose the thin, +wraith-spirals of vapor. + +"I'm ready!" exclaimed the major. "Sure, what's better than a hot bath +after the heavy exercise we've been having?" His voice rose buoyantly +over the drumming roar of the mysterious, underground torrent. "Ready, +sir! But if you'll only give me one wee sup of good liquor, sir, I'll +die like an Irishman and a gentleman--of fortune!" + +"No, liquor, Major," the Master answered, shaking his head. "Can't you +see for yourself all the wine-sacks are cut?" + +"Cut, is it? Well, well, so they are!" The major blinked redly. +Obviously his confused mind had not grasped the situation. "Well, +sure, that's a pity, now." And he fell to gnawing that tawny mustache +of his. + +"Come Major, you're next!" the Master bade him. "Take your wine-skin +and jump!" + +Clarity of mind for a moment returned to Bohannan. Gallantly he shook +hands with the Master, saluted "Captain Alden," and picked up his +wine-sack. + +"It's a fine whirl we've had," he affirmed, with one of his old-time +smiles, his teeth gleaming by the light of the silver lamp in the +Master's hand. "No man could ask a better." + +I'd rather have seen what I've seen, and done what I've done, and now +jump to Hell and gone, than be safe and sound this minute on Broadway. + +"Please overlook any little irregularities of conduct, sir My brain, +you know, and--well, good-bye!" + +Calmly he picked up his sack and without more ado jumped into the +void. + +"Now," said the Master, when "Captain Alden" and he remained alone. +"Now--you and I!" + +"Yes," the woman answered. "You and I, at last!" + +The Master set down his lamp on the floor all wet with condensed vapor +and wine. He loosened the buckles of her mask, took the mask off and +tossed it into the pit. + +"Finis, for _that_!" said he, and smiled strangely. "You aren't going +to be handicapped by any mask, in whatever struggle lies ahead of us. +If you get through to the world, and to life again, you get through as +a woman. + +"If not, you die as one. But the disguise is done with, and gone. You +understand me!" + +"Yes. I understand," she answered, and stood peering up at him. Not +even the white welts and ridges cut in her flesh by the long wearing +of the mask could make her face anything but very beautiful. Her +wonderful eyes mirrored far more, as they looked into this strange +man's, than would be easy to write down in words. + +"I understand," she repeated. "If this is death, I couldn't have +dreamed or hoped for a better one. In that, at least, we can be +eternally together--you and I!" + +Silence fell, save for the shuddering roar of the black river, that +rose with vapors from the dark pit. Man and woman, they searched out +each other's souls with their gaze. + +Then all at once the Master took her hand, and brought it to his heart +and held it there. The lamp-shine, obliquely striking upward from the +floor, cast deep shadows over their faces; and these shadows seemed +symbolic of the shadows of death closing about them at this hour of +self-revelation. + +"Listen," said the Master, in a wholly other voice from any that +had ever come from his lips. "I am going to tell you something. At a +moment like this, a man speaks only the exact truth. This is the exact +truth. + +"In all the years of my life and in all my wanderings up and down this +world, I have never seen a woman--till now--whom I felt that I could +love. I have lived like an anchorite, celled in absolute isolation +from womankind. Incredible as it may seem to you, I have never even +kissed a woman, with a kiss of love. But--I am going to kiss you, +now." + +He took her face in both his hands, drew it up for a moment, gazed +at it with a fixity of passion that seemed to burn. The woman's eyes +drooped shut. Her lips yearned to his. Then his stern arms in-drew her +to his breast, and for a moment she remained there, silently. + +All at once he put her from him. + +"Now, go!" he commanded. "I shall follow, close. And wait for me--if +there is any waiting!" + +He picked up one of the two remaining wine-sacks, and put it into her +hands. + +"Cling to this, through everything!" he commanded. "Cling, as you love +life. Cling, as you share my hope for what may be, if life is granted +us! And--the mercy-bullet, if it comes to that! + +"Now--good-bye!" + +She smiled silently and was gone. + +The Master, now all alone, stood waiting yet a moment. His face was +bloodless. His lower lip was mangled, where his teeth had nearly met, +through it. + +Already, a confused murmur of sound was developing, from the black +opening of the passage that had led the Legionaries down to this crypt +of the wine-sacks and the pit. + +He smiled, oddly. + +"Many a corpse has been flung down this _oubliette_," said he. "I hate +to go, without emptying my pistol into a few more of the Moslem swine, +and dropping them down here to join my people. But--I must!" + +He bent, gathered together the silver lamps left by his men, and threw +them all into the abyss. Blackness, absolute, blotted the reeking +chamber from his sight. + +The faintest possible aura of light began to loom from the mouth +of the passage. More distinctly, now, the murmur of Arab voices was +becoming audible. + +The Master leaped. + +Far below, at the bottom of the pit, as the Arabs burst into the +wine-vault, sounded a final impact of some heavy body striking swift +water that swept it instantly away. + +Then silence filled the black, rock-hewn chamber in the labyrinthine +depths of Jannati Shahr. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX + + +THE DESERT + +The Desert. + +Four men, one woman. + +Save for these five living creatures, all was death. All was that +great emptiness which the Arabs call "La Siwa Hu"--that is to say, the +land "where there is none but He." + +Over terrible spaces, over immense listening silences of hard, +unbroken dunes extending in haggard desolation to fantastic horizons +of lurid ardor, hung a heat-quivering air of deathlike stillness. +Redder than blood, a blistering sun-ball was losing itself behind far, +iron hills of black basalt. A flaming land it was, naked and bare, +scalped and flayed to the very bones of its stark skeleton. + +Heavily, and with the dazed look of beings who feel themselves lost +yet still are driven by the life within them to press on, the five +fugitives--pitiable handful of the Legion--were plodding south-west, +toward the sunset. + +The feet of all were cut and bleeding, in spite of rags torn from +their tattered uniforms and bound on with strips of cloth; for +everywhere through the sand projected ridges of vertical, sharp +stone--the black basalt named by the Arabs _Hajar Jehannum_, or "Rock +of Hell." As for their uniforms, though now dry as bone, the way in +which they were shrunken and wrinkled told that not long ago they had +been drenched in water of strongly mordant qualities. + +Each figure bore, on its bent back, a goat-skin bag as heavily filled +with water as could be carried. Strongly alkaline as that water was, +corroding to the mouth and nauseous to the taste, still the refugees +were clinging to it. For only this now stood between them and one +of the most hideous deaths known to man--the death of thirst in the +wilderness. + +The woman's face, in spite of pain, anxiety, weariness, retained +its beauty. Her heavy masses of hair, bound up with cloth strips, +protected her head from "the great enemy," the sun. As for the others, +they had improvised rough headgear from their torn shirts, ingeniously +tied into some semblance of _cherchias_. Above all, the Legionaries +knew that they must guard their heads from the direct rays of the +desert sun. + +In silence, all plodded on, on, toward the bleeding sphere that, now +oblate through flaming mists, was mercifully sinking to rest. No look +of surprise marked the face of any man, that "Captain Alden" was in +reality a woman. The Legionaries' anguish, the numbing, brutalizing +effects of their recent experience had been too great for any minor +emotions to endure. They had accepted this fact like all others, as +one of a series of incredible things that had, none the less, been +true. + +For a certain time the remnant of the Legion dragged itself +south-westward, panting, gasping, wasting no breath in speech. Leclair +was first to utter words. + +"Let us rest a little while, _mon capitaine_," said he in a hoarse, +choking voice. "Rest, and drink again. I know the desert. Many +hundreds of miles lie between us and the coast. Nothing can be gained +by hastening, at first. All may be lost. Let us rest, at all events, +until that cursed sun has set!" + +In silence the Master cast down his water-bag, at the bottom of the +little, desolate valley of gravel through which the fugitives were now +toiling. All did the same, and all sat down--or rather, fell--upon the +hot earth. + +Very different, now, this land was from what it had seemed as they +had soared above it, at cool altitudes, in the giant air-liner; very +different from the cool, green plain of El Barr, behind the grim black +line of the Iron Mountains now a dim line off to eastward. + +The sprawling collapse of the Legionaries told more eloquently than +any words the exhaustion that already, after only four hours' trek, +was strangling the life out of them. + +For a while they lay there motionless, unthinking, brutalized by +fatigue and pain. With their present condition as an earnest of what +was yet to come, what hope had any that even one of them would live to +behold the sparkle of the distant Red Sea? Even though unmolested by +pursuit from Jannati Shahr or by attack from any wandering tribes of +the Black Tent People, what hope could there be? + +Gradually some coherence of thought returned to the Master. He sat up, +painfully, and blinked with reddened eyes at the woman. She was lying +beside her water-bag, seemingly asleep. The Master's face drew into +lines of anguish as he looked at her. + +With bruised fingers he loosened the thong of his own water-bag, and +tore still another strip from his remnant of shirt. He poured a little +of the precious water on to this rag, lashed the water-sack tight +again, and with the warm, wet rag bathed the woman's face, brow, and +throat. + +Her closed lids did not open. No one paid any attention. No one +even stirred. The cloth grew dry, almost at once, as the thirsty air +absorbed its moisture. The Master pocketed it. Elbows on knees, head +between hands, he sat there pondering. + +In thought he was living over again the incredible events of the +past hours, as they had been presented to his own experience. He was +remembering the frightful, dizzying plunge down the black pit into the +steaming waters of the River of Night--waters which, had they been but +a few degrees hotter, would incontinently have ended everything on the +instant. + +He was recalling, as in a nightmare, his frenzied battle for life, +clinging to the inflated goat-skin--the whirl and thunder of +unseen cataracts in the blind dark--the confusion of deafening, +incomprehensible violences. + +He was bringing back to mind the long, swift, smooth rushing of mighty +waters through midnight caverns where echoes had told of a rock-roof +close above; then, after an indeterminate time of horror that might +have been minutes or hours, a weltering maelstrom of leaping waters--a +graying of light on swift-fleeing walls; a sudden up-boiling gush of +the strangling flood that whelmed him--and all at once a glare of +sun, a river broadening out through palm-groves far beyond the Iron +Mountains. + +All these things, blurred, unreal, heartshaking as evil visions of +fever, the Master was remembering. Then came other happenings: a +long drift with resistless currents, the strange phenomenon of the +lessening stream that dwindled as thirsty sands absorbed it, and the +ceasing of the palms. + +Last of all, the river had diminished to a shallow, tortuous delta, +where the Master's numbed feet had touched bottom. There he had +dragged himself ashore, with his goatskin, far more dead than living. +And there, for a time he knew not, consciousness had wholly ceased. + +A dull, toneless voice sounded in the Master's ears. Bohannan was +speaking. + +"Faith, but it's strange how even the five of us found each other, out +there in the sand," said the major. "What happened to the rest of us, +God knows--maybe!" He choked, coughed, added: "Or to the boys with +Nissr. God rest their souls! I wish I had a sackful of that wine!" +After a long pause: "Don't you, now? What?" + +The Master gave no heed. He was trying to ease the position in which +the woman was lying. His jacket was off, now, and he was folding it to +put under her head. + +At his touch, she opened vague eyes. She smiled with dry lips, and put +his hand away. + +"No, no!" she protested. "No special favors for me! I'm not a woman, +remember. I'm 'Captain Alden,' still--only a Legionary!" + +"But--" + +"If you favor me in any way, to the detriment of any of the others +or your own, I won't go on! I'm just one of you. Just one of the +survivors, on even terms with the rest. It's give-and-take. I mean +that! You've got to understand me!" + +The Master nodded. He knew that tone. Silently he put on his jacket, +again. + +The lieutenant's orderly, Lebon, groaned and muttered a prayer to the +Virgin. Leclair sat up, heavily, and blinked with sand-inflamed eyes. + +"Time to drink again, _n'est-ce pas_, my Captain?" asked he. "Drink to +the dead!" + +"I hope they are dead, rather than prisoners!" exclaimed the Master. +"Yes, we'll drink, and get forward. We've got to make long strides, +tonight. Those Jannati Shahr devils may be after us, tomorrow. Surely +will, if they investigate that delta and find only a few bodies. +They'll conclude some of us have got through. And if they pick up our +trail, with those white dromedaries of theirs--" + +"The sacred pigs!" ejaculated Leclair. "Ah, _messieurs_, now you begin +to know the Arabs as I have long known them." With eyes of hate and +pain he peered back at the darkening line of the Iron Mountains. + +Bohannan, already loosening the neck of his goat-skin, laughed +hoarsely. + +"No wine!" he croaked, "and the water's rationed; even the stinking +water. But the food isn't--good reason, too; there isn't any. Pockets +full of gems!" He slapped one hard pocket. "I'd swap the lot for a +proper pair of shoes and a skin o' that wine! Faith--that wine, now--" + +The woman suddenly sat up, too, one hand on the hot gravel, the other +raised for silence. + +"Hark!" she whispered. "Sh!" + +"What now?" demanded the Master. + +"Bells! Camel-bells!" + +"_Nom d'un, nom!_" And the lieutenant drew his gun. + +The five fugitives stiffened for another battle. They looked well to +their weapons. The Master's weariness and pain were forgotten as he +crawled on hands and knees up the side of the little wady. The sound +of distant camel-bells, a thin, far quiver of sound, had now reached +his ears and those of the other men, less sensitive than the woman's. + +Over the edge of the wady he peered, across a _wa'ar_, or stony ground +covered with mummified scrub. Beyond, a blanched salt-plain gleamed +hoar-white in the on-coming dusk; and farther off, the dunes began +again. + +Strangely enough, the Master laughed. He turned and beckoned, +silently. The others joined him. + +"From the west!" he whispered. "This is no pursuit! It is a caravan +going to Jannati Shahr!" + +Bohannan chuckled, and patted his revolver. + +"Faith, but Allah is being good to us!" he muttered. "Now, when it +comes to a fight--" + +"Ten dromedaries--no, nine--" Leclair judged. + +"And six camel-drivers," put in the woman, gun in hand. "A small +caravan!" + +"Hold your fire, all!" commanded the Master. "They're headed right +across this wady. Wait till I give the word; then rush them! And--no +prisoners!" + + + + +CHAPTER L + + +"WHERE THERE IS NONE BUT ALLAH" + +An hour after sundown, four Legionaries pushed westward, driving the +gaunt, mange-stained camels. In the sand near the wady lay buried +Leclair and all the camel-drivers, with the sand smoothed over them so +as to leave as little trace as possible. + +Leclair had come to the death of all deaths he would have most +abominated, death by ruse at the hands of an Arab. Not all his long +experience with Arabs had prevented him from bending over a dead +camel-driver. The dead man had suddenly revived from his feigned death +and driven a _jambiyeh_ into the base of the lieutenant's throat. That +the lieutenant's orderly had instantly shattered the cameleer's skull +with a point-blank shot had not saved Leclair. + +The four survivors, in addition to burying all the bodies, had buried +the copper bars the caravan had been freighting to Jannati Shahr. +They had saved the scant food and water of the drivers, also their +clothing, slippers, daggers, long rifles, and ammunition. + +Now, dressed like Arabs--the best of all disguises in case of being +sighted by pursuers or by wandering Black Tent tribes, from far +off--they were trekking westward again, riding four of the camels and +leading the others. + +For a week of Hell the failing beasts, already half dead of thirst +when captured, bore them steadily south-west, toward the coast. Twice +there rose spirals of smoke, in the desert distances; but whether +these were from El Barr pursuers or were merely Bedouin encampments +they could not tell. + +Merciless goading kept the camels going till they dropped dead, one by +one. + +By the end of the fourth day only three remained. Lebon methodically +cut up every one that perished, for water, but found none in any +stomach. + +The fugitives sighted no oasis. They found no wady other than +stone-dry. By day they slept, by night pushed forward. Day by day +they grew weaker and less rational. The increasing nerve-strain that +possessed them was companioned by the excruciating torture of their +bodies racked by the swaying jolt of camel-riding. + +But they still kept organization and coherence. Still, guided by +the stars that burned with ardent trembling in the black sky, they +followed their chosen course. + +Morning heat-mist, noontide glare, wind like a beast with flaming +breath, a sky terrible in its stainless beauty, an inescapable +sun-furnace that seemed to boil the brains in their skulls--all these +and the mockery of mirages that made every long white line of salt +efflorescence a lake of cooling waters, brought the four tortured +Legionaries close to death. + +Awaking toward evening of the fifth day, the Master discovered one of +the three camels gone--the one on which he had been riding with the +woman, lest she fall fainting to the sand. With this camel, Major +Bohannan had likewise disappeared. His big-shouldered, now emaciated +figure in its dirty-white burnous was nowhere visible. Only prints of +soft hoof-pads, leading off to north-eastward, betrayed the line of +flight. + +The Master pondered a while as he sat there, dazed, blinking at the +desert all purple, gold, and tawny-red. His inflamed eyes, stubbly +beard and gaunt cheeks made him a caricature of the man he had been, +ten days before. After a little consideration, he awakened the woman +and Lebon. + +The verdict on Bohannan was madness, mirage, desertion. + +For two days the major had been babbling of wine and water, been +beholding things that were not, been hurling jewels at imaginary +vultures. Now, well, the desert had got him. + +To pursue would have been insanity. They got the two remaining camels +up, by dint of furious beating and of hoarse eloquence in Arabic +from the Master and Lebon. Once more, knowing themselves doomed, they +pushed into the eye of the flaming west, over the savage gorgeousness +of the Empty Abodes. In less than an hour the double-laden camel fell +to its knees and incontinently died. + +Lebon dismounted from the one surviving animal, and stepped fair into +a scorpion's nest. The horrible little gray creature, striking up over +its back with spiked tail, drove the deadly barb half an inch into the +orderly's naked ankle. + +The Master scarified, sucked, and cauterized the wound. Nothing +availed. Lebon, in his depleted condition, could not fight off the +poison. Thirty minutes later, swollen and black, he died in a frothing +spasm, his last words a hideous imprecation on the Arabs who had +enslaved and tortured him-a curse on the whole race of Moslems. + +Shaken with horror, the woman and the man buried Lebon, loaded the +remaining water-bags, the guns and food on to the one camel and +dragged themselves away on foot, driving the spent beast. Obviously +this camel could not go far. Blindness had stricken it, and its black +lips were retracted with the parch of thirst. + +They gave it half a skin of water, and goaded it along with +desperation. Everything now depended on this camel. Even though +it could not carry them, it could bear the burden of their scant +supplies. Without it, hope was lost. + +All that night they drove the tortured camel. It fell more and more +often. The Master spared it not. For on its dying strength depended +the life of the woman he loved. + +The camel died an hour before dawn. Not even vultures wheeled across +the steely sky. The Master cut from its wasted flanks a few strips of +meat and packed them into one of the palm-stick baskets that had held +the cameleers' supplies. With them he packed all the remaining food--a +few lentils, a little goat's-milk cheese, and a handful of dates fried +in clarified butter. + +This basket, with a revolver and a handful of cartridges, also the +extra slippers taken from Leclair and the orderly, made all the burden +the woman could carry. The Master's load, heavier far, was one of the +water-skins. + +This load, he knew, would rapidly lighten. As it should diminish, +faster than the woman's, he would take part of hers. Thus, as best +they could, they planned the final stage of their long agony. + +Before starting again, they sat a while beside the gaunt, mangled +camel, held council of war and pledged faith again. They drank a +little of the mordant water that burned the throat and seemed in no +wise to relieve the horrible thirst that blackened their lips and +shriveled all their tissues. + +"I think," the Master gasped, "we can make an hour or so before the +sun gets too bad." He squinted at the crimson and purple banderoles +of cloud through which, like the eye of a fevered Cyclops, the sun was +already glowering. Already the range of obsidian hills ahead of them, +the drifted sands all fretted with wind-waves, the whole iron plain of +the desert was quivering with heat. "Every hour counts, now. Before we +start, let us agree to certain things." + +She nodded silently, crouching beside him on the sand. He drew an +emaciated arm about her and for a moment peered down into her face. +But he did not kiss her. A kiss, as they both were--some fine delicacy +of the soul seemed telling him--would have been mockery. + +"Listen," he commanded. "We must strictly ration the food and water. +You must help me keep to that ration. I will help you. We must be +careful about scorpions. Above all, we must beware of mirages. You +understand?" + +"I understand," she whispered. + +"If either of us sees palms or water, that one must immediately +tell the other. Then, if the other does not also see them, that is a +mirage. We must not turn aside for anything like that, unless we both +see it. I am speaking rationally, now that I can. Remember what I +say!" + +Silently she nodded. He went on: + +"Now that we can still think, we must weigh every contingency. Our +only hope lies in our helping each other. Alone, either of us will +be led away by mirages in a little while. That kind of death must be +spared us. We both live or die, together." + +She smiled faintly, with parched lips. + +"Do you think I would leave you," she asked, "any more than you would +leave me? The pact is binding." + +He pressed her hand. + +"Come," said he. "Let us go!" + +Once more they got to their feet, and set out to south-westward, over +a scorching plain of crumbling, nitrous mud-flakes. Laden as they +were, they could barely shuffle one foot after the other. But blessed +lapses of consciousness now and then relieved their agony. + +Conscious or not, the life within them drove them onward, ever onward; +slow, crawling things that all but blindly moved across the land of +death, _La Siwa Hu_--"where there is none but Allah." + + + + +CHAPTER LI + + +TORTURE + +How that day passed, they knew not. Nature is kind. When agony grows +too keen, the All-mother veils the tortured body with oblivion. + +Over blood-colored stretches swept by the volcano-breath of the +desert, through acacia barrens and across basaltic ridges the two +lonely figures struggled on and on. They fell, rested, slept a +nightmare sleep under the furious heat, got up again and dragged +themselves once more along. + +Now they were conscious of plains all whitened with saltpeter, now of +scudding sand-pillars--wind-_jinnee_ of the Empty Abodes--that danced +and mocked them. Again, one or the other beheld paradisical, gleaming +lakes, afar. + +But though they had lost the complete rationality that would have +bidden them lie quiet all day, and trek only at night, they still +remembered the pact of the mirages. And since never both beheld the +same lake, they held each other from the fatal madness that had slain +Bohannan. + +Their only speech was when discussing the allurements of beckoning +waters which were but air. + +At nightfall, toiling up over the lip of a parched, chalky _nullah_ +that sunset turned to amethyst, a swarm of howling Arabs suddenly +attacked them. The Master flung himself down, and fired away all +his ammunition, in frenzy. The woman, catching his contagion, did +likewise. + +No shots came back; and suddenly the Arabs vanished from the man's +sight. When he stumbled forward to the place where they had been, he +discovered no dead bodies, not even a footprint. + +Nothing was there but a clump of acacias, their twisted thorns parched +white. They had been shooting at only fantasms of their own brains. +Now, even the mercy-bullets were gone. + +Bitterly the man cursed himself, as he thrust the now useless pistol +back into its holster. The woman, however, smiled with dry lips, and +from her belt took out a little, flattened piece of lead--the bullet +which, fired at _Nissr_ from near the Ka'aba, had fallen at her feet +and been picked up by her as a souvenir. + +"Here is a bullet," said she chokingly. "You can cut this in two and +shape it. We can reload two shells with some of the Arab powder. It +will do!" + +They laughed irrationally. More than half mad as they now were, +neither one thought of the fact that they had no percussion-caps. + +Still laughing, they sat down in the hot sand, near the clawlike +distortions of the acacias. Consciousness lapsed. They slept. The +sun's anger faded; and a steel moon, long after, slid up the sky. + +Next day, many miles to south-westward of the acacias, Kismet--toying +with them for its own delectation--respited them a little while by +stumbling them on to a deserted oasis. They turned aside to this only +after a long, irrational discussion. The fact that they could both +see the same thing, and that they had really come to palm trees--trees +they could touch and feel--gave them fresh courage. + +Little enough else they got there. The cursed place, just a huddle of +blind, mud huts under a dozen sickly trees, had been swept clean some +time ago by the passage of a swarm of those voracious locusts known as +_jarad Iblis_ (the locusts of Satan). + +Nothing but bare branches remained in the _nakhil_, or grove. Nothing +at all was to be found in the few scrubby fields about the well now +choked with masses of the insects. Whoever the people of this squalid +settlement had been, all were gone. The place was almost as bare as if +the sun's flames, themselves, had flared down and licked the village +to dust and ashes. + +All the sufferers found, of any worth, was a few handfuls of dry dates +in one of the hovels and a water-jar with about two quarts of brackish +water. + +This water the Master discovered, groping half blind through the hut. +Stale as it was, it far surpassed the strongly chemicalized water of +the River of Night, still remaining in the goat-skin. It smote him +with the most horrible temptation of his life. All the animal in his +nature, every parched atom of his body shouted. + +"Take it! Drink, drink your fill! She will never know. Take it, and +drink!" + +He seized the water-jar, indeed, but only to carry it with shaking +hands to her, where she lay in the welcome shadow of the hut. His lips +were black with thirst as he raised her head and cried to her: + +"Here is water--real water! Drink!" + +She obeyed, hardly more than half conscious. He gave her all he dared +to have her drink at once, nearly half. Then he set down the jar, +loosened the sack from his shoulders which were cut raw with the +chafing of the thongs, and bathed her face with a little of that other +water which, though bad, still might keep life in them. + +"This may be an insane waste," he was thinking, "but it will help +revive her. And--maybe--we shall find another, better oasis." + +Out across the plain he peered, over the sun-dried earth, out into the +distances shrouded with purple mists. His blurred eyes narrowed. + +"Why, my God! There's one, now!" he muttered. "A green +one--cool--fresh--" + +The Master laid the woman down again in the shadow, got up and +staggered out into the blinding sun. He tottered forward, laughing +hoarsely. + +"Cool--_fresh_--" The words came from between parched lips. + +All at once the oasis faded to a blur in the brilliant tapestry of the +desert that beckoned: "Come to me--and die!" + +The Master recoiled, hands over eyes, mouthing unintelligible words. +Back beside the woman he crouched, fighting his own soul to keep it +from madness. Then he heard her voice, weak, strange: + +"Have you drunk, too?" + +"Of course!" + +"You are not--telling me the truth." + +"So help me God!" His fevered lips could hardly form the words. +"There, in the hut--I drank. All I needed." + +She grew silent. His conscience lapsed. They lay as if dead, till +almost evening, under the shelter of the blessed shadow. + +The rest, even in that desolation, put fresh life into them. At +nightfall they bound up their feet again, ate the dry dates and again +set their blistered faces toward the Red Sea. + +The woman's basket was now light, indeed, across her shoulders. Not +all her begging had induced the Master to let her carry the water-jug +there. This, too, he was carrying. + +All night long, stopping only when one or the other fell, they +ploughed over basalt and hornblende schist that lacerated their feet, +over blanched immensities under the steel moon, across grim, black +ridges and through a basin of clay, circled by hills. + +Strange apparitions mocked and mowed before them, but grimly they gave +no heed. This, they both realized in moments of lucidity, was the last +trek. Either they must find the sea, before another night, or madness +would sink its fangs into their brains. And madness meant--the end. + +Their whole consciousness was pain. This pain localized itself +especially in their heads, round which some _jinnee_ of the waste had +riveted red-hot iron bands. There was other pain, too, in the limping +feet cased in the last of the _babooches_, now stiffened with blood. +And in the throat and lungs, what was this burning? + + + + +CHAPTER LII + + +"Thalassa! Thalassa!" + +Another of those horrible, red mornings, with a brass circle of +horizon flaming all around in the most extraordinary fireworks topped +by an azure zenith, found them still crawling south-westwards making +perhaps a mile an hour. + +Disjointed words and sentences kept framing themselves in the man's +mind; above all, a sentence he had read long ago in Greek, somewhere. +Where had he read that? Oh, in Xenophon, of course. In _The Retreat of +the Ten Thousand._ The Master gulped it aloud, in a dead voice: + +"Most terrible of all is--the desert--for it is full-of a great want." + +After a while he knew that he was trying to laugh. + +"A great want!" he repeated. "A great--" + +Presently it was night again. + +The Master's mind cleared. Yes, there was the woman, lying in the sand +near him. But where was the date-stick basket? Where was the last of +the food? He tried to think. + +He could remember nothing. But reason told him they must have eaten +the last of the food and thrown the basket away. His shoulders felt +strangely light. What was this? The water-bag was gone, too? + +But that did not matter. There had been only a little of that +chemicalized water left, anyhow. Perhaps they had drunk it all, or +bathed their faces and necks with it. Who could tell? The water-sack +was gone; that was all he knew. + +A great fear stabbed him. The water-jar! Was that still on his back? +As he felt the pull of a thong, and dragged the jar around so that he +could blink at it, a wonderful relief for a moment deadened his pain. + +"_Allah iselmak!_" he croaked, blessing the scant water the jar still +held. He realized the woman was looking at him. + +"Water!" he whispered. "Let us drink again--and go on!" + +She nodded silently. He loosed the thong, took the jar and peered into +its neck, gauging the small amount of water still there. Then he held +it to her lips. + +She seemed to be drinking, but only seemed. Frowning, as she finished, +he once more squinted into the jar with bleared eyes. His voice was +even, dull, ominous as he accused: + +"You drank nothing. You are trying to save water for me!" + +She shook her head in negation, but he penetrated the lie. His teeth +gleamed through his stubble of beard, and his eyes glinted redly under +the hood of his ragged burnous as he cried: + +"Will you drink?" + +"I tell you--I have drunk!" + +Slowly he tilted the jar toward the thirsty sands. + +"Drink, now, or I pour all this on the ground!" + +Beaten, she extended a quivering hand. They shared the last of the +water. The man took less than a third. Then they set out again on the +endless road of pain. + +Was it that same day, or the next, that the man fell and could not +rise again? The woman did not know. Something had got into her brain +and was dancing there and would not stop; something blent of sun +and glare, sand, mirage, torturing thirst. There was a little gray +scorpion, too--but no, _that_ had been crushed to a pulp by the man's +heel. Or had it not? Well-- + +The man! Was there a man? Where was he? Here, of course, on the baked +earth. + +As she cradled his head up into her lap and drew the shelter of her +burnous over it, she became rational again. Her hot, dry hand caressed +his face. After a while he was blinking up at her. + +"Bara Miyan! Violator of the salt!" he croaked, and struck at +her feebly. And after another time, she perceived that they were +staggering on and on once more. + +The woman wondered what had happened to her head, now that the sun had +bored quite through. Surely that must make a difference, must it not? + +A jackal barked. But this, they knew, must be illusion. + +No jackals lived so far from any habitation of mankind. The man +blinked into the glare, across which sand-devils of whirlwinds were +once more gyrating over a whiteness ending in dunes that seemed to be +peppered with camel-grass. + +Another mirage! Grass could grow only near the coast. And now that +they had both been tortured to death by Jannati Shahr men and been +flung into Jehannum, how could there be any coast? It seemed so +preposterous. + +It was all so very simple that the man laughed--silently. + +Where had that woman gone to? Why, he thought there surely had been a +woman with him! But now he stood all alone. This was very strange. + +"I must remember to ask them if there wasn't a woman," thought he. +"This is an extraordinary place! People come and go in such a manner!" + +The man felt a dull irritation, and smeared the sand out of his eyes. +How had that sand got there? Naturally, from having laid on one of +those dunes. There seemed to be no particular reason for lying on +a dune, under the fire-box of an engine, so the man sat up and kept +blinking and rubbing his eyes. + +"This is the best mirage, yet," he reflected. "The palms look real. +And the water--it sparkles. Those white blotches--one would say they +were houses!" + +Indifferent, yet interested, too, in the appearance of reality, +the man remained sitting on the dune, squinting from under his torn +burnous. + +The mirage took form as a line of dazzling white houses along a sea of +cobalt and indigo. And to add to the reality of the mirage, some miles +away, he could see two boats with sails all green and blue from the +reflection of the luster of the water. + +The man's eyes fell. He studied his feet. They were naked, now, cut +to the bone, caked with blood and sand. Odd, that they did not hurt. +Where were his babooches? He seemed to remember something about having +taken some ragged ones from the feet of some woman or other, a very +long time ago, and having bound his own upon her mangled feet. + +"I'll ask the people in those houses, down there," thought he; and on +hands and knees started to crawl down the slope of the dunes toward +the dazzling white things that looked like houses. + +Something echoed at the back of his brain: + +"_You must ask her if this is real! Unless you both see it, you must +not go!_" + +He paused. "There was a woman, then!" he gasped. "But--where is she +now?" + +Realization that she had disappeared sobered him. He got up, groped +with emaciated hands before his face as he turned back away from the +white houses and stumbled eastward. + +All at once he saw something white lying on the sand, under a cooking +glare of sunlight. Memory returned. He fell on his knees beside the +woman and caught her up in quivering arms. + +After a while, he noticed there was blood on her left arm. Blood, in +the bend of the elbow, coagulated there. + +This puzzled him. All he could think was that she might have cut +herself on her _jambiyeh_, when she had fallen. He did not know then, +nor did he ever know, that he himself had fallen at this spot; that +she had thought him dying; that she had tried to cut her arm and give +him her blood to drink; that she had fainted in the effort. Some last +remnants of strength welled up in him. He stooped, got her across his +shoulder, struggled to his feet and went staggering up the dune. + +Here he paused, swaying drunkenly. + +Strange! The very same mirage presented itself to his eyes--blue +sails, turquoise sea, feathery palms, white houses. + +"By God!" he croaked. "Mirages--they don't last, this way! That's +real--that's real water, by the living God!" + +Up from dark profundities of tortured memory arose the cry of +Xenophon's bold Greeks when, after their long torment, they had of +a sudden fronted blue water. At sight of the little British consular +station of Batn el Hayil, on the Gulf of Farsan: + +"_Thalassa!_" he cried. "_Thalassa, thalassa!_" (The sea, the sea!) + + + + +CHAPTER LIII + + +THE GREATER TREASURE + +New York, months later. + +Spring had long departed--the spring of the year in which the Eagle of +the Air had flung itself aloft from the Palisades, freighted with such +vast hopes. + +Summer was past and gone. The sparkling wine of autumn had already +begun to bubble in the cup of the year. + +Sunset, as when this tale began. Sunset, bronzing the observatory of +_Niss'rosh_, on top of the huge skyscraper. + +Two of the Legionaries--a woman and a man--were watching that sunset +from the western windows of that room where first had been conceived +the wonder-flight which had spelled death for so many a stout heart. + +You could see great changes had come upon the man, as he paced slowly +up and down the singular room, hands deep in the pockets of his +riding-trousers. His hair was grayer, for one thing, his face leaner; +a certain sinewy strength had come to him that had not been there +before. + +Some marks of suffering still remained on him, that not all of life +could take away. His eyes looked deeper and more wise, his mouth more +human in its smile. That he had learned to smile, at all, meant much. +And the look in his eyes, as he glanced at the woman, meant vastly +more. Yes, this man had learned infinitely much. + +From a big, bamboo Chinese chair the woman was watching him. + +Her eyes were musing, reminiscent. Her riding-costume well became her; +and by the flush on her cheek you might have guessed they had both +just come in from a long gallop together. + +The costume gave her a kind of boyish charm; yet she remained entirely +feminine. A kind of bronze mist seemed to envelop her head, as the +dull-tawny sunset light fell on her from those broad windows. Near her +riding-crop stood a Hindu incense-holder, with joss-sticks burning. +As she took one of these and twirled it contemplatively, the blue-gray +vapor spiraling upward was no more dreamy than her eyes. + +"The invincible Orient!" she said, all at once. "It absorbs everything +and gives back nothing. And we thought, we hoped, we might conquer +part of it! Well--no--that's not done." + +The man stopped his slow pacing, sat on the edge of the table and +drummed with his fingers on the teak. + +"Not at the first attempt, anyhow," said he, after a little thought. +"I think, though, another time--but there's no use dreaming. Of +course, it's not the treasure I'm thinking about. That was just a +detail. It's the men. Good men!" + +She peered into the incense-smoke, as if exorcising the powers of +darkness. + +"They're not dead, not all of them!" she exclaimed with conviction. + +"I wish I could believe you!" + +"But you _must_ believe me! Something tells me some of our good chaps +are still alive. All of them perhaps." + +"Impossible!" He shook his head. "Even if they escaped the explosion, +the Jannati Shahr devils must have massacred them." He shuddered +slightly. "That's the worst of it. Death is all right. But the +crucifixion, and all--" + +"Cold reason paints a cruel picture, I admit," the woman answered, +laying a hand on the man's. "But you know--a woman's intuition. I +don't believe as you do. And the major--and that rumor we got from old +Nasr ed Din, the Hejaz rug-merchant down on Hester Street, how about +that?" + +"Yes, I know. But--" + +"How could a rumor like that come through, about a big, white-skinned, +red-haired _Ajam_ slave held by that tribe near Jeddah? How could it, +unless there were some truth back of it?" + +"He wandered away into the desert, quite insane. It's not impossible +he might have been captured. By Allah!" And the man struck the table +hard. "If I really believed Nasr ed Din--" + +"Well?" + +"I'd go again, if I died for it!" + +"The pronoun's wrong. _We'd_ go!" + +"Yes, _we_!" He took her hand. "We'd trail that rumor down and have +Bohannan out of there, and the others too, if--but no, no, the thing's +impossible!" + +"Nothing is impossible, I tell you, in the East. And haven't we had +miracles enough? After we were judged pirates and condemned to die, +by the International Aero Tribunal, wasn't it a miracle about +that pardon? That immunity, for your vibratory secrets that have +revolutionized the defensive tactics of the League's air-forces?" + +She smiled up at him, through the vapor. "It's the impossible that +happens, these days! The soul within me tells me some of our chaps are +still alive, out there!" + +She waved her smoky wand toward the large-scale map of Arabia on the +wall. + +"But Rrisa," said he. "About the others, there's no sense of guilt. I +feel, though, like a murderer about Rrisa." + +"Rrisa still lives!" + +He shook his head. + +"The incense tells me." She insisted. "My heart tells me!" + +"Allah make it so! But even if he is dead, he died like the others--a +man!" + +"In pursuit of an ideal. We all had that, a dream and an ideal." + +"Yes. It wasn't the treasure, of course," he mused. "It wasn't +material things. It was adventure. Well--you and I have had that, at +all events. And they had it too. They and we--all of us--we changed +the course of history for more than two hundred million human beings. +And as for you and me--" + +He turned, looking at the map. Then he got up from the table, went to +that map and laid a hand on the vast, blank expanse across which was +printed only "Ruba el Khali"--the Empty Abodes. + +"It would wreck the whole structure of civilization if we told," said +he. The woman put back the incense-stick into its holder, got up and +came to stand beside him. "Imagine the horrible, vulture-like scramble +of capitalism to exploit that dyke of gold! There'd be expeditions, +pools, combines, wars--we'd have the blood of uncounted thousands on +our heads! + +"It's not the treacherous El Barr people I'm thinking of. If they +perished, as they would to the last man defending their gold, all well +and good. But in case any of our men are still alive there, _they'd_ +be butchered. And then, the destruction of gold as a medium of +exchange, by its gross plenty, would wreck the world with panics. And +the greatest catastrophe of history would lie on our shoulders. That +is why--" + +"Why the secret must remain here," she said, touching her breast. + +"_But_!" he exclaimed, and turned and took a pencil from the table. + +In a bold hand he wrote, across the blank white spaces of the map, +these characters in Arabic: + +[Illustration] + +"_Nac'hna arivna_!" he exclaimed. "'_We know!_'" + +A long silence followed. Both, with deep memories, were peering at +those words, as the light slowly faded in the west over the Palisades. +The man was first to speak. + +"This secret is ours," said he. "I have another, that even you don't +know!" + +"You have kept something from--_me_?" + +"Only until I have quite dared tell you." + +"Dared?" + +"It isn't the mere, simple thing itself. It's the symbolism back of +it. Maybe even now I'm premature in telling you. But, somehow--" + +He hesitated. This man of action, hard, determined, strong, seemed +afraid. + +"Somehow," he added, "you and I-have come so near to each other-and +tonight, here in this room where it all started, we have seemed to +understand each other so well, through the revocation of the past, +that--yes, I'll show you--" + +He thrust a hand into his breast-pocket and brought out a small +leather sack. Startled, she looked at it as he drew open the cord. He +took from the sack a wondrous thing, luminous with nacreous hues. + +"The Great Pearl Star," she cried. "Kaukab el Durri!" + +"Yes, the Great Pearl Star, itself!" + +She looked in silence. Then she reached out a hand and touched it, as +if unbelieving. + +"Why, you never told me!" + +"I had a reason." + +"And--through all that inferno, when every ounce had to be +considered--" + +"I was keeping this for--you." + +There were tears in her eyes as he laid a hand on her shoulder. + +"For you," he repeated. "It was mine, but it is mine no longer. This +crown-jewel of Islam is yours, now--if you will have it." + +"If I will have it!" she whispered. "There's only one thing in this +whole world I more dearly long for!" + +"I am offering you that, too," said the man, in a trembling voice. "I +knew nothing of it, nothing whatever, until I came to understand what +a woman really could be. I fought against it--and lost. + +"It came to me not sought after and welcomed, but storming over the +ramparts of my soul. Yes, I fought love--and lost." + +"I understand that, too," she said. + +"I put the Great Pearl Star in my breast, sacred to you. I said to +myself: 'If we ever live through this, and I feel worthy to give this +gem to her, I'll ask her to complete it.'" + +"To complete it?" + +"Yes. You see, one pearl was missing. The most wonderful of all. Now, +as I clasp this necklace round your throat, the Great Pearl Star is +completed." + +"I--don't understand--" + +"Ah, but _I_ do! The missing pearl of great price-you are that pearl. +In giving the Great Pearl Star to you, I make it whole." + +"And I give it back to you, completed!" + +Her head lay on his heart. His lips were on her hair. + +"Completion," he whispered. "Peace, to the troubled heart. Peace, +after the night that life has been to me. Peace, till the dawn!" + +"'Peace,'" she said, in the line of the ancient Arabic poem. "'Peace, +until the coming of the stars.'" + +"'Peace,'" he breathed. "'It is peace until the rising of the day!'" + + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Flying Legion, by George Allan England + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLYING LEGION *** + +***** This file should be named 12265.txt or 12265.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/2/6/12265/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Bill Hershey and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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