The Flying Legion Part 43

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 b.u.t.ton 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 impa.s.sively 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.