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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!" A certain trouble had now grown manifest in Rrisa's eyes. His lips moved silently, as if still praying; but no words were audible.
When Rrisa had withdrawn, the Master pulled over one of the huge atlases, opened it, turned to the map of Arabia, and fell into deep study.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!
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.
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!"
"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!" "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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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