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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.
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!
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.
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?"
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.
In the stairs, and about the door, some ten of Sir Hugh's men were waiting, all countrymen of my own, and the noise they made and their speech were pleasant to me. They gave me welcome with shouts and laughter, and clasped my hands: "for him that called us wine-sacks, you have given him water to his wine, and the frog for his butler," they said, making a jest of life and death.
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.