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Updated: May 9, 2025
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."
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.
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!
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?"
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.
"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!" This old dog of dogs is a prize, indeed! And what now " Leclair did not answer. The Frenchman was not even near him.
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.
Leclair was murdered late one night close to the door of his own house, shortly after his return from Amsterdam, to which place he had gone solely for the purpose of hearing Locatelli. No motive for the crime was ever discovered, nor was the murderer found.
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.
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.
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