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Updated: May 21, 2025
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!"
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!"
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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