Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 2 — page 129: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE CARAVAN mosque may suffer, likewise the lawless resi- dents of Yahka Arik. But I will not be here nor will Miss Rand. “And my father?” Edith voiced her anxiety. “Tf he is curious he Will be told by some of these natives ””"—Monsey nodded at the door—‘ that a certain renegade Britisher named Donovan Khan has disappeared with her. Of course Captain Donovan will not be here to cause further trouble. The ravine, to the river, is very deep.” “Five hutidred feet, I think,” nodded Donovan. “Exactly. I see you are not altogether a fool. Presently, you will be able to judge for yourself.” ‘“T regret that I could not climb the cliff.” “Oh, yes. I believe you. I took pains to investigate that. No, I think you are better apart—so!”’ Edith had crept to Donovan’s side and taken his hand in hers. She was very near the verge of tears. Mon- sey thrust her aside while Abbas grinned. ‘That is well. Now Donovan Khan, I will ask you to let your hands be bound*behind your back and submit to an armed guard, in a corner of this outer room.” “Let me stay with him,” Edith pleaded. She felt very weak, very helpless. She won- dered why- Donovan was so quiet. “ The air in the tower will benefit you. In case you should want to converse, my lady, I will provide you with another of my men. He will have orders.” / CHAPTER XXXII. AN HOUR AFTER DARK. T was some time before Edith remem- bered the crumpled paper concealed in her dress. Then she surveyed her surround- ings cautiously. She was in the chamber on the first tier of the tower. An Alaman sat apathetically on the wooden steps over the aperture that led below. The footfalls of the sentry guarding Donovan below reached her ears. The Englishman himself was not visible. Nor was Edith permitted to look down from the opening in the floor. Anxiously she felt OF THE DEAD 261 for the bit of paper, drawing near to one of the embrasures. The guard, leaning against his rife kept only an indifferent watch upon her as she slipped the paper into a fold of her scarf where she could see it, and smoothed out the wrinkles tenderly. It took some time before this careful maneuver revealed the whole of the missive to the girl. She saw a small square of worn paper closely writ- ten in pencil. Eagerly, with hearing at- tuned for the approach of baad or Ab- bas, she read: DEAREST GIRL: It took hours to persuade Iskandef from launching an immediate assault on the castle. I won my point—a chance to get to you. The Sayaks will attack the night after I reach you. I had no other way of helping you, but this. An hour after sunset, try to be at the eastern wall, nearest the cliff. Aravang will make the attempt at the cliff. He is a regular mountain sheep, and none of the other Sayaks would dare it. I don’t think A. would, for me. But he will for you. He will bring my revolver. Take it, if he can’t make the climb into the Rurgan wall, which is unlikely. Try to reach me with the weapon if you can. If not, use it aS you may, and God wills. Watch out for the sentries on the rampart. Monsey stations two there, I think, as he does not fear an attack from that side. Nothing will keep the Sayaks from a frontal attack, although I have talked my «head off trying to make them see the sides to the north and south are more accessible. If you can’t get to me before the attack, don’t try. I can look out for myself. Iskander will look for you, perhaps. God watch over you, you blessed woman: DONOVAN. li Avavanes is not on time, he’ll have fallen. Darkness came less swiftly to the kurgan than to the valley of Yahka Arik. Looking from the tower embrasure, Edith could See the splendid curtains of sunset drawing about a glowing orb that fired the snow peaks with its life. The aspect of the mountains, as shadbwe formed in the ravines and crept up the rock surfaces, reminded the girl of a vase paint- ing—so utterly desolate and so tranquil were these gigantic pinnacles. , It dwarfed her. Since her coming to the valley of the Sayaks Edith had never felt so insignificant. Life itself was a small matter here, she thought—and what was life if Donovan was lost to her? DOOLK C@