The Flying Legion

dered it built from his own plans, to please a whim of his restless mind, on top of the gigantic skyscraper that formed part of his proper

ade crag. The Arabic name that he had given it-Niss'rosh-meant j

y fading, verging toward a night of May, disclosed unusual furnishings. It showed a heavy black table of some rare Oriental wood elaborately carved and inlaid with still rarer

h hand cupped at listening ear. Surely that head must have come from some buried art-find of the very long ago. The f

, and travels. But here a profusion of war-books and official documents showed another bent of the owner's mind. Over the book-case hung tw

fragments of Prussian battle-flags formed a kind of frieze, their color softened by the fading sunset, e

of steamer-whistles from the river-bore Turkish spoils of battle. Here hung more rifles, there a Kurdish yataghan with two hand-grenades fr

pennant, a cuirass, entrenching tools, a steel helmet with an eloquent bullet-hole through the crown. Some few framed portraits of noted "aces" hung here an

of the world. This projection was heavily annotated with scores of comments penciled by a firm, virile hand. Lesser spaces were occupied by maps of the campaigns in Mesopotamia and the Holy Land. One map,

big, Chinese bamboo chair, with an attitude of utter and disheartening boredom. His crossed legs were stretched out, one heel digging into th

the head; in the corded throat and heavy jaws; in the well-muscled shoulders, sinewed hands, powerful legs. This man was forty-one years old, and looked thirty-five. Lines of chest and wais

t weariness in the tired frown of the black brows, the narrowing of the dark eyes, the downward tug of the lips. Wrinkles of stagnation had b

blurred in the sky, cast softened lights upon those wrinkles, but could not hide them. Th

chanism from the table, where it had lain with other fragments of apparatus. For

d. "'Swapped my reput

y commiss

im, and walked a few times up and dow

ave gone on without m

hat's any business

ed up his arms, groaned

at to do with what I've got already! A few more f

, to him, the interests and pleasures of other men? Profit and loss, alcohol, tobacco, women-all alike bore him no message. Clubs, athletics, gambling-he grumbled som

Almost at once a door opened at the southeast corner of the room-where the observatory connected with the stair

he wore clothing quite as conventional as his master's. Still, no more than the Master did he appear one of life'

linging the man's name at him with t

aster?) repl

and drink," commanded

elusive with strang

seemed mocking him. The Master's eyes grew hard; he raised his fist against the map, and smote it hard. Then once more h

th a hook-nosed coffee-pot of chased metal. The cover of this coffee-pot rose into a tall, minaret-like spike. On the tray stood also

ja" (the khat has

ster's side, and was about to withdraw wh

l speaking in Arabic, "where wert th

sk. Then he advanced a thin forefinger, and laid it on a spot that might have indicated

that place, Rrisa?"

ng the western afterglow, the profound impassivity of his expression-a look tha

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

sa answered the qu

, I can

re thou wast born?" demanded the Master

, by the beard o

what

ged his thi

? A village, a

city, indeed. But its n

maps do not lie," the Master commented, and turned a little to pour t

and smiled oddly. For a moment he regarde

hey lie, son of Isla

not drunk of the waters of the oasis, how can he know that they be sweet? Thes

can pass beyond the desert rim, an

, every sense alert, on guard against any admissions that might betray t

Turks-I know they enter, though hated. But hav

gh they come from China, India, or the farther

now of men of the Nasara faith

own that life. It is yours. Ana bermil illi bedakea! (I obey your every command!) But d

ess, impassive in the dusk. Then he frowned a very little, which was as near to anger as he ever verged.

ce the Ma

risa," said he, decisively. "Say, thou, hath no man of the Nas

reach an oasis not far to westward of

touch of eagerness in his grave,

blood, Master, and

appened to

died,

n, thy people

ackals devoured them and the bones remained. Those bones, I t

ry the folk slay all Nasara they lay hands on, by cutting with a sha

will, M'almé-you being of the Nasara blood

always in the stomach? Why do they

e stomach, to dull the ed

have been entirely futile. Beyond a certain point, which he could gauge accurately, neither gold nor fire would drive Rrisa. The Arab would at any hour of night or day have laid down his life for t

Arab spoke, in s

God of mine. We have our own; and the land is ours, too. None of the Nasara may come thither, an

hee, and go to thy land, but were not to ask thy help there-if I were not to ask thee to guide me

awful in the eyes of Allah and the Prophet, and seek to force me to them, this hand of mine would

the Master, with a wave of the hand. Rrisa salaa