Adventure Magazine Cover — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

The Witch of Aleppo Michael saw her lips quiver as the priest touched her forehead and shoulder. With a sudden motion she pressed to her cheek the edge of his robe and then drew back to her place. The heads of the Ar- menians nodded over their tapers under- standingly. When the singing began again, it was re- inforced by the deep voices of the Cossacks, who crowded in eagerly from the portico. Michael now caught the words, which were indeed old and tamiliar— “Kyrie elteson.”’ It seemed to him that Lali was taking the sacrament, and that in some way she was bidding farewell to the people of Sivas. He was puzzled by this, for Lali’s ‘aature appeared many sided, and he managed to ask Ayub about it as they made their way back through the snow. A cold wind swept the heights about them, and overhead the stars gleamed like jewels in imperial purple. “Why,” the big Cossack explained, “‘the girl was incensed and took a blessing from the patriarch, because she is going to her fate. That is, to Aleppo. Aleppo, they say, 1s and there the friend has his court. It was well we met with such a fine batko—he is the patriarch of Armenia come up from Antioch, in the Holy Land.” The Cossacks were indeed in vast good humor and the visit to the church seemed to remove all suspicion of them from the minds of the folk. Michael, too, felt at ease and ready for the next turn of affairs. The splendid edifice struck him as some- thing of a marvel, and he did not know that he had been within a chapel built by a Ro- man emperor, Theodosius, in bygone days. But he felt a stirring of the pulse, an inti- macy with ancient and mighty things. He stood on the threshold of an older world and perhaps within his memory was awak- ened the pageant of ancestors of his line who had stood upon this ground when the hosts of the crusaders moved about the Holy Land. Even Ayub was somewhat reflective. “Well, I did not know that the maiden had changed so much, from a few words of mine. Still, I argued with her amain, and she listened.” At the entrance to the hut, one of the younger warriors took Michael’s hand with a smile— “Ich, will you frolic with us this night, Frank?” 39 “Why this night?” The Cossack stared, and laughed artlessly as a child: “Eh, the day after, the ataman, Demid, leads us forth toa long road. It is our cus- tom to frolic before the road.” So Michael went about with them, and heard the note of fiddles and harps, drank of the red wine, and gazed at the whirling throngs of the young girls who danced be- fore the warriors, encouraged by the shouts of the Cossacks—he shared the bread dipped In wine, and studied the lined faces from which care had fallen away for a few hours. But most of all he watched the girl Lali, hearing for the first time her voice freed from all restraint, hearkening to the song that had come from her lips on the galley, beholding the grace of her light figure in the dance. And as he watched he frowned a little, repeating under his breath Ayub’s words— “She goes with us to Aleppo.” sx.) WHEN Demid entered the dwelling iS 4 of Ibnol H i he bore with =" him two heavy sacks that clanke:l as he set them down near the tiled stove. A dozen pairs of eyes flew instantly to the sacks and lingered desirefully. They were hard, bleared eyes, those of the headmen of the tribe of Sivas—aye, sharp and pene- trating withal. They pierced inside the heavy leather sacks and a dozen minds, shrewd as foxes, probed at the value of the things that clanked. Beards wagged upon the breasts of ancient kaftans, shiny with grease, and the eyes, by a common impulse, travelled to the face of the young Cossack. It was an open, weather-beaten face, that of Demid. The corded muscles of the bare throat and the slow-moving hands were evidence of lean strength not at first notice- able in that slender figure. The headmen were satisfied. With half a glance they could pick out a man whose thoughts did not dwell on money values. It was well, they thought, that the stranger was such, because they meant to have some gain out of the windfall. Ibnol Ham- mame], their cral, had saved the thick necks of the Cossacks, and something was owing to the tribe for that—if not gifts, then some horses stolen, a few weapons pilfered by boys—a purse slit here and there by the young women | cCOmiclbook CO