Adventure Magazine Cover — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

The Witch caravan on the way—was needed, for the face of the Cossack chief was lean, the dark eyes slanting—a heritage from some Tatar ancestor. His attire was that of a Turko- man chief and his manner, composed and slightly contemptuous, bore out the part. Michael turned his attention to the rider on the camel. Lali had been furnished new garments, but the poise of her head was un- mistakable although she was heavily veiled. Before her walked the two blacks, once more at ease despite their scars. Well for Demid, thought Michael, they were mutes. They had a tale for the telling! Yet now they stalked proudly, aware of their importance—two. eunuchs of the imperial court, unmistakable as such. Alone, in that great throng, the cavalier did not call out. He could have made Demid hear, for the cortege passed within stone’s throw. But to signal to the Cos- sack before those hundreds of vigilant eyes would be to place the chieftain im jeopardy at once. Michael remained silent, smiling a little as he understood the trick by which Demid had entered Aleppo. He had merely taken the place of the aga, who had been slain on the galley—the officer who had had Lali in his charge. But Ayub and the other Cossacks were not visible, and Michael wondered what part they were to play. “The Sidi will have a warm welcome for this bringer of gifts,” spoke up some one near him. “It is said that El Kadhr had a wolf’s fight witha band of unbe- lievers in the hills and overthrew them, after all but these few of his men were slain.” A savage shout gave token of the joy of the Moslems at this feat of the aga, and Michael, listening, grew thoughtful. In this way Demid had explained his lack of escort; the janizaries he must have picked up near the city. But, successful in pass- ing the gates of Aleppo, where no other Christians were suffered to enter except as slaves, he was now in the center of a fanatical mob that would tear his limbs apart at a slip of the tongue or a false move. All at once Michael was aware that Demid had seen him. ‘The gaze of the aga had passed over the slaves and lingered a second on the cavalier. Tossing some silver toward the clamoring Arab younglings he rode-on without a sign of recognition. Another moment and he checked his horse, where the multitude at the road of Aleppo 47 leading up to the castle held up the caval- cade. Stooping he spoke swiftly to one of the officers of the guards, handing the man at the same time a purse from his girdle. The janizary made a sign of obedience, looked around at Michael and made his way back to the suk. Swaggering as one who had just been noticed by the mes- senger of the sultan ; he approached the Arab. ‘How high is the bidding for this Frank?” he asked curtly. The desert man fingered his beard thoughtfully, and seeing no loss in talk, drew the soldier a little aside from the Turkomans who were still staring after the envoy. “Three hundred gold pieces, to you, my friend, and the tax on you. You have seen how docile he is - “T have here two hundred and twenty dinars. It is yours for the slave. The lord from the imperial city has given me command to buy this dog. The Frank crossed his glance with the aga, and perhaps made a spell upon him. So the lord from the imperial city has selected me to buy him, in order that he may be slain and the spell rendered of no account. The aga, El Kadhr, is a hater of the N azarenes, as a man should be.” At this Michael’s pulse quickened, for covetousness darkened the Arab’s eyes, and he schemed palpably to avail himself of the new offer. The guards observed that Michael was standing by them, but took no notice of the merchant. “Surely you have more than that i in the purse,” objected the desert man. “T. saw the aga hand it to you. Is it not all for this Frank? The envoy is open of hand.” | “By my beard, it is not so. And the tax is ON you es “Ballaht What do you say?” Inwardly cursing their quarreling, Mi- chael listened to their rising voices in a feverish suspense. “Allah! What words are these words. The door of bidding is closed!” The leader of the Turkomans swung around and grasped Michael’s shoulder. “Dog of an Arab! Saw you not the wazir’s ring?” The desert man flung up his arms with a groan. c¢ Aye,” janizary. he muttered to the peed ‘“‘A dweller in the Wolf’s Ear saw cCOmiclbook (©