Adventure Magazine Cover — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

58 supposed leper. “Lift the veil and you will see how his tongue is rotted away, and the bone sticks through his nose.”’ The horrors of the lepers’ well were still vivid in Hassan’s mind, and his voice shook. When Michael took it upon himself to make some uncouth noises the janizary drew back quickly. “Darist bashine—the grain may have been reaped by thee! Go, the two of youl Open the gate to them!” ‘“‘Where shall we go?”’ whined Hassan. “Mashallah! Where but to the burial hill yonder—behold the grove of pistachio trees against the sky-line.”’ | So the two slender figures passed under the flickering lamp of Elisha, out into the void of darkness, and the hub-bub at the gate resumed its even key. It was a weary climb for the tired Michael, up the path to the shrines and stones of the cemetery, and for some time they stumbled around, feeling their way toward the blotch of the grove. Here Hassan gave a real yell of alarm and the skin prickled on Michael’s back. From the deeper gloom ahead of them issued the call of animals and they heard the whining of panthers, the grunting of camels and the whirr of wings. Hassan, knowing that no beasts larger than jackals were in the thickets, started to flee and the rope pulled his companion headlong. Perforce, they both halted, and the boy whimpered when a muffled screech sounded from a tree almost overhead; but Michael remembered the Cossacks’ trick of mimick- ing animal calls and cried Ayub’s name softly. Presently the giant Cossack ataman loomed over them and Hassan quivered, believing firmly that now he was about to be carried off by the djimn—for he never thought a man could be as huge as Ayub. ‘‘Are the men safe?”’ whispered Michael. Ayub ran a hard hand over the cavalier’s face, and grunted with pleasure. - fly away with me if it isn’t the little Frank behind a woman’s veil. Have you wine—meat? Is it a feast day in the city? ‘Then lead us to the frolic.”’ Other Cossacks crowded up, to salute Michael and stroke his shoulders in high glee at seeing him safe again. ‘“‘As I live,”’ rumbled Ayub, shaking his head sadly, “‘we have played at ghosts until our own skins crept each cock-crow—not a single pretty woman came to pray at the Adventure graves in all the three days. Not a lass.” “How could you tell, father?”’ asked one of the younger warriors. ‘They were all wrapped up.” “How could I tell? Eh, I can judge what lies behind a Turkish veil, as well as you can tell your nag from another. When I was on a raid in Trebizond, the maidens used to nudge me in the streets so hard that my ribs would have given out if I had not worn a mail shirt. And how is my grand- daughter?” “Your grand-daughter? What kin have you below the sea?’’ Michael did not under- stand the big Cossack. “Eh, what kin? Why, aforetime, when I raided the Black Sea with Rurik—God break his chains for him—TI left sons and daughters in every Turkish port where the women were above ordinary, and by now they have children of their own.” | The warriors, clustering restlessly around their leaders, smiled, knowing that Ayub was more afraid of a woman than of a chambul of Tatars. Michael reflected that the veteran must have kept up the spirits of the detachments rarely in the trying time of waiting for orders. “That is why,” added the giant gravely, “the Turkish knights have grown so notable of late.” ‘“‘Aye, grandfather,’ Michael grinned, “‘you were a great man in your time.” “In my time? May the dogs scratch you, Mikhail! You are no bigger than a flea and I could break you on my thumb- nail.””’ He breathed heavily a moment, and went on. “But I spoke of my grand- daughter Lali. When she bade us farewell to go off to Sidi Ahmad, she wept like a ewe lamb under the shearer, and I kissed her like a grandfather, not otherwise. She is a good witch, and I will salt down the Turk that harms her.’’ ‘“‘She is to open the postern door to Demid, and we are to contrive to pass through the nearest gate of Aleppo, to ride around to join him at the fourth hour of darkness.”’ Michael explained Demid’s plan, realizing for the first time the odds against them. It pleased the Cossacks rarely, and they re- marked that they would brew a fine beer for Sidi Ahmad to quaff. ‘“‘Sidi Ahmad is really Balaban, so strike when you see him.”’ “Eh, that hedgehog? I warned Demid COmiclboolks C©