Adventure Magazine Cover — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

The Witch of Aleppo with—a free rein, and have I not—kept faith?” ‘“‘Aye,”’ said Demid, pausing and bending his head to catch the almost soundless words. ‘“‘Then set me down. I—am not a witch and I do not fear - Her hands reached up to touch his face, but closed convulsively on his cloak as a spasm of pain seized her. Demid moved into the passage, ahead of Ayub. “Nay, little falcon,” he said, almost tenderly, ‘“‘the end of the road is not yet, and surely you will go with me.” es) put the ponies to a gallop before the | pasha’s guards could close in on them. Through the deserted alleys of the Jews’ quarter they passed like the first gust ofa storm. From balconies and housetops turbaned heads peered at them, but saw no more than gigantic black forms bending over steeds that spurned up a cloud of dust and were gone. “They ride like the djimn folk!” voices cried from housetop to balcony. The colored lamps of a pleasure garden touched bearded faces and naked steel, shining through the dust. Here a patrol of mounted mamelukes drew up, in startled haste, in their path. The pistols of the Cossacks flashed and bellowed, and several of the Moslems dropped while their horses reared and plunged, throwing the rest into disorder. Headed by Ayub who wielded his two- handed sword like the father of all the djinn, the Cossacks bunched, and, standing in their stirrups to strike the better, broke through the mamelukes and strung out toward the Bab el Nasr, while behind them the Moslems rallied, and the pursuit gath- ered headway. The shrill roll of kettle- drums sounded near at hand and behimd them from the dark tower of the dead Sidi Ahmad blared the trumpets giving the sig- nal to guard the city gates. : A shot barked somewhere near the wall and Ayub began to ply his whip. “That is the essaul. ‘The dogs are biting him and his men. U-ha! Brothers, war- riors, is your Cossack strength spent—are your horses hobbled? Faster, then!” Emerging into the cleared space by the gate Michael saw Broad Breeches standing pistol in hand by the iron portal, while THEY were in their saddles, and one of his men lay stretched on the earth. The other was engaging a trio of Moslems, who drew back as Demid and his men gal- loped up. The essaul plucked the key from his belt and twisted it in the lock. Then he tugged open the.barred gate, thrusting it back, tt allow the riders to pass through withouo slackening pace. “After us!”’ shoulder. The warrior who had been fending off the swords of the Moslems whirled his horse and spurred through the gate. The old sergeant whistled up his pony, but, be- holding the mass of pursuers drawing near from the mouths of the alleys, he changed his purpose. “Once my mother bore me,” he muttered, and lifted his hoarse voice in a shout as he perceived that Demid and Michael had reined in to wait for him to come up. “Speed on, ataman. Tell the bandura players my name——”’ With that he closed the gate hastily, turned the key in the lock, and tossed it far into the darkness on the outer side of the gate. Spitting on his hands, he drew his sword and placed his back against the in- side of the iron barrier. He was the oldest of the Cossacks, the essaul, and many Winters had whitened his hair; his eyes were growing dim and his aged heart glowed with satisfaction because the min- strels would now hear of his name and per- haps put it into their songs. Besides, Michael had given him an order to keep thé gate closed. So he drew his sword and his gray mus- tache bristled fiercely as the Moslems spurred their horses in on him. The locked gate and the lost key delayed their pursuit for a precious half-hour while they rode to another opening in the wall and circled back to take up the trail of the Cossacks. ) He stumbled down from his saddle when Demid called a halt at mid- night, and another warrior changed the saddle for him to a fresh horse. Vaguely he was aware that Demid still carried the body of the young girl and that the flood of her black hair fell down over the ataman’s Demid called over his MICHAEL had spent his strength. knee like a silken cloak. She had died be- © fore the ride began. COmiclbook 65. (©