Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 1 — page 105: what you’re looking at

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

THE CARAVAN Facing the reader was a silent multitude. Each Sayak, man and woman and child, knelt upon a small prayer-rug. Edith had seen them carrying these rolled strips of carpet to the mosque, and wondered what they might be. For a moment she feared they might notice that she carried no rug. But the eyes of the worshipers were fixed on the hadji. The girl drew aside softly, walking forward along the side of the nave. Here she was behind the Sayak ranks, and sheltered somewhat by the row of pillars that supported the round balcony. The gloom was deeper in this spot. No one saw the standing girl. While she listened to the sonorous voice, quavering a trifle with age, she had the sensation of being present in one of the old cathedrals of Europe. Fre- quently, with her aunt and Arthur Rand, she had stood in this fashion, watching the reverence of another multitude, erected to the God of her faith. The impression passed as swiftly as it had come, when she gazed upon the bright robes of the Asiatics, the swarthy faces of the men, the veils of the women. Then she noticed for the first time the vapor. So lofty was the opening in the dome, and of ‘such small extent that the ray of sunlight moved steadily. When she entered it had rested on the pages of the book; then it passed over the priest. Now, while still resting upon him, it touched a rising cloud that Edith had supposed to be incense. : Where the altar of a cathedral would have been placed there was a raised lattice work of metal—bronze, brightly polished, or gold. It resembled the delicate marble kiosk of the garden of the stone house. Through the apertures of the fretwork a cloud of heavy vapor swirled up. It rose against the opening in- the dome, but—coming into contact with the air- current that swept downward through the hole—separated and coiled in a thin haze against the mosaic of the dome itself. So heavy was the vapor, it might have been steam. The mosque, in fact, was warmed by it. Edith had fancied for a brief moment that it was incense, rising from a gigantic censer-bowl. Then she recalled the hot springs of the lower lake. OF THE DEAD. 95 Evidently the mosque itself had been erected over one of the sources, and the vapor welled from the hot depths of the water. The sunlight had just reached the vapor when the priest ceased his reading and lifted both lean arms. A high chant rose from his lips, and he turned to face what Edith still fancied the white incense. As he did so she reflected that this might be the priest of whom Donovan had spoken. “ Nuri Muhammed s’all Allah!” And the multitude responded: ~“ La Woha ill Allah!” As one, the heads bent downward to- ward the breasts of the worshipers. Long folds of the white turbans were detached and laid over the left shoulder. As if per- forming a well-learned ritual, certain lines of Sayaks rose, with extended arms. The sight of the concentric rings of multi- colored garments, the intent faces and the lifted hands made Edith draw back, fearful of observation. Utter silence had fallen on the mosque. In the silence, the worshipers appeared to be awaiting something. She saw that they were gazing at the vapor. By now Edith realized that this was no ordinary Mohammedan mosque. Then her lips parted in swift surprise. In the intervals between the Sayak lines John Donovan was walking. He was hat- less, and appeared bent on a certain course of action, for he was looking closely at the figures of the kneeling women. No one molested Donovan. Apparently he was entitled to enter the mosque. He moved about as quietly as possible, seem- ingly desirous not ‘to attract attention, but exhibited no sign of apprehension except that he was intent on his task of scrutiniz- ing the veiled women. Edith felt that he had missed her, and had come to seek her. How Donovan had traced her to the temple ‘she did not know. Then the lines of standing men began to move from side to side. One voice, then another, took up a refrain: “ Hai-hai! Allah, hai!’ _ They placed their lifted hands on the shoulders of their comrades and swayed their bodies in cadence. | comiclboool< C@