coin?"

"It is true, Master. Save that he sent more; nearly two hundred
thousand _miskals_. He also sent eighty Coptic and Greek artists to
carve and gild the mosques.

"One Greek sculptured a hog on the Mosque of Omar, trying to make it
into a _kanisah_ (unclean idol-house). My people discovered the sacrilege,
and"--he added with intent--"gave that Greek the bowstring, then quartered
the body and threw it to the vultures."

"That is of no importance whatever, Rrisa," answered the Master with
an odd smile. "What thy people do to the unbeliever, if they capture
him, is nothing to me. For--dost thou see?--they must first make the
capture. What I would most like to know is this: where is all that
treasure, now?"

"I cannot tell you, Master."

"At Mecca?"

"No, Master, not at Mecca."

"Then where?"

"_M'alme!_ My lips are sealed as the Forbidden Books!"

"Not against the commands of thy sheik--and I am thy sheik!"

Rrisa's lips twitched. The inner struggle of his soul reflected itself
in his lean, brown face. At last he aroused himself to make answer:

"The treasure, Master, is far to the south-east--in another city."

"Ah! So there _is_ another city far out in Ruba el Khali, the Empty
Abodes!"

"Yea, _M'alme_, that is so."

"Then the ancient rumor is true? And it is from near that city that
thou didst come, eh? By Allah's power, I command thee to tell me of
this hidden city of the central deserts!"

"This thing I cannot do, my sheik."

"This thing thou must do!"

"O Master! It is the secret of all secrets! Spare me this!"

"No Rrisa, thou must obey. Far inside El Hejaz (the barrier), that
city is lying for my eyes to behold. I must know of it. Thy oath to me
cannot be broken. Speak, thou!"

The Master made no gesture with his hands, did not frown or clench his
fists, but remained impassively calm. His words, however, cut Rrisa
like knives. The orderly remained trembling and sweating, with a
piteous expression. Finally he managed to stammer:

"_M'alme_, in our tongue we have a proverb: 'There are two things
colder than ice--a young old man and an old young man.' There is still
a colder thing--the soul that betrays the Hidden City!"

"Speak Rrisa! There is no escape for thee!"

"My sheik, I obey," quavered the unfortunate orderly, shaken with a
palsy of fear. Without a quiver, the Arab would rush a machine-gun
position or face a bayonet-charge; but this betrayal of his kin struck
at the vitals o