shadow
of a deep astonishment could not quite veil itself in the profound
caverns of the old man's eyes.

"Strike again, Bara Miyan," invited the Master. "The other arm,
perhaps, may not have lost its cunning!"

The Olema shook his head.

"No, by Allah!" he replied. "I know thy magic can numb the flesh, and
it is a good magic. It is strong. But by the rising of the stars--and
that is a great oath--the bullets of our long rifles can pierce thine
unbelieving body!"

"Then bring six of thy best riflemen and station them a dozen
paces from me," the Master challenged. "Let them look well to their
cartridges. It is not I who load the guns with bullets made of
soft black-lead, as the _Effendi_ Robert-Houdin did long ago to the
confusion of the Marabouts in Algeria. No, let thy men load their
own rifles. But," and his voice grew mocking, "let their aim be good.
Death is nothing, O Bara Miyan, but clumsy shooting means much pain."

His tone galled the aged Sheik, despite that impassive exterior. Bara
Miyan beckoned, and with a command brought six riflemen from their
horses.

"Load well, and shoot me this Frank!" exclaimed the Olema. A fire was
burning in his eyes.

"_Aywa_!" (Even so!) replied one of the riflemen. "Allah will make it
easy for us!"

"Have no fear, Bara Miyan," another said. "Not so easily shall El Kisa
(the People of the Garment) be overcome by the Feringi!"

Tension held Arabs and Legionaries, alike. All remained calm, though
had you watched "Captain Alden," you would have seen her fingers
twisting together till the blood almost started through the skin.

The Master walked a few paces, turned and faced the squad.

"Ready, men of Jannati Shahr?" asked he, with a smile.

"We are ready, Unbeliever!"

"Then fire!"

Up came the rifles. Brodeur turned a knurled disk, and from one of the
boxes on the grass a sudden, whining hum arose, like millions of angry
hornets.

"_Fire_!" repeated the Master.

Six rifle-hammers fell with dull clicks. Nothing more.

The Master smiled in mockery.

"O Bara Miyan," said he, "let thy men reload and fire again! Perhaps
the sweat of a great anxiety hath wet their powder!"

"Thou must indeed be _Khalil Allah_" (a friend of Allah), he admitted.
"No doubt thou art a great _caid_ in thy own country. It is strong
magic, Frank. But now behold what mine _imams_ can do!"

The riflemen, disgruntled but still, Arab-like, holding their
impassivity, returned to their ho