can get, and leave this city at once.

"The gold is of no importance, whatever. On the way back over the
outer foothills of the Iron Mountains, many outcrops of gold exist.
_Nissr_ can poise above some of these; and a few hours' labor will
load her with all the gold we can carry. There can be no sense in
trying to get any here. It would simply add to our peril.

"Everything is therefore quite satisfactory. But watch every move. If
nothing breaks, in two hours from now we should be on our way. Again
I caution you all, keep silent and make no move without my orders. The
prize is at our very finger-tips. So long as we shed no blood and as
nothing happens to the Myzab and the Black Stone, we are safe. But
remember--_be careful!_"

The Olema touched him on the elbow.

"Now," the old man asked, "now, O Frank, wouldst thou see the cut
jewels of the Caliph el Walid?"

"Even so!"

"Come, then!" And Bara Miyan gestured toward another door that led, at
the left, out of the Chamber of the Pyramid.

Again the strange procession formed itself, as before, with the
gorilla-like Maghrabi stranglers a rear guard. A few minutes through
still another passage in the gold brought them to a door of ebony,
banded with silver. No door of gold, it seemed, sufficed for this
chamber they were about to enter. Stronger materials were needed here.

This door, like the others, swung silently on its massive hinges.

"Come, O Master of the fighting-men of Feringistan!" exclaimed the
Olema. "In Allah's name, take of the gifts that I have already offered
thee, and then in peace depart!"

Before the Master could reply, a shuddering concussion shivered
through the solid gold all about them. The tremor of this shock, like
that of an earthquake, trembled the cressets on the walls and made the
huge ebony door, ajar into a dim-lighted hall, groan on its hinges.

Stupefied, Legionaries and Arabs alike, stared silently under the
vague gleam of the torches.

Then, far and faint, as though coming along tortuous passages from
distances above, a muffled concussion smote their ears. The shock of
the air-wave was distinctly felt, eloquent of the catastrophe that in
a second of time had shattered every plan and hope.

As if an echo of that thunderous, far explosion, a faint wailing of
voices--echoing from very far above--drifted eerily along the passage;
voices in blended rage and fear, in hate, agony, despair.

"God above--!" the major gulped. "Captain