e, perhaps, this
topaz might have come. This sapphire might have graced the anklet of
some beauty of old Nile, ages before King Solomon wielded the scepter,
ages even before the great god Osiris reigned.

That amethyst might have been loot of the swift black galleys of Tyre,
in joyous days when men's strong arms took what they could, of women
or of gems, and when Power was Law!

Imagination ran riot there, gazing down upon those jewel-pits. In them
lay every kind of precious stone for which, from remotest antiquity,
men had cheated, schemed, lied, fought, murdered. The jewels showed
no attempt at sorting or classification. With true Oriental
_laissez-faire_, they were all mingled quite at random; these gems,
any chance handfuls of which must have meant an incalculable fortune.

CHAPTER XLVI

BOHANNAN BECOMES A MILLIONAIRE

Like men in a dream, after the first wild emotions had died, the
Legionaries peered down into this sea of light. Smoke from the lamps
rose toward the dim, low-arched roof. Blood from the Maghrabi's wounds
slowly spread and clotted on the golden floor.

Without, a confused murmur told of resuming preparations to smash in
the door. And through it all, the dry clicking of the gems made itself
audible, as the major sifted them with shaking fingers.

"Well, men," the Master laughed dryly, "here they are! Here are the
jewels of Jannati Shahr. Old Bara Miyan would probably have given us a
peck or two of them, for Myzab and the Great Pearl Star and the Black
Stone, if those hadn't been destroyed--"

"How do you know they've been destroyed?" the major cried. "How do you
know but what we'll be rescued, here?"

"If the bombardment had been going to begin, I think we'd have heard
something of it, by now. My judgment tells me there'll be no explosive
dropped on Jannati Shahr.

"We've got to fight this thing through, unaided. And at any rate, we
don't have to limit ourselves to a peck or two of jewels. We've got
them all, now--or they've got us!"

The irony of his tone made no impression on Bohannan. His mercurial
temperament seemed to have gone quite to pieces, in view of the hoard.
He cried:

"Come on, then, boys! Fill up!"

And with a wild laugh he began scooping the gems, hap-hazard, into the
pockets of his torn, battle-stained uniform. Jewels of fabulous price
escaped his fingers, like so many pebbles in a sand-pit, and fell
clicking to the golden floor. With shaking hands the major dr