THE ORDEAL OF RRISA
Alone in his cabin with the waterspout of massive gold and with the
sacred Black Stone, the Master sat down in front of the table where
they had been laid, took a few leaves of khat, and with profound
attention began to study the treasures his _bold coup_ had so
successfully delivered into his hands.
The waterspout, he saw at once, would as a mere object of precious
metal be worth a tremendous sum. It was of raw gold, apparently
unalloyed--as befitted its office of carrying the water from the roof
of the Ka'aba and throwing it upon Ishmael's grave, where pilgrims
have for centuries stood fighting to catch it. Its color verged
on reddish; all its lateral surfaces were carved with elaborate
arabesques and texts from the Koran. The bottom bore an inscription in
Tumar characters, easily decipherable by the Master, stating that it
had been sent from Constantinople in the year of the Hegira 981, by
Shâfey Hanbaly, the Magnificent.
"A great treasure," pondered the Master. "An almost incalculable
treasure, in itself; but less so, intrinsically, than as an object of
Moslem veneration. In either case, however, enormously valuable."
He examined it a moment or two longer, noting with care the gashes and
deep cuts made by the frantic strokes of Dr. Lombardo's pick-axe. What
his thoughts might have been regarding the doctor's tragic death, none
could have told. For with a face quite unmoved, he turned now to the
examination of the world-famous Black Stone.
This object, he saw, possessed no value whatever, _per se_. Aside from
its golden encircling band studded with silver nails, its worth seemed
practically nothing. As it lay on the table before him, he realized
that it was nothing but a common aerolite, with the appearance of
black slag. Its glossy, pitchlike surface, on the end that had been
exposed from the wall, was all worn and polished smooth by innumerable
caresses from Moslem hands and lips.
"Very hygienic," the Master thought. "If there was ever a finer way
devised for spreading the plague and other Oriental diseases, I can't
very well imagine what it could be!"
A bit of the stone had been broken off by Leclair's crowbar. The
Master's trained, scientific eye saw, by the brightly sparkling,
grayish section of the break, that iron and nickel formed the chief
elements of the stone. Its dimensions, though its irregular form made
these hard to come by, seemed about two and a half feet in length, by
about seven or eight inches in breadth and thickness. Its weight, as
the Master stood up and lifted it, must have been about two hundred
pounds. No doubt one man could have carried it from its place in the
Ka'aba to the nacelle; but in the excitement of battle, and impeded by
having to stumble over prostrate Moslems, the major had considered it
advisable to ask for help.
"Mineralogically speaking, this is a meteor or a block of volcanic
basalt," judged the Master. "It seems sprinkled with small crystals,
with rhombs of tile-red feldspath on a dark background like velvet or
charcoal, except for one reddish protuberance of an unknown substance.
A good blow with a hammer would surely break it along the original
lines of fracture--and this is well worth knowing and remembering".
"Well, so far so good," he concluded. "The Air Control Board hasn't
got us, yet. Neither have the Mohammedans. True, we've lost a number
of men, but that was to have been expected. That's inevitable, and we
still have enough. I hardly see that we have so very much to complain
of, so far."
He turned, pulled a blanket from his berth and carefully spread it
over the loot on the table. Then he pushed the button communicating
with the cabin wherein Rrisa was still quivering as a result of having
heard the fusillades and the terrific tumult--unseen though they had
been to him--at Mecca.
In a couple of minutes the faithful orderly appeared, salaamed, and
stood waiting with a drawn, troubled face.
"_Allah m'a!_" the Master greeted him, in Allah's name inquiring for
his good health. "I have something important to ask thee. Come in.
Come in, and close the door."
He spoke in Arabic. The orderly, in the same tongue, made answer as he
obeyed:
"The Master hath but to talk, and it is answered, if my knowledge can
suffice." His words were submissive; but the expression was strange
in his eyes, at sight of the blanket on the table. That blanket might
hide--what might it not hide? The light in his gaze became one the
Master had never yet seen there, not even in the sternest fighting at
Gallipoli.
"Mecca lieth behind us, Rrisa," the Master began. "Thou hast seen
nothing of it, or of what happened there?"
"Nothing, _M'almé._ I was bidden remain in my cabin, and the Master's
word is always my law. It is true that I heard sounds of a great
fighting, but I obeyed the Master. I saw nothing. The Sheik Abd el
Hareth, did you deliver him into the hands of the Faithful?"
"No, Rrisa. They refused to accept him. And now I have other plans
for him. It is well that thou didst see nothing, for it was a mighty
fighting and there was death both to them and to us. Now, my questions
to thee."
"Yea, Master?"
"Tell me this thing, first. Is it indeed true speaking, as I have
heard, that the Caliph el Walid the First, in Hegira 88, sent to Mecca
an immense present of gold and silver, forty camel-loads of small cut
gems and a hundred thousand _miskals_ in gold 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'almé!_ 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'almé_, 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'almé_, 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 of his faith. Still, the Master's word was law even
above Al Koran. With trembling lips he made answer:
"This city--spare me uttering its name, Master!--lies many hours'
journey, even by this Eagle of the Sky, beyond the Iron Mountains that
no man of the Feringi hath ever seen. It lies beyond the Great Sand
Barrier, in a valley of the Inner Mountains; yea, at the very heart of
Ruba el Khali."
"I hear thee, Rrisa. Speak further. And let thy speaking be truth!"
"It shall be truth, by the Prophet's beard! What doth the Master ask
of me?"
"Is it a large city, Rrisa?"
"Very large."
"And beautiful?"
"As the Jebel Radhwa!" (Mountain of Paradise).
"Thou hast been in that secret city, Rrisa?"
"Once, Master. The wonderful sight still remaineth in mine eyes."
"And, seeing the Iron Mountains again, thou couldst guide us thither?"
"Allah forbid! That is among the black deeds, Master! 'The grave is
darkness and good deeds are its lamps; but for the betrayer, there
shall be no light!' _Wallah, Effendi!_ Do not make me your guide!"
"I have not said I intended to do so, Rrisa. I merely asked thee
if thou _couldst_!" The Master's voice was silken, fine, penetrant.
"Well, Rrisa, tell me if thou couldst!"
"Yea, Master. _Ya gharati!_ (O my calamity!) It is true I could." The
words issued from his unwilling throat as if torn out by main force.
"But I earnestly beg of you, my sheik, do not make me do this thing!"
"Rrisa, if I command, thou must obey me! 'There is only one thing can
ever loose the bonds I have knotted about thee."
"And that is certainty (death), Master?"
"That is certainty! But this, to the oath-breaker and the abuser
of the salt, means a place among the _mujrim_ (sinful). It means
Jehannum, and an unhappy couch shall it be!"
Rrisa's face grew even more drawn and lined. A trembling had possessed
his whole body.
"Master, I obey!" he made submission, then stood waiting with downcast
eyes of suffering.
"It is well," said the chief, rising. He stood for a moment peering at
Rrisa, while the hum and roar of the great air-liner's mechanism, the
dip and sway of its vast body through the upper air, seemed to add a
kind of oppressive solemnity to the tense situation. To the cabin
wall the Master turned. There hung a large-scale map of the Arabian
Peninsula. He laid a hand on the vast, blank interior, and nodded for
Rrisa to approach.
"Listen, thou," said he. "Thy knowledge is sufficient. Thou dost
understand the interpretation of maps, and canst read latitude and
longitude. Mark here the place of the Hidden City!"
"Of the Bara Jannati Shahr, Master? Ah no, _no_!"
"So then, that is its name?" the chief demanded, smiling.
"No, _M'almé_. Thou dost know the Arabic. Thou dost understand this
means only, in thy tongue, the Very Heavenly City."
"True. Well, let it pass. Very Heavenly City it shall be, till the
real name becomes known. Come now, mark the place of the Hidden City
and mark it truly, or the greatest of sins will lie upon thy soul!"
The Arab advanced a brown, quivering hand.
"Give me a pencil, Master, and I obey!" he answered, in a voice hardly
audible.