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England, George Allan, 1877-1936

"The Flying Legion"

Then, shoot to
kill! And whatever you do, stick together. Don't separate, no matter
what the provocation! Now, follow me!"
A strange feeling of anxiety, almost of fear, had taken hold on the
Master's heart. This fear was not in the least for himself or any
of the men. Hard-bitted adventurers all, they had gone into this
expedition with their eyes open, well knowing that some must
inevitably die before its close. They had gambled at dice with Fate;
and, losing, could have no complaint.
It was all for "Captain Alden" that the Master's anxiety was now
awakened. Here was a woman, not only exposed to risks of death, but
also of capture by Orientals--and what it might mean to a white woman
to be seized for some hidden harem in Jannati Shahr the Master knew
only too well. He found a moment's pause to speak in a low tone to the
"captain," unheard by any of the others.
"Remember the mercy-bullet!" said he. "If anything happens and there's
any risk of capture--remember, the last one for yourself!"
"If the worst comes," she whispered, "we can at least share death
together!"
He gazed at her a moment, not quite fathoming her words, but with an
inexplicable tightening round the heart.


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