This reassured him once more.
"They recognize the Stone, right enough," thought he. "As long as
nothing happens to that, we hold the whip-hand of them. Our only real
danger is that something _might_ happen to it. But a few hours, now,
will end all this. And in a few hours, what can happen?"
The Arabs ceased their droning supplications to Allah, which had been
rising with hypnotically soothing murmurs through the incensed air,
and now followed Bara Miyan toward the raised platform. The old Sheik
beckoned his guests. All disposed themselves comfortably among the
cushions. The Legionaries ignored what seemed a disposition on
the part of the Arabs to separate them--to scatter them along the
platform.
"Keep together, men," the Master commanded. "Group yourselves closely
here, in the middle. Say nothing. Watch everything. Make no move
without specific orders. If it comes to a fight, and I am killed,
Leclair will command you. His knowledge of Arabic temporarily ranks
him above Bohannan. Don't shoot unless it comes to hard necessity; but
if you do shoot, make every bullet count--and save the last one for
yourselves!"
Bara Miyan clapped his hands.
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