A Pledge
beard, was almost invisible under the loose folds of a white turban. He looked from one to the other and nodded slowly.
"I have heard—I have seen."
The chief and Iskander released their weapons. Donovan drew a deep breath.
"I have seen the life of a man offered with that of the woman," went on the hadji, his sonorous voice awaking echoes under the dome. "A life for a life. It is sufficient. It fulfills the law, which is not alone of revenge, but of mercy."
Edith fancied that he smiled.
"O, my foolish children! Did you think that the peace of Yakka Arik and its mosque rested upon the tongue of one woman? Let the white man and the woman go free from the mosque."
With that he turned, to disappear through the curtain, and the Sayaks bent reverent eyes to the floor. The master of Yakka Arik had spoken.
At the door Iskander touched Donovan on the arm.
"Do not forget the pledge," he whispered. "Miss Rand must not attempt to leave the valley."
"I will not forget," said Donovan.
They found Aravang striding up and down outside the guards, his broad face harassed. At sight of them, he ran forward.
"Take the white woman to her house," commanded Donovan. "I must go with the Sayaks. There is much to be done."
Edith, once more in possession of her veil and slippers, lingered. Her eyes sought those of John Donovan. "Tell me," she begged. "I know we were—in danger."
"Perhaps." He laughed, at the proscribed word.
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