The House of the Falcon
Yet not before Edith had pulled the bandoleer from the Tartar's shoulder, and the round cap from his head. She stripped off Aravang's heavy woolen hat and flung it into a corner, planting the Tartar's cap in its place and the cartridge belt over his arm. Meanwhile Aravang picked up the rifle, which he handled clumsily—not being accustomed to possession of such modern weapons.
Edith faced about as Monsey strode into the door, flung her a quick glance and moved toward Donovan.
"I can spare only a moment," the Russian smiled. "But after I have kept an appointment with the Sayaks I intend to return" he broke off. "Where is the other guard?"
He looked quickly from Donovan to the girl. His men watched from the doorway. Aravang, not understanding, was mute. Before Donovan could speak, Edith answered.
"Ask Abbas," she said. "He wants me to wait for him—after your appointment."
"The devil!"
"I think he is," Edith smiled.
Knowing Abbas, Monsey did not question her. And then there was the dull report of a rifle from the plateau. The Tartars stirred uneasily.
"Announcing our visitors," observed Monsey. He felt Donovan's bonds, muttering that he liked to be sure of his reception when he called again.
"One can never be too sure," nodded Donovan affably.
The Russian ordered the girl curtly up the ladder to the tower. "And no tricks, my lady." Edith obeyed with surprising readiness. After glancing around and making sure that all was as he wished,
252
