The House of the Falcon
the Alaman must be visible to some one without, framed as it was against the afterglow in the west.
So Edith tightened her lips, and pushed suddenly with all the strength of her young arms. Taken unawares, the native, overbalanced, fell forward through the gap. A grunt resounded. He did not fall far.
With strained ears, Edith heard a rifle rattle over the stones. The next instant the legs and scrambling feet of the guard disappeared as though drawn downward. A cough sounded, then the rustle of a heavy body following the rifle. Then silence.
The slight noises had resounded like miniature explosions. But apparently the two sentries still kept their posts. The bustle in the court and the stamping of hordes drowned the struggle outside the wall.
"My goodness!" Edith realized what had happened. "Oh, the poor man"
She shivered as the powerful figure of Aravang crawled up beside her, climbing over the débris of rocks without. She caught the pungent scent of sweat-soaked wool.
"Missy khanum!" Aravang thrust a cold metal object into her hand, fumbling for it in the dark. His own paw was damp.
Edith pushed the revolver back, wishing ardently that she could speak so that Aravang would understand. On thinking the matter over, she realized that it would be safe for her servant to enter the Kurgan. No one there knew Aravang, and as far as appearance went he was much like the motley men of Monsey's forces.
"Come," she whispered, laying hand on his shoulder. The man was breathing hard, his giant shoulders tensed, like a swimmer after a long battle with the
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