The House of the Falcon
Monsey strode toward the door as a scattered burst of firing resounded nearer the Kurgan."
When he left the room his men followed. Edith, in the upper chamber, waited impatiently until Aravang's shaggy head was thrust up into the opening. Behind him came Donovan, stroking the wrists that the cords had numbed. The three faced each other silently in the gloom. It was Edith who spoke first.
"Come," she said thoughtfully, "to the tower top."
Donovan had taken the native's weapon and the bandoleer. He jerked open the breech, made sure that a cartridge was inserted, and ordered Aravang to surrender his revolver to Edith.
"Why?" he frowned. "I rather like it here—as a base of operations.'
"Because I want you to," insisted the girl.
Familiar by now with the damaged stairway, she advanced up to the open air. Donovan followed more slowly.
Night had fallen. But splinters of light were thrusting into the gloom of the Kurgan as the waiting men began to light the kerosene-soaked flares. First one and then another pine bundle crackled and blazed.
By the growing light they could see dark figures running up the Kurgan's entryway, and the line of Monsey's men standing behind the parapet. These had not yet begun to fire. The reports Edith had heard came from the patrols as they were driven back to the moat.
Near the rocks on the further plateau she thought she saw the light robes of groups of men moving. Overhead the stars had claimed the sky and the half-moon was shedding a hazy light Donovan took it all in.
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