The House of the Falcon
In this state of half-wakefulness, the whole aspect of her plight lost its reality. What were the tower, the Kurgan, Monsey, but a bad dream, like the one in Srinagar? Only Donovan was real. She rested her cheek against his arm.
Dull sounds from the regions below failed to disturb her as they did the man. He did not relish hearing an incendiary pyre prepared. But he was powerless to do anything save watch from the tower top.
His arm tightened about the woman. She was his. Nothing must take her away from him now"
Presently he shook her gently into consciousness.
"Listen," he said quietly.
A sound from the plateau had reached his keen ears. He could not identify it. Edith hearkened.
"Why, it's camels," she said at once. "I ought to know their coughing by now. But what in the world are camels doing around here?"
"I fancy you're right" He rose and stepped to the parapet. Something was moving in front of the Kurgan. He strained his eyes through the haze of moonlight Some shapes, clumsy and grotesque, were taking semblance.
The girl was not sure she was not still dreaming—except for Donovan's aroused interest. Camels! Why, that was absurd. Unless a wandering herd had strayed there
"They are coming here," whispered Donovan.
She could hear the tinkle of rusty bells now, and the protesting cough of the beasts—even the muffled calls of the drivers, still veiled in the haze. Shadows were passing over the ground.
The thought came to her that here was aid; but at once she reflected that her father's party must be
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