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THE TREASURE OF THE MOSQUE
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put off vengeance on the monkeys to find a way out of the garden. At all costs he knew he must avoid the sacred precincts of the mosque itself, where the discovery of a Christian might mean death. But casting his mind back over the scene by daylight, he recollected there had seemed to be a passage dividing the precincts of the mosque from the mullah’s house, which possibly led to an exit. He decided to search for the passage, keeping well within the shadows. Thus proceeding cautiously Lambert reached the passage and entered. As he groped along in darkness as black as ink, guiding his steps by a hand on the wall, the passage turned and twisted in various directions, and seemed of interminable length. Where it ended he had not the vaguest idea, he soon lost all sense of position. It was also ominously silent. Presently he halted abruptly. He fancied he heard a stealthy step following. Lambert set his back to the wall and with clenched fists took an offensive rather than a defensive position. Should it chance to be one of the fanatical hangers on of the mosque, it would be wisest to get in a good telling blow first and trust to luck for the rest. The step drew nearer and Lambert held his breath with muscles tense. He was about to strike, when some undefined impulse, for which he devoutly thanked Heaven afterwards, caused him to hold back. In another moment a soft hand gently swept his shoulders and crept upward to his mouth. Then—— then——Ye gods! he felt the hand pass around his neck, his head was drawn downward, and——he was held in the sweetest, tenderest embrace.

“Hush!” the soft hand was quickly placed upon his mouth. “Desire of my desire! Heart of my heart! Life of my life! Even so have I done thy wish.”