Nor did any of the Legionaries, bold as they were, look upon it without a strange contraction of the heart.

As for the Apostate Sheik, that old jackal of the desert was crouched in his place of confinement, with terror clutching at his soul; with visions of being torn to pieces by furious Sunnite mobs oppressing him.
And Rrisa, what of him?
Shut into his cabin, with the door locked against intrusion, he was lying face downward on the metal floor, praying.

For the first time in the world's history, a Moslem's _kiblah_, or direction of prayer, was directly downward! "Reverse!" ordered the Master.

Nissr hovered exactly above the Haram enclosure.

"Lower to five hundred feet, then hold her!" The air-liner sank slowly, with a hissing of air-intakes into the vacuum-floats, and hung there, trembling, quivering with the slow back-revolution of her screws, the swift energy of her helicopters.
The Master put her in charge of Janina, the Serbian ace, and descended to the lower gallery.
Here he found the crew assembled by Bohannan and Leclair ready for the perilous descent they were about to make.
He leaned over the rail, unmindful of the ragged patter of bullets from below, and with a judicial eye observed the prospect.