Behind loomed the vast bulk of _Nissr_, scarred, battle-worn, but powerful.

Away in the distance, the glinting golden walls shimmered across the plain; and over all the Arabian sun glowed down as if a-wonder at this scene surpassing strange.
Forward stepped the Master, with a word to Leclair to follow him but to stand a little in the rear.

The old Sheik dismounted; and followed by another graybeard, likewise advanced.

When the distance was but about eight feet between them, both halted.

Silence continued, broken only by the dull drone of one engine still running on board the ship, by the creaking of saddle-leather, the whinny of a barb.
Lithe, powerful, alert, with his cap held over his heart, the Master stood there peering from under his thick, dark brows at the aged Sheik.