Not all this treasure was lost, White Sheik!" The Master started, peered at Bara Miyan and forgot to chew his soothing khat leaves.
"And then-- ?" asked he.
"Some twenty thousand of the most precious parchments were privately carried by our _Sufis_ to Medina, and thence, after many years, to Jannati Shahr.

Here they still lie, in perfect form, clearly to be read.

This is a treasure that would set the world of the Feringi ablaze and make thee as a god among thy people.

Ask this gift, O Frank, and it shall be granted thee! For the mere asking, this treasure shall be thine!" The Master shook his head.

Deeply as he understood the incalculable value of the lost books of antiquity, he well knew that to offer his Legion such a booty would be all in vain.