Now she was on her knees beside one of the dead Maghrabis--the one killed by Janina.

She found nothing; turned to the other; uttered a cry of exultation and held up a clumsy key.
Back over the floor of gold she ran.

Her fingers held a crimson cord, from which the key dangled.
"Those two--they were guardians of this vault, of course!" she cried.
"Here is the key!" A cheer burst from the Legionaries.

The Master clutched the key, pressed forward to the inner door.

A terrible intensity of emotion seized all the survivors, as he fitted the key to the ponderous lock.
"God!" the Irishman grunted, as the wards slid back.