Shots crackled; yells echoed; and the sound of many sandaled feet, furiously running, filled the outer chamber with sounds of ominous import.
"_Ah, sacres cochons!_" shouted Leclair, emptying his pistol at the pursuers.

The Master thrust him back.

The door clanged shut; down dropped another bar.
Bohannan laughed madly.

The fighting-blood was leaping in his veins.
"Oh, the grand fight!" he shouted.

"God, the grand old fight!" Confused voices, crying out in Arabic, wheeled the Master from the door.
This inner chamber, very much smaller than the outer, was well lighted by still more lamps, though here all were of chased silver.
At the far end, four dim figures were visible.