Here we met a few revellers, while from time to time night-birds flitted
from the doorways and, throwing aside their veils, looked at us, but
as we made no sign drew back again, thinking that we passed to some
assignation. We reached the deserted docks upon the river's edge
and came to a little quay, alongside of which a broad ferryboat was
fastened.
"You must put your horses into it and row across," Rassen said, "for
the bridges are guarded, and without discovering myself I cannot bid the
soldiers to let you pass."
So with some little trouble we urged the horses into the boat, where I
held them by their bridles while Leo took the oars.
"Now go your ways, accursed wanderers," cried the Khan as he thrust us
from the quay, "and pray the Spirit of the Mountain that the old Rat and
his pupil--your love, Yellow-beard, your love--are not watching you in
their magic glass. For if so we may meet again."
Then as the stream caught us, sweeping the boat out towards the centre
of the river, he began to laugh that horrible laugh of his, calling
after us--"Ride fast, ride fast for safety, strangers; there is death
behind."
Leo put out his strength and backed water, so that the punt hung upon
the edge of the stream.
"I think that we should do well to land again and kill that man, for he
means mischief," he said.
He spoke in English, but Rassen must have caught the ring of his
voice and guessed its meaning with the cunning of the mad.
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