Page:Harold Lamb--The House of the Falcon.djvu/199

 The mosque, in fact, was warmed by it. Edith had fancied for a brief moment that it was incense, rising from a gigantic censer. Then she recalled the hot springs of the lower lake.

Evidently the mosque itself had been erected over one of the sources, and the vapor welled from the hot depths of the water.

The sunlight had just reached the vapor when the priest ceased his reading and lifted both lean arms. A high chant rose from his lips, and he turned to face what Edith still fancied the white incense. And this man, she felt, was the hadji of whom Donovan had spoken.

"Nuri Muhammed s'all Allah!"

And the multitude responded:

"La il'oha ill Allah!" As one, the heads bent downward toward the breasts of the worshipers. Long folds of the white turbans were detached and laid over the left shoulder. As if performing a well-learned ritual, certain lines of Sayaks rose, with extended arms. Others remained kneeling.

The sight of the concentric rings of multicolored garments, the intent faces, and the lifted hands made Edith draw back, fearful of observation. Utter silence had fallen on the mosque.

In the silence, the worshipers appeared to be awaiting something. She saw that they were gazing at the vapor. By now Edith realized that this was no ordinary Mohammedan mosque.

And then she saw John Donovan.

In the intervals between the Sayak lines he was walking, looking closely at the figures of the kneeling women.