The darvish shrugged his shoulders. "I was in the hall of audience. I saw and I heard. And we two are powerless. But, _inschallah_! There is yet much that can be done." "Then let it be done--before I am deposed." "You shall have your vengeance, _saidi_. There is one who is the master of vengeances. The Lord of the World, who sits dreaming in the ruins of Atlânaat." The sultan shivered. "Why speak of Atlânaat? There is some slight merit in living long enough to be deposed and end one's days in Feringhistan, spending an annuity and being addressed as Majesty. Many have entered Atlânaat in hopes of wisdom and loot, and have left without even hope of forgetting what they have seen. Really, Ismeddin, that monstrous citadel was built by devils, and Shaitan's little sister dances there by moonlight." "Devils?" retorted Ismeddin. "Built rather by pre-Adamite kings." "As you will," conceded the sultan. "The distinction is purely academic. Yet the fact remains that sane men find less and less reason for visiting that fiend-haunted ruin. Once, a very long time ago, I saw a very little. But that was entirely too much. And that music, and that strange sweetness that drifts up from the depths...." Again the sultan shivered. "But I," countered Ismeddin, "have seen Atlânaat to its nethermost foundations. And there and there only lies your vengeance, and a jest such as the Old Tiger himself would have relished, if you can face the Lord of the World and his counsel." The darvish leaped to his feet. "_Saidi_, the Old Tiger would not have hesitated." "Done, by Allah and by my beard!" swore the sultan. "Yet I know any number of places I would rather visit, either by day or by night. Nevertheless----" "Let it then be nevertheless, my lord!" The sultan twice clapped his hands. Amru reappeared, and received orders: two horses at the Ispahan Gate, an hour after evening prayer; horses meanly equipped and poorly caparisoned. But before Amru could leave, Ismeddin interposed: "A moment, oh father of all wazirs!" And then, to the sultan: "What is to be done must be done quickly. Let Maksoud meet us at Atlânaat, so that the wisdom of the Lord of the World will not have time to cool in our ears." The sultan nodded, then spoke very briefly of four tongueless, black mamelukes, and of Maksoud who was to accompany them; and this cavalcade was to leave the city by a small gate which had no name. * * * * * An hour's ride from the Ispahan Gate brought Ismeddin and the sultan to the edge of the jungle in whose depths brooded the foundations of prodigious Atlânaat. They halted for a moment to gaze at the uncounted domes and minarets that towered high above the jungle and muttered secret words to the stars as they crept out one by one. Then Ismeddin took the lead, the sultan following in his trace.