A JEST and a VENGEANCE
By E. HOFFMANN PRICE
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Weird Tales September 1929.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
A bullet flattened itself against the chiseled arabesques of the wall behind Sultan Schamas ad Din of Angor-lana, spattering him with bits of lead and splinters of marble.
"Maksoud is a notoriously wretched marksman," observed the sultan as he fingered the leaden slug which Amru, his white-haired wazir, had retrieved from the tiled floor. "Still, with enough trials——"
The sultan thrust his cushions a sword's length to the right, and moved just far enough to be secure against further rifle fire from the minaret of the neighboring mosque.
"With enough trials," resumed Schamas ad Din, "Maksoud may not have to wait for the British Resident to find a pretext to depose me."
"It might not have been the son of your brother," suggested Amru, as he moved the fuming nargileh to the sultan's new position, and offered him the carved jade stem. "There are several who have old grudges to settle."
"Undoubtedly," agreed the sultan. "But who else would fire from the mosque? And then miss such an easy mark!"