“Then seize it,” she bade him instantly. “For though it should go against us we shall not be losers.”
“You are prepared for anything?” he asked her.
“Have I not said that I will go down with you this night? Ah, don’t waste time in words!”
“Be it so, then,” he replied gravely, and moved away a step, then checked. “You had best come with me,” he said.
Obediently she complied and followed him, and some there were who stared as these two passed down the gangway, yet none attempted to hinder her movements. Enough and to spare was there already to engage the thoughts of all aboard that vessel.
He thrust a way for her, past the boatswain’s mates who stood over the slaves ferociously plying tongues and whips, and so brought her to the waist. Here he took up the lantern which had been muffled, and as its light once more streamed forth, Asad shouted an order for its extinction. But Sakr-el-Bahr took no least heed of that command. He stepped to the mainmast, about which the powder kegs had been stacked. One of these had been broached against its being needed by the gunners on the poop. The unfastened lid rested loosely atop of it. That lid Sakr-el-Bahr knocked over; then he pulled one of the horn sides out of the lantern, and held the now half-naked flame immediately above the powder.
A cry of alarm went up from some who had watched him. But above that cry rang his sharp command:
“Cease rowing!”
The tomtom fell instantly silent, but the slaves took yet another stroke.
“Cease rowing!” he commanded again. “Asad!” he called. “Bid them pause, or I’ll blow you all straight into the arms of Shaitan.” And he lowered the lantern until it rested on the very rim of the powder keg.