HIS EXCELLENCY
His Excellency President Tintinto, Chief Executive of one of the newer and cruder republics, visiting New York incognito with his Secretaries of War and of the Navy, had sent for John Recklow. And now the reception was in full operation.
Recklow was explaining. “In the beginning,” he said, “the Bolsheviks’ aim was to destroy everything and everybody except themselves, and then to reorganise for their own benefit what was left of a wrecked world. That was their programme——”
“Quite a programme,” interrupted the Secretary of War, with something that almost resembled a giggle. But his prominent eyes continued to stare at Recklow untouched by the mirth which stretched his large, silly mouth.
The face of the Secretary of the Navy resembled the countenance of a benevolent manatee. The visage of the President was a study in tinted chalks.
Recklow said: “To combat that sort of Bolshevism was a business that we of the United States Secret Service understood—or supposed we understood.
“Then, suddenly, out of unknown Mongolia and into the civilised world stepped eight men.”
“Yezidees,” said the President mechanically. “Your Government has sent me a very full report.”
“Yezidees of the Sect of the Assassins,” continued Recklow; “—the most ancient sect in the world surviving from ancient times—the Sorcerers of Asia. And, as it was in ancient times, so it is now: the Yezidees are devil worshipers; their god is Satan; his prophet is Erlik, Prince of Darkness; his regent on earth is the old man of Mount Alamout; and to this ancient and sinister title a Yezidee sorcerer called Prince Sanang, or Sanang Noïane, has succeeded.
“His murderous deputies were the Eight Khans of the Eight Towers. Four of these assassins are dead—Gutchlug, Yarghouz, Djamouk the Fox, and Yaddin-ed-Din. One is in prison charged with murder,—Albert Feke.