Michael White, The Treasure Of The Mosque (1912)
“ Firoz Khan’s eyes gleamed as he bent the blade of his sword double and let it fly backward into position. With a grip on the hilt which made the sinews on his bronze forearm start forth like whipcords of metal, he held the sword upward so that the sunlight flashed upon the steel. “Allah Akbar!” he muttered. “There are many things to be settled. What does Dunkar Rao’s piglet of a son do slinking near the mosque after night fall?” “Aye!” ejaculated Lambert, who suddenly perceived a connection between the whisperings under his window and the bit of news just disclosed by his landlord. ”
