"Two minutes more! Keep your eyes on your watches, now. Get your
lethal guns ready! In 120 seconds, you will hear the first capsule
burst. Ten seconds after that, Alden, fire yours. Ten later, yours,
Bohannan. Ten later, yours, Rrisa. Listen hard! Hold steady!"

The silence drew at them like a pain. Rrisa breathed something in
which the words: "_La Illaha ilia Allah_" transpired in a wraith of
sound. Alden nestled closer into the ferns. Bohannan could hardly hold
his poise.

All three now had their capsule pistols ready. The self-luminous
compass and level attached to each gun gave them their exact direction
and elevation. Glimmering watches marked the time, the dragging of the
last few seconds.

The Master drew no weapon. His mind, directing all, observing all, was
not to be distracted by even so small a detail as any personal hand in
the discharge of the lethal gas.

If he felt the strain of the final moment, on which hung vaster
issues than mere life or death, he gave no indication of it. His eyes
remained fixed on the watch-dial at his wrist. They were confident,
those eyes. The vague shimmer of the watch-glow showed them dark and
grave; his face, faintly revealed, was impassive, emotionless.

It seemed the face of a scientist, a chemist who--having worked out
his formula to its ultimate minutiae--now felt utter trust in its
reactions, now was only waiting to observe what he well knew must
inevitably happen.