And all, alike, converged toward the gate.
But to these, the little party of four gave no heed.

Other men absorbed their interest--sleeping men, now more and more thickly scattered all along the stockade.

Save for a slight, saline tang to the air--an odor by no means unpleasant--nothing remained of the lethal gas.
But its victims still lay there, prone, in every possible attitude of complete and overpowering abandonment.

And all, as the party of four passed, were quickly disarmed.

Up and down the open space, other Legionaries were at the same work.
The Master and his companions reached the gate-house first of any in the party.