CHAPTER 7Godwin turned and looked back at them. In the moon’s light he was an uncanny figure, standing on lofty immaterial nothingness.
“Well,” he said testily, “come on. Can’t you see it’s all right?”
They gaped at him, eyes round as the declining moon. “How are you accomplishing that, comrade?” asked the Saracen.
“Accomplishing what? I’m only standing here.”
“Yes, but on air, for the love of Allah! How can you stand on air?”
“I happen,” said Godwin, distinctly and loudly, as though he were speaking to an imbecile. “I happen to be standing on the sands of the desert.”
“He’s mad, my child,” groaned El Sareuk.
“If he is, he’s doing as neat a job of being crazy as I ever saw,” retorted Ramizail. “Does his insanity affect the pull of the earth?”
“Hmm,” said the Hadji, “you’re right. W
