readiness to repel attack, gained what he had lost.

Leaving their farms, they crowded together into the towns and villages,
where they made what in South Africa are called laagers. Religion,
which practically had been dead among them, for they retained but few
traces of the Jewish faith if, indeed, they had ever really practised
it, became the craze of the hour. Priests were at a premium; sheep and
cattle were sacrificed; it was even said that, after the fashion of
their foes the Fung, some human beings shared the same fate. At any
rate the Almighty was importuned hourly to destroy the hated Fung and
to protect His people—the Abati—from the results of their own base
selfishness and cowardly neglect.

Well, the world has seen such exhibitions before to-day, and will
doubtless see more of them in the instance of greater peoples who allow
luxury and pleasure-seeking to sap their strength and manhood.

The upshot of it all was that the Abati became obsessed with the saying
of the Fung scouts to the shepherds, which, after all, was but a
repetition of that of their envoys delivered to the Council a little
while before: that they should hasten to destroy the idol Harmac, lest
he should move himself to Mur. How an idol of such proportions, or even
its head, could move at all they did not stop to inquire. It was
obvious to them, however, that if he was destroyed there would be
nothing to move and, further, that we Gentiles were the only persons
who could possibly effect such destruction. So we also became popular
for a little while. Everybody was pleasant and flattered
us—everybody, even Joshua, bowed when we approached, and took a most
lively interest in the progress of our work, which many deputations and
prominent individuals urged us to expedite.

Better still, the untoward accidents such as those I have mentioned,
ceased. Our dogs, for we had obtained some others, were no longer
poisoned; rocks that appeared fixed did not fall; no arrows whistled
among us when we went out riding. We even found it safe occasionally to
dispense with our guards, since it was every one’s interest to keep
us alive—for the present. Still, I for one was not deceived for a
single moment, and in season and out of season warned the others that
the wind would soon blow again from a less favourable quarter.

We worked, we worked, we worked! Heaven alone knows how we did work.
Think of the task, which, after all, was only one of several. A tunnel
must be bored, for I forget how far, through virgin rock, with the help
of inadequate tools and unskilled labour, and this tunnel must be
finished by a certain date. A hundred unexpected difficulties arose,
and one by one were conquered. Great dangers must be run, and were
avoided, while the responsibility of this tremendous engineering feat
lay upon the shoulders of a single individual, Oliver Orme, who,
although he had been educated as an engineer, had no great practical
experience of such enterprises.

Truly the occasion makes the man, for Orme rose to it in a way that I
can only call heroic. When he was not actually in the tunnel he was
labouring at his calculations, of which many must be made, or taking
levels with such instruments as he had. For if there proved to be the
slightest error all this toil would be in vain, and result only in the
blowing of a useless hole through a mass of rock. Then there was a
great question as to the effect which would be produced by the amount
of explosive at his disposal, since terrible as might be the force of
the stuff, unless it were scientifically placed and distributed it
would assuredly fail to accomplish the desired end.

At last, after superhuman efforts, the mine was finished. Our stock of
concentrated explosive, about four full camel loads of it, was set in as
many separate chambers, each of them just large enough to receive the
charge, hollowed in the primæval rock from which the idol had been
hewn.

These chambers were about twenty feet from each other, although if there
had been time to prolong the tunnel, the distance should have been at
least forty in order to give the stuff a wider range of action.
According to Oliver’s mathematical reckoning, they were cut in the
exact centre of the base of the idol, and about thirty feet below the
actual body of the crouching sphinx. As a matter of fact this reckoning
was wrong in several particulars, the charges having been set farther
toward the east or head of the sphinx and higher up in the base than he
supposed. When it is remembered that he had found no opportunity of
measuring the monument which practically we had only seen once from
behind under conditions not favourable to accuracy in such respects, or
of knowing its actual length and depth, these trifling errors were not
remarkable.

What was remarkable is that his general plan of operations, founded upon
a mere hypothetical estimate, should have proved as accurate as it did.

At length all was prepared, and the deadly cast-iron flasks had been
packed in sand, together with dynamite cartridges, the necessary
detonators, electric wires, and so forth, an anxious and indeed awful
task executed entirely in that stifling atmosphere by the hands of Orme
and Quick. Then began another labour, that of the filling in of the
tunnels. This, it seems, was necessary, or so I understood, lest the
expanding gases, following the line of least resistance, should blow
back, as it were, through the vent-hole. What made that task the more
difficult was the need of cutting a little channel in the rock to
contain the wires, and thereby lessen the risk of the fracture of these
wires in the course of the building-up process. Of course, if by any
accident this should happen, the circuit would be severed, and no
explosion would follow when the electric battery was set to work.

The arrangement was that the mine should be fired on the night of that
full moon on which we had been told, and spies confirmed the
information, the feast of the marriage of Barung’s daughter to my son
would be celebrated in the city of Harmac. This date was fixed because
the Sultan had announced that so soon as that festivity, which
coincided with the conclusion of the harvest, was ended, he meant to
deliver his attack on Mur.

Also, we were anxious that it should be adhered to for another reason,
since we knew that on this day but a small number of priests and guards
would be left in charge of the idol, and my son could not be among
them. Now, whatever may have been the views of the Abati, we as
Christians who bore them no malice did not at all desire to destroy an
enormous number of innocent Fung, as might have happened if we had
fired our mine when the people were gathered to sacrifice to their god.

The fatal day arrived at last. All was completed, save for the blocking
of the passage, which still went on, or, rather, was being reinforced
by the piling up of loose rocks against its mouth, at which a hundred
or so men laboured incessantly. The firing wires had been led into that
little chamber in the old temple where the dog Pharaoh tore out the
throat of Shadrach, and no inch of them was left unguarded for fear of
accident or treachery.

The electric batteries—two of them, in case one should fail—had
been tested but not connected with the wires. There they stood upon the
floor, looking innocent enough, and we four sat round them like wizards
round their magic pot, who await the working of some spell. We were not
cheerful; who could be under so intense a strain? Orme, indeed, who had
grown pale and thin with continuous labour of mind and body, seemed
quite worn out. He could not eat nor smoke, and with difficulty I
persuaded him to drink some of the native wine. He would not even go to
look at the completion of the work or to test the wires.

“You can see to it,” he said; “I have done all I can. Now
things must take their chance.”

After our midday meal he lay down and slept quite soundly for several
hours. About four o’clock those who were labouring at the piling up
of débris over the mouth of the tunnel completed their task, and, in
charge of Quick, were marched out of the underground city.

Then Higgs and I took lamps and went along the length of the wires,
which lay in a little trench covered over with dust, removing the dust
and inspecting them at intervals. Discovering nothing amiss, we
returned to the old temple, and at its doorway met the mountaineer,
Japhet, who throughout all these proceedings had been our prop and
stay. Indeed, without his help and that of his authority over the Abati
the mine could never have been completed, at any rate within the time.

The light of the lamp showed that his face was very anxious.

“What is the matter?” I asked.

“O Physician,” he answered, “I have words for the ear of the
Captain Orme. Be pleased to lead me to him.”

We explained that he slept and could not be disturbed, but Japhet only
answered as before, adding:

“Come you with me, my words are for your ears as well as his.”

So we went into the little room and awoke Oliver, who sprang up in a
great fright, thinking that something untoward had happened at the
mine.

“What’s wrong?” he asked of Japhet. “Have the Fung cut
the wires?”

“Nay, O Orme, a worse thing; I have discovered that the Prince Joshua
has laid a plot to steal away ‘Her-whose-name-is-high.’”

“What do you mean? Set out all the story, Japhet,” said Oliver.

“It is short, lord. I have some friends, one of whom—he is of my
own blood, but ask me not his name—is in the service of the Prince. We
drank a cup of wine together, which I needed, and I suppose it loosed
his tongue. At any rate, he told me, and I believed him. This is the
story. For his own sake and that of the people the Prince desires that
you should destroy the idol of Fung, and therefore he has kept his
hands off you of late. Yet should you succeed, he does not know what
may happen. He fears lest the Abati in their gratitude should set you
up as great men.”

“Then he is an ass!” interrupted Quick; “for the Abati have
no gratitude.”

“He fears,” went on Japhet, “other things also. For instance,
that the Child of Kings may express that gratitude by a mark of her
signal favour toward one of you,” and he stared at Orme, who turned
his head aside. “Now, the Prince is affianced to this great lady,
whom he desires to wed for two reasons: First, because this marriage
will make him the chief man amongst the Abati, and, secondly, because
of late he has come to think that he loves her whom he is afraid that
he may lose. So he has set a snare.”

“What snare?” asked one of us, for Japhet paused.

“I don’t know,” answered Japhet, “and I do not think
that my friend knew either, or, if he did, he would not tell me. But I
understand the plot is that the Child of Kings is to be carried off to
the Prince Joshua’s castle at the other end of the lake, six hours’
ride away, and there be forced to marry him at once.”

“Indeed,” said Orme, “and when is all this to happen?”

“I don’t know, lord. I know nothing except what my friend told me,
which I thought it right to communicate to you instantly. I asked him
the time, however, and he said that he believed the date was fixed for
one night after next Sabbath.”

“Next Sabbath is five days hence, so that this matter does not seem to
be very pressing,” remarked Oliver with a sigh of relief. “Are you
sure that you can trust your friend, Japhet?”

“No, lord, I am not sure, especially as I have always known him to be
a liar. Still, I thought that I ought to tell you.”

“Very kind of you, Japhet, but I wish that you had let me have my
sleep out first. Now go down the line and see that all is right, then
return and report.”

Japhet saluted in his native fashion and went.

“What do you think of this story?” asked Oliver, as soon as he was
out of hearing.

“All bosh,” answered Higgs; “the place is full of talk and
rumours, and this is one of them.”

He paused and looked at me.

“Oh!” I said, “I agree with Higgs. If Japhet’s friend
had really anything to tell he would have told it in more detail. I
daresay there are a good many things Joshua would like to do, but I
expect he will stop there, at any rate, for the present. If you take my
advice you will say nothing of the matter, especially to Maqueda.”

“Then we are all agreed. But what are you thinking of, Sergeant?”
asked Oliver, addressing Quick, who stood in a corner of the room, lost
apparently in contemplation of the floor.

“I, Captain,” he replied, coming to attention. “Well, begging
their pardon, I was thinking that I don’t hold with these gentlemen,
except in so far that I should say nothing of this job to our Lady, who
has plenty to bother her just now, and won’t need to be frightened as
well. Still, there may be something in it, for though that Japhet is
stupid, he’s honest, and honest men sometimes get hold of the right
end of the stick. At least, he believes there is something, and
that’s what weighs with me.”

“Well, if that’s your opinion, what’s best to be done
Sergeant? I agree that the Child of Kings should not be told, and I
shan’t leave this place till after ten o’clock to-night at the
earliest, if we stick to our plans, as we had better do, for all that
stuff in the tunnel wants a little time to settle, and for other
reasons. What are you drawing there?” and he pointed to the floor, in
the dust of which Quick was tracing something with his finger.

“A plan of our Lady’s private rooms, Captain. She told you she was
going to rest at sundown, didn’t she, or earlier, for she was up most
of last night, and wanted to get a few hours’ sleep
before—something happens. Well, her bed-chamber is there, isn’t it?
and another before it, in which her maids sleep, and nothing behind
except a high wall and a ditch which cannot be climbed.”

“That’s quite true,” interrupted Higgs. “I got leave to
make a plan of the palace, only there is a passage six feet wide and
twenty long leading from the guard chamber to the ladies’
anteroom.”

“Just so, Professor, and that passage has a turn in it, if I remember
right, so that two well-armed men could hold it against quite a lot.
Supposing now that you and I, Professor, should go and take a nap in
that guard-room, which will be empty, for the watch is set at the
palace gate. We shan’t be wanted here, since if the Captain can’t
touch off that mine, no one can, with the Doctor to help him just in
case anything goes wrong, and Japhet guarding the line. I daresay
there’s nothing in this yarn, but who knows? There might be, and then
we should blame ourselves. What do you say, Professor?”

“I? Oh, I’ll do anything you wish, though I should rather have
liked to climb the cliff and watch what happens.”

“You’d see nothing, Higgs,” interrupted Oliver, “except
perhaps the reflection of a flash in the sky; so, if you don’t mind, I
wish you would go with the Sergeant. Somehow, although I am quite
certain that we ought not to alarm Maqueda, I am not easy about her,
and if you two fellows were there, I should know she was all right, and
it would be a weight off my mind.”

“That settles it,” said Higgs; “we’ll be off presently.
Look here, give us that portable telephone, which is of no use anywhere
else now. The wire will reach to the palace, and if the machine works
all right we can talk to you and tell each other how things are going
on.”

Ten minutes later they had made their preparations. Quick stepped up to
Oliver and stood at attention, saying:

“Ready to march. Any more orders, Captain?”

“I think not, Sergeant,” he answered, lifting his eyes from the
little batteries that he was watching as though they were live things.
“You know the arrangements. At ten o’clock—that is about two
hours hence—I touch this switch. Whatever happens it must not be done
before, for fear lest the Doctor’s son should not have left the idol,
to say nothing of all the other poor beggars. The spies say that the
marriage feast will not be celebrated until at least three hours after
moonrise.”

“And that’s what I heard when I was a prisoner,” interrupted
Higgs.

“I daresay,” answered Orme; “but it is always well to allow a
margin in case the procession should be delayed, or something. So until
ten o’clock I’ve got to stop where I am, and you may be sure,
Doctor, that under no circumstances shall I fire the mine before that
hour, as indeed you will be here to see. After that I can’t say what
will happen, but if we don’t appear, you two had better come to look
for us—in case of accidents, you know. Do your best at your end
according to circumstances; the Doctor and I will do our best at ours.
I think that is all, Sergeant. Report yourselves by the telephone if
the wire is long enough and it will work, which I daresay it won’t,
and, anyway, look out for us about half-past ten. Good-bye!”

“Good-bye, Captain,” answered Quick, then stretched out his hand,
shook that of Orme, and without another word took his lamp and left the
chamber.

An impulse prompted me to follow him, leaving Orme and Higgs discussing
something before they parted. When he had walked about fifty yards in
the awful silence of that vast underground town, of which the ruined
tenements yawned on either side of us, the Sergeant stopped and said
suddenly:

“You don’t believe in presentiments, do you, Doctor?”

“Not a bit,” I answered.

“Glad of it, Doctor. Still, I have got a bad one now, and it is that I
shan’t see the Captain or you any more.”

“Then that’s a poor look-out for us, Quick.”

“No, Doctor, for me. I think you are both all right, and the
Professor, too. It’s my name they are calling up aloft, or so it
seems to me. Well, I don’t care much, for, though no saint, I have
tried to do my duty, and if it is done, it’s done. If it’s written,
it’s got to come to pass, hasn’t it? For everything is written down
for us long before we begin, or so I’ve always thought. Still, I’ll
grieve to part from the Captain, seeing that I nursed him as a child,
and I’d have liked to know him well out of this hole, and safely
married to that sweet lady first, though I don’t doubt that it will
be so.”

“Nonsense, Sergeant,” I said sharply; “you are not yourself;
all this work and anxiety has got on your nerves.”

“As it well might, Doctor, not but I daresay that’s true. Anyhow,
if the other is the true thing, and you should all see old England again
with some of the stuff in that dead-house, I’ve got three nieces
living down at home whom you might remember. Don’t say nothing of
what I told you to the Captain till this night’s game is played,
seeing that it might upset him, and he’ll need to keep cool up to ten
o’clock, and afterwards too, perhaps. Only if we shouldn’t meet
again, say that Samuel Quick sent him his duty and God’s blessing.
And the same on yourself, Doctor, and your son, too. And now here comes
the Professor, so good-bye.”

A minute later they had left me, and I stood watching them until the two
stars of light from their lanterns vanished into the blackness.

CHAPTER XVI.

HARMAC COMES TO MUR

Slowly and in very bad spirits I retraced my steps to the old temple,
following the line of the telephone wire which Higgs and Quick had
unreeled as they went. In the Sergeant’s prognostications of evil I
had no particular belief, as they seemed to me to be born of the
circumstances which surrounded us, and in different ways affected all
our minds, even that of the buoyant Higgs.

To take my own case, for instance. Here I was about to assist in an act
which for aught I knew might involve the destruction of my only son. It
was true we believed that this was the night of his marriage at the
town of Harmac, some miles away, and that the tale of our spies
supported this information. But how could we be sure that the date, or
the place of the ceremony, had not been changed at the last moment?
Supposing, for instance, that it was held, not in the town, as
arranged, but in the courts of the idol, and that the fearful
activities of the fiery agent which we were about to wake to life should
sweep the celebrants into nothingness.

The thought made me turn cold, and yet the deed must be done; Roderick
must take his chance. And if all were well, and he escaped that danger,
were there not worse behind? Think of him, a Christian man, the husband
of a savage woman who worshipped a stone image with a lion’s head,
bound to her and her tribe, a state prisoner, trebly guarded, whom, so
far as I could see, there would be no hope of rescuing. It was awful.
Then there were other complications. If the plan succeeded and the idol
was destroyed, my own belief was that the Fung must thereby be
exasperated. Evidently they knew some road into this stronghold. It
would be used. They would pour their thousands up it, a general
massacre would follow, of which, justly, we should be the first
victims.

I reached the chamber where Oliver sat brooding alone, for Japhet was
patrolling the line.

“I am not happy about Maqueda, Doctor,” he said to me. “I am
afraid there is something in that story. She wanted to be with us;
indeed, she begged to be allowed to come almost with tears. But I
wouldn’t have it, since accidents may always happen; the vibration
might shake in the roof or something; in fact, I don’t think you
should be here. Why don’t you go away and leave me?”

I answered that nothing would induce me to do so, for such a job should
not be left to one man.

“No, you’re right,” he said; “I might faint or lose my
head or anything. I wish now that we had arranged to send the spark from
the palace, which perhaps we might have done by joining the telephone
wire on to the others. But, to tell you the truth, I’m afraid of the
batteries. The cells are new but very weak, for time and the climate
have affected them, and I thought it possible the extra distance might
make the difference and that they would fail to work. That’s why I
fixed this as the firing point. Hullo, there’s the bell. What have
they got to say?”

I snatched the receiver, and presently heard the cheerful voice of Higgs
announcing that they had arrived safely in the little anteroom to
Maqueda’s private apartments.

“The palace seems very empty,” he added; “we only met one
sentry, for I think that everybody else, except Maqueda and a few of her
ladies, have cleared out, being afraid lest rocks should fall on them
when the explosion occurs.”

“Did the man say so?” I asked of Higgs.

“Yes, something of that sort; also he wanted to forbid us to come
here, saying that it was against the Prince Joshua’s orders that we
Gentiles should approach the private apartments of the Child of Kings.
Well, we soon settled that, and he bolted. Where to? Oh! I don’t
know; to report, he said.”

“How’s Quick?” I asked.

“Much the same as usual. In fact, he is saying his prayers in the
corner, looking like a melancholy brigand with rifles, revolvers, and
knives stuck all over him. I wish he wouldn’t say his prayers,”
added Higgs, and his voice reached me in an indignant squeak; “it
makes me feel uncomfortable, as though I ought to join him. But not
having been brought up a Dissenter or a Moslem, I can’t pray in
public as he does. Hullo! Wait a minute, will you?”

Then followed a longish pause, and after it Higgs’s voice again.

“It’s all right,” it said. “Only one of Maqueda’s
ladies who had heard us and come to see who we were. When she learns I
expect she will join us here, as the girl says she’s nervous and
can’t sleep.”

Higgs proved right in his anticipations, for in about ten minutes we
were rung up again, this time by Maqueda herself, whereon I handed the
receiver to Oliver and retired to the other end of the room.

Nor, to tell the truth, was I sorry for the interruption, since it
cheered up Oliver and helped to pass the time.

The next thing worth telling that happened was that, an hour or more
later, Japhet arrived, looking very frightened. We asked him our usual
question: if anything was wrong with the wires. With a groan he
answered “No,” the wires seemed all right, but he had met a ghost.

“What ghost, you donkey?” I said.

“The ghost of one of the dead kings, O Physician, yonder in the burial
cave. It was he with the bent bones who sits in the farthest chair. Only
he had put some flesh on his bones, and I tell you he looked fearful, a
very fierce man, or rather ghost.”

“Indeed, and did he say anything to you, Japhet?”

“Oh! yes, plenty, O Physician, only I could not understand it all,
because his language was somewhat different to mine, and he spat out his
words as a green log spits out sparks. I think that he asked me,
however, how my miserable people dared to destroy his god, Harmac. I
answered that I was only a servant and did not know, adding that he
should put his questions to you.”

“And what did he say to that, Japhet?”

“I think he said that Harmac would come to Mur and settle his account
with the Abati, and that the foreign men would be wise to fly fast and
far. That’s all I understood; ask me no more, who would not return
into that cave to be made a prince.”

“He’s got hold of what Barung’s envoys told us,” said
Oliver, indifferently, “and no wonder, this place is enough to make
anybody see ghosts. I’ll repeat it to Maqueda; it will amuse her.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” I answered, “for it
isn’t exactly a cheerful yarn, and perhaps she’s afraid of ghosts
too. Also,” and I pointed to the watch that lay on the table beside
the batteries, “it is five minutes to ten.”

Oh! that last five minutes! It seemed as many centuries. Like stone
statues we sat, each of us lost in his own thoughts, though for my part
the power of clear thinking appeared to have left me. Visions of a sort
flowed over my mind without sinking into it, as water flows over
marble. All I could do was fix my eyes on the face of that watch, of
which in the flickering lamp-light the second-hand seemed to my excited
fancy to grow enormous and jump from one side of the room to the other.

Orme began to count aloud. “One, two, three, four,
five—_now_!” and almost simultaneously he touched the knob
first of one battery and next of the other. Before his finger pressed
the left-hand knob I felt the solid rock beneath us surge—no other
word conveys its movement. Then the great stone cross-piece, weighing
several tons, that was set as a transom above the tall door of our
room, dislodged itself, and fell quite gently into the doorway, which
it completely blocked.

Other rocks fell also at a distance, making a great noise, and somehow I
found myself on the ground, my stool had slid away from me. Next
followed a muffled, awful roar, and with it came a blast of wind
blowing where wind never blew before since the beginning of the world,
that with a terrible wailing howled itself to silence in the thousand
recesses of the cave city. As it passed our lamps went out. Lastly,
quite a minute later I should think, there was a thud, as though
something of enormous weight had fallen on the surface of the earth far
above us.

Then all was as it had been; all was darkness and utter quietude.

“Well, that’s over,” said Oliver, in a strained voice which
sounded very small and far away through that thick darkness; “all over
for good or ill. I needn’t have been anxious; the first battery was
strong enough, for I felt the mine spring as I touched the second. I
wonder,” he went on, as though speaking to himself, “what amount of
damage nearly a ton and a half of that awful azo-imide compound has done
to the old sphinx. According to my calculations it ought to have been
enough to break the thing up, if we could have spread the charge more.
But, as it is, I am by no means certain. It may only have driven a hole
in its bulk, especially if there were hollows through which the gases
could run. Well, with luck, we may know more about it later. Strike a
match, Adams, and light those lamps. Why, what’s that? Listen!”

As he spoke, from somewhere came a series of tiny noises, that, though
they were so faint and small, suggested rifles fired at a great
distance. Crack, crack, crack! went the infinitesimal noises.

I groped about, and finding the receiver of the field telephone, set it
to my ear. In an instant all grew plain to me. Guns were being fired
near the other end of the wire, and the transmitter was sending us the
sound of them. Very faintly but with distinctness I could hear
Higgs’s high voice saying, “Look out, Sergeant, there’s another
rush coming!” and Quick answering, “Shoot low, Professor; for the
Lord’s sake shoot low. You are empty, sir. Load up, load up! Here’s
a clip of cartridges. Don’t fire too fast. Ah! that devil got me, but
I’ve got him; he’ll never throw another spear.”

“They are being attacked!” I exclaimed. “Quick is wounded.
Now Maqueda is talking to you. She says, ‘Oliver, come! Joshua’s
men assail me. Oliver, come!’”

Then followed a great sound of shouting answered by more shots, and just
as Orme snatched the receiver from my hand the wire went dead. In vain
he called down it in an agonized voice. As well might he have addressed
the planet Saturn.

“The wire’s cut,” he exclaimed, dashing down the receiver and
seizing the lantern which Japhet had just succeeded in re-lighting;
“come on, there’s murder being done,” and he sprang to the
doorway, only to stagger back again from the great stone with which it
was blocked.

“Good God!” he screamed, “we’re shut in. How can we get
out? How can we get out?” and he began to run round and round the
room, and even to spring at the walls like a frightened cat. Thrice he
sprang, striving to climb to the coping, for the place had no roof,
each time falling back, since it was too high for him to grasp. I
caught him round the middle, and held him by main force, although he
struck at me.

“Be quiet,” I said; “do you want to kill yourself? You will
be no good dead or maimed. Let me think.”

Meanwhile Japhet was acting on his own account, for he, too, had heard
the tiny, ominous sounds given out by the telephone and guessed their
purport. First he ran to the massive transom that blocked the doorway
and pushed. It was useless; not even an elephant could have stirred it.
Then he stepped back, examining it carefully.

“I think it can be climbed, Physician,” he said. “Help me
now,” and he motioned to me to take one end of the heavy table on
which the batteries stood. We dragged it to the doorway, and, seeing
his purpose, Oliver jumped on to it with him. Then at Japhet’s
direction, while I supported the table to prevent its oversetting, Orme
rested his forehead against the stone, making what schoolboys call “a
back,” up which the mountaineer climbed actively until he stood upon
his shoulders, and by stretching himself was able to grasp the end of
the fallen transom. Next, while I held up the lamp to give him light,
he gripped the roughnesses of the hewn stone with his toes, and in a
few moments was upon the coping of the wall, twenty feet or more above
the floor line.

The rest was comparatively easy, for taking off his linen robe, Japhet
knotted it once or twice, and let it down to us. By the help of this
improvised rope, with Orme supporting me beneath, I, too, was dragged
up to the coping of the wall. Then both of us pulled up Oliver, who,
without a word, swung himself over the wall, hanging to Japhet’s
arms, and loosing his hold, dropped to the ground on the farther side.
Next came my turn. It was a long fall, and had not Oliver caught me I
think that I should have hurt myself. As it was, the breath was shaken
out of me. Lastly, Japhet swung himself down, landing lightly as a cat.
The lamps he had already dropped to us, and in another minute they were
all lighted, and we were speeding down the great cavern.

“Be careful,” I cried; “there may be fallen rocks
about.”

As it happened I was right, for at that moment Oliver struck his legs
against one of them and fell, cutting himself a good deal. In a moment
he was up again, but after this our progress grew slow, for hundreds of
tons of stone had been shaken from the roof and blocked the path. Also,
whole buildings of the ancient and underground city had been thrown
down, although these were mostly blown inward by the rush of air. At
length we came to the end of the cave, and halted dismayed, for here,
where the blast of the explosion had been brought to a full stop, the
place seemed to be crowded with rocks which it had rolled before it.

“My God! I believe we are shut in,” exclaimed Oliver in despair.

But Japhet, lantern in hand, was already leaping from block to block,
and presently, from the top of the débris, called to us to come to
him.

“I think there is a road left, though a bad one, lords,” he said,
and pointed to a jagged, well-like hole blown out, as I believe, by the
recoil of the blast. With difficulty and danger, for many of the piled
up stones were loose, we climbed down this place, and at its bottom
squeezed ourselves through a narrow aperture on to the floor of the
cave, praying that the huge door which led to the passage beyond might
not be jammed, since if it were, as we knew well, our small strength
would not avail to move it. Happily, this fear at least proved
groundless, since it opened outward, and the force of the compressed
air had torn it from its massive stone hinges and thrown it shattered
to the ground.

We scrambled over it, and advanced down the passage, our revolvers in
our hands. We reached the audience hall, which was empty and in
darkness. We turned to the left, crossing various chambers, and in the
last of them, through which one of the gates of the palace could be
approached, met with the first signs of the tragedy, for there were
bloodstains on the floor.

Orme pointed to them as he hurried on, and suddenly a man leapt out of
the darkness as a buck leaps from a bush, and ran past us, holding his
hands to his side, where evidently he had some grievous hurt. Now we
entered the corridor leading to the private apartments of the Child of
Kings, and found ourselves walking on the bodies of dead and dying men.
One of the former I observed, as one does notice little things at such
a moment, held in his hand the broken wire of the field telephone. I
presume that he had snatched and severed it in his death pang at the
moment when communication ceased between us and the palace.

We rushed into the little antechamber, in which lights were burning, and
there saw a sight that I for one never shall forget.

In the foreground lay more dead men, all of them wearing the livery of
Prince Joshua. Beyond was Sergeant Quick, seated on a chair. He seemed
to be literally hacked to pieces. An arrow that no one had attempted to
remove was fast in his shoulder; his head, which Maqueda was sponging
with wet cloths—well, I will not describe his wounds.

Leaning against the wall near by stood Higgs, also bleeding, and
apparently quite exhausted. Behind, besides Maqueda herself, were two
or three of her ladies, wringing their hands and weeping. In face of
this terrible spectacle we came to a sudden halt. No word was spoken by
any one, for the power of speech had left us.

The dying Quick opened his eyes, lifted his hand, upon which there was a
ghastly sword-cut, to his forehead, as though to shade them from the
light—ah! how well I recall that pathetic motion—and from beneath
this screen stared at us a while. Then he rose from the chair, touched
his throat to show that he could not speak, as I suppose, saluted Orme,
turned and pointed to Maqueda, and with a triumphant smile sank down
and—died.

Such was the noble end of Sergeant Quick.

To describe what followed is not easy, for the scene was confused. Also
shock and sorrow have blurred its recollection in my mind. I remember
Maqueda and Orme falling into each other’s arms before everybody. I
remember her drawing herself up in that imperial way of hers, and
saying, as she pointed to the body of Quick:

“There lies one who has shown us how to die. This countryman of yours
was a hero, O Oliver, and you should hold his memory in honour, since
he saved me from worse than death.”

“What’s the story?” asked Orme of Higgs.

“A simple one enough,” he answered. “We got here all right,
as we told you over the wire. Then Maqueda talked to you for a long
while until you rang off, saying you wanted to speak to Japhet. After
that, at ten o’clock precisely, we heard the thud of the explosion.
Next, as we were preparing to go out to see what had happened, Joshua
arrived alone, announced that the idol Harmac had been destroyed, and
demanded that the Child of Kings, ‘for State reasons,’ should
accompany him to his own castle. She declined and, as he insisted, I
took it upon myself to kick him out of the place. He retired, and we
saw no more of him, but a few minutes later there came a shower of
arrows down the passage, and after them a rush of men, who called,
‘Death to the Gentiles. Rescue the Rose.’

“So we began to shoot and knocked over a lot of them, but Quick got
that arrow through his shoulder. Three times they came on like that,
and three times we drove them back. At last our cartridges ran low, and
we only had our revolvers left, which we emptied into them. They hung a
moment, but moved forward again, and all seemed up.

“Then Quick went mad. He snatched the sword of a dead Abati and ran at
them roaring like a bull. They hacked and cut at him, but the end of it
was that he drove them right out of the passage, while I followed,
firing past him.

“Well, those who were left of the blackguards bolted, and when they
had gone the Sergeant tumbled down. The women and I carried him back
here, but he never said another word, and at last you turned up. Now
he’s gone, God rest him, for if ever there was a hero in this world
he was christened Samuel Quick!” and, turning aside, the Professor
pushed up the blue spectacles he always wore on to his forehead, and
wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

With grief more bitter than I can describe we lifted up the body of the
gallant Quick and, bearing it into Maqueda’s private apartment,
placed it on her own bed, for she insisted that the man who had died to
protect her should be laid nowhere else. It was strange to see the grim
old soldier, whose face, now that I had washed his wounds, looked calm
and even beautiful, laid out to sleep his last sleep upon the couch of
the Child of Kings. That bed, I remember, was a rich and splendid
thing, made of some black wood inlaid with scrolls of gold, and having
hung about it curtains of white net embroidered with golden stars, such
as Maqueda wore upon her official veil.

There upon the scented pillows and silken coverlet we set our burden
down, the work-worn hands clasped upon the breast in an attitude of
prayer, and one by one bid our farewell to this faithful and upright
man, whose face, as it chanced, we were never to see again, except in
the glass of memory. Well, he had died as he had lived and would have
wished to die—doing his duty and in war. And so we left him. Peace be
to his honoured spirit!

In the blood-stained ante-room, while I dressed and stitched up the
Professor’s wounds, a sword-cut on the head, an arrow-graze along the
face, and a spear-prick in the thigh, none of them happily at all deep
or dangerous, we held a brief council.

“Friends,” said Maqueda, who was leaning on her lover’s arm,
“it is not safe that we should stop here. My uncle’s plot has
failed for the moment, but it was only a small and secret thing. I think
that soon he will return again with a thousand at his back, and
then——”

“What is in your mind?” asked Oliver. “To fly from Mur?”

“How can we fly,” she answered, “when the pass is guarded by
Joshua’s men, and the Fung wait for us without? The Abati hate you, my
friends, and now that you have done your work I think that they will
kill you if they can, whom they bore with only till it was done. Alas!
alas! that I should have brought you to this false and ungrateful
country,” and she began to weep, while we stared at each other,
helpless.

Then Japhet, who all this while had been crouched on the floor, rocking
himself to and fro and mourning in his Eastern fashion for Quick, whom
he had loved, rose, and, coming to the Child of Kings, prostrated
himself before her.

“O Walda Nagasta,” he said, “hear the words of your servant.
Only three miles away, near to the mouth of the pass, are encamped five
hundred men of my own people, the Mountaineers, who hate Prince Joshua
and his following. Fly to them, O Walda Nagasta, for they will cleave
to you and listen to me whom you have made a chief among them.
Afterwards you can act as may seem wisest.”

Maqueda looked at Oliver questioningly.

“I think that is good advice,” he said. “At any rate, we
can’t be worse off among the Mountaineers than we are in this
undefended place. Tell your women to bring cloaks that we can throw
over our heads, and let us go.”

Five minutes later, a forlorn group filled with fears, we had stolen
over the dead and dying in the passage, and made our way to the side
gate of the palace that we found open, and over the bridge that spanned
the moat beyond, which was down. Doubtless Joshua’s ruffians had used
it in their approach and retreat. Disguised in the long cloaks with
monk-like hoods that the Abati wore at night or when the weather was
cold and wet, we hurried across the great square. Here, since we could
not escape them, we mingled with the crowd that was gathered at its
farther end, all of them—men, women and children—chattering like
monkeys in the tree-tops, and pointing to the cliff at the back of the
palace, beneath which, it will be remembered, lay the underground city.

A band of soldiers rode by, thrusting their way through the people, and
in order to avoid them we thought it wise to take refuge in the shadow
of a walk of green-leaved trees which grew close at hand, for we feared
lest they might recognize Oliver by his height. Here we turned and
looked up at the cliff, to discover what it was at which every one was
staring. At that moment the full moon, which had been obscured by a
cloud, broke out, and we saw a spectacle that under the circumstances
was nothing less than terrifying.

The cliff behind the palace rose to a height of about a hundred and
fifty feet, and, as it chanced, just there a portion of it jutted out
in an oblong shape, which the Abati called the Lion Rock, although
personally, heretofore, I had never been able to see in it any great
resemblance to a lion. Now, however, it was different, for on the very
extremity of this rock, staring down at Mur, sat the head and neck of
the huge lion-faced idol of the Fung. Indeed, in that light, with the
promontory stretching away behind it, it looked as though it were the
idol itself, moved from the valley upon the farther side of the
precipice to the top of the cliff above.

“Oh! oh! oh!” groaned Japhet, “the prophecy is
fulfilled—the head of Harmac has come to sleep at Mur.”

“You mean that we have sent him there,” whispered Higgs.
“Don’t be frightened, man; can’t you understand that the
power of our medicine has blown the head off the sphinx high into the
air, and landed it where it sits now?”

“Yes,” I put in, “and what we felt in the cave was the shock
of its fall.”

“I don’t care what brought him,” replied Japhet, who seemed
quite unstrung by all that he had gone through. “All I know is that
the prophecy is fulfilled, and Harmac has come to Mur, and where Harmac
goes the Fung follow.”

“So much the better,” said the irreverent Higgs. “I may be
able to sketch and measure him now.”

But I saw that Maqueda was trembling, for she, too, thought this
occurrence a very bad omen, and even Oliver remained silent, perhaps
because he feared its effect upon the Abati.

Nor was this wonderful since, from the talk around us, clearly that
effect was great. Evidently the people were terrified, like Japhet. We
could hear them foreboding ill, and cursing us Gentiles as wizards, who
had not destroyed the idol of the Fung as we promised, but had only
caused him to fly to Mur.

Here I may mention that as a matter of fact they were right. As we
discovered afterwards, the whole force of the explosion, instead of
shattering the vast bulk of the stone image, had rushed up through the
hollow chambers in its interior until it struck against the solid head.
Lifting this as though it were a toy, the expanding gas had hurled that
mighty mass an unknown distance into the air, to light upon the crest
of the cliffs of Mur, where probably it will remain forever.

“Well,” I said, when we had stared a little while at this
extraordinary phenomenon, “thank God it did not travel farther, and
fall upon the palace.”

“Oh! had it done so,” whispered Maqueda in a tearful voice,
“I think you might have thanked God indeed, for then at least I should
be free from all my troubles. Come, friends, let us be going before we
are discovered.”

CHAPTER XVII.

I FIND MY SON

Our road toward the pass ran through the camping ground of the newly
created Abati army, and what we saw on our journey thither told us more
vividly than any words or reports could do, how utter was the
demoralization of that people. Where should have been sentries were no
sentries; where should have been soldiers were groups of officers
talking with women; where should have been officers were camp followers
drinking.

Through this confusion and excitement we made our way unobserved, or, at
any rate, unquestioned, till at length we came to the regiment of the
Mountaineers, who, for the most part, were goatherds, poor people who
lived upon the slopes of the precipices that enclosed the land of Mur.
These folk, having little to do with their more prosperous brethren of
the plain, were hardy and primitive of nature, and therefore retained
some of the primeval virtues of mankind, such as courage and loyalty.

It was for the first of these reasons, and, indeed, for the second also,
that they had been posted by Joshua at the mouth of the pass, which he
knew well they alone could be trusted to defend in the event of serious
attack. Moreover, it was desirable, from his point of view, to keep
them out of the way while he developed his plans against the person of
the Child of Kings, for whom these simple-minded men had a hereditary
and almost a superstitious reverence.

As soon as we were within the lines of these Mountaineers we found the
difference between them and the rest of the Abati. The other regiments
we had passed unchallenged, but here we were instantly stopped by a
picket. Japhet whispered something into the ear of its officer that
caused him to stare hard at us. Then this officer saluted the veiled
figure of the Child of Kings and led us to where the commander of the
band and his subordinates were seated near a fire sitting together. At
some sign or word that did not reach us the commander, an old fellow
with a long grey beard, rose and said:

“Your pardon, but be pleased to show your faces.”

Maqueda threw back her hood and turned so that the light of the moon
fell full upon her, whereon the old man dropped to his knee, saying:

“Your commands, O Walda Nagasta.”

“Summon your regiment and I will give them,” she answered, and
seated herself on a bench by the fire, we three and Japhet standing
behind her.

The commander issued orders to his captains, and presently the
Mountaineers formed up on three sides of a square above us, to the
number of a little over five hundred men. When all were gathered
Maqueda mounted the bench upon which she had been sitting, threw back
her hood so that every one could see her face in the light of the fire,
and addressed them:

“Men of the mountain-side, this night just after the idol of the Fung
had been destroyed, the Prince Joshua, my uncle, came to me demanding
my surrender to him, whether to kill me or to imprison me in his castle
beyond the end of the lake, for reasons of State as he said, or for
other vile purposes, I do not know.”

At these words a murmur rose from the audience.

“Wait,” said Maqueda, holding up her hand, “there is worse to
come. I told my uncle, Prince Joshua, that he was a traitor and had best
be gone. He went, threatening me and, when I do not know, withdrew the
guards that should be stationed at my palace gates. Now, some rumour of
my danger had reached the foreigners in my service, and two of them, he
who is called Black Windows, whom we rescued from the Fung, and the
soldier named Quick, came to watch over me, while the Lord Orme and the
Doctor Adams stayed in the cave to send out that spark of fire which
should destroy the idol. Nor did they come back without need, for
presently arrived a band of Prince Joshua’s men to take me.

“Then Black Windows and the soldier his companion fought a good fight,
they two holding the narrow passage against many, and slaying a number
of them with their terrible weapons. The end of it was, men of the
mountains, that the warrior Quick, charging down the passage, drove
away those servants of Joshua who remained alive. But in so doing he
was wounded to the death. Yes, that brave man lies dead, having given
his life to save the Child of Kings from the hands of her own people.
Black Windows also was wounded—see the bandages about his head. Then
came the Lord Orme and the Doctor Adams, and with them your brother
Japhet, who had barely escaped with their lives from the cave city, and
knowing that I was no longer safe in the palace, where even my
sleeping-room has been drenched with blood, with them I have fled to you
for succour. Will you not protect me, O men of the mountain-side?”

“Yes, yes,” they answered with a great shout. “Command and we
obey. What shall we do, O Child of Kings?”

Now Maqueda called the officers of the regiment apart and consulted with
them, asking their opinions, one by one. Some of them were in favour of
finding out where Joshua might be, and attacking him at once. “Crush
the snake’s head and its tail will soon cease wriggling!” these
said, and I confess this was a view that in many ways commended itself
to us.

But Maqueda would have none of it.

“What!” she exclaimed, “shall I begin a civil war among my
people when for aught I know the enemy is at our gates?” adding aside
to us, “also, how can these few hundred men, brave though they be,
hope to stand against the thousands under the command of Joshua?”

“What, then, would you do?” asked Orme.

“Return to the palace with these Mountaineers, O Oliver, and by help
of that garrison, hold it against all enemies.”

“Very well,” he replied. “To those who are quite lost one
road is as good as another; they must trust to the stars to guide
them.”

“Quite so,” echoed Higgs; “and the sooner we go the better,
for my leg hurts, and I want a sleep.”

So Maqueda gave her commands to the officers, by whom they were conveyed
to the regiment, which received them with a shout, and instantly began
to strike its camp.

Then it was, coming hot-foot after so much sorrow, loss and doubt, that
there followed the happiest event of all my life. Utterly tired out and
very despondent, I was seated on an arrow-chest awaiting the order to
march, idly watching Oliver and Maqueda talking with great earnestness
at a little distance, and in the intervals trying to prevent poor Higgs
at my side from falling asleep. While I was thus engaged, suddenly I
heard a disturbance, and by the bright moonlight caught sight of a man
being led into the camp in charge of a guard of Abati soldiers, whom
from their dress I knew to belong to a company that just then was
employed in watching the lower gates of the pass.

I took no particular heed of the incident, thinking only that they might
have captured some spy, till a murmur of astonishment, and the general
stir, warned me that something unusual had occurred. So I rose from my
box and strolled towards the man, who now was hidden from me by a group
of Mountaineers. As I advanced this group opened, the men who composed
it bowing to me with a kind of wondering respect that impressed me, I
did not know why.

Then for the first time I saw the prisoner. He was a tall, athletic
young man, dressed in festal robes with a heavy gold chain about his
neck, and I wondered vaguely what such a person should be doing here in
this time of national commotion. He turned his head so that the
moonlight showed his dark eyes, his somewhat oval-shaped face ending in
a peaked black beard, and his finely cut features. In an instant I knew
him.

_It was my son Roderick!_

Next moment, for the first time for very many years, he was in my arms.

The first thing that I remember saying to him was a typically
Anglo-Saxon remark, for however much we live in the East or elsewhere,
we never really shake off our native conventions, and habits of speech.
It was, “How are you, my boy, and how on earth did you come here?”
to which he answered, slowly, it is true, and speaking with a foreign
accent:

“All right, thank you, father. I ran upon my legs.”

By this time Higgs hobbled up, and was greeting my son warmly, for, of
course, they were old friends.

“Thought you were to be married to-night, Roderick?” he said.

“Yes, yes,” he answered, “I am half married according to Fung
custom, which counts not to my soul. Look, this is the dress of
marriage,” and he pointed to his fine embroidered robe and rich
ornaments.

“Then, where’s your wife?” asked Higgs.

“I do not know and I do not care,” he answered, “for I did
not like that wife. Also it is all nothing as I am not quite married to
her. Fung marriage between big people takes two days to finish, and if
not finished does not matter. So she marry some one else if she like,
and I too.”

“What happened then?” I asked.

“Oh, this, father. When we had eaten the marriage feast, but before we
pass before priest, suddenly we hear a thunder and see a pillar of fire
shoot up into sky, and sitting on top of it head of Harmac, which
vanish into heaven and stop there. Then everybody jump up and say:

“‘Magic of white man! Magic of white man! White man kill the god
who sit there from beginning of world, now day of Fung finished
according to prophecy. Run away, people of Fung, run away!’

“Barung the Sultan tear his clothes too, and say—‘Run away,
Fung,’ and my half-wife, she tear _her_ clothes and say nothing,
but run like antelope. So they all run toward east, where great river
is, and leave me alone. Then I get up and run too—toward west, for I
know from Black Windows,” and he pointed to Higgs, “when we shut up
together in belly of god before he let down to lions, what all this
game mean, and therefore not frightened. Well, I run, meeting no one in
night, till I come to pass, run up it, and find guards, to whom I tell
story, so they not kill me, but let me through, and at last I come
here, quite safe, without Fung wife, thank God, and that end of
tale.”

“I am afraid you are wrong there, my boy,” I said, “out of
the frying-pan into the fire, that’s all.”

“Out of frying-pan into fire,” he repeated. “Not understand;
father must remember I only little fellow when Khalifa’s people take
me, and since then speak no English till I meet Black Windows. Only he
give me Bible-book that he have in pocket when he go down to be eat by
lions.” (Here Higgs blushed, for no one ever suspected him, a severe
critic of all religions, of carrying a Bible in his pocket, and
muttered something about “ancient customs of the Hebrews.”)

“Well,” went on Roderick, “read that book ever since, and, as
you see, all my English come back.”

“The question is,” said Higgs, evidently in haste to talk of
something else, “will the Fung come back?”

“Oh! Black Windows, don’t know, can’t say. Think not. Their
prophecy was that Harmac move to Mur, but when they see his head jump
into sky and stop there, they run every man toward the sunrise, and I
think go on running.”

“But Harmac has come to Mur, Roderick,” I said; “at least his
head has fallen on to the cliff that overlooks the city.”

“Oh! my father,” he answered, “then that make great
difference. When Fung find out that head of Harmac has come here, no
doubt they come after him, for head his most holy bit, especially as
they want hang all the Abati whom they not like.”

“Well, let’s hope that they don’t find out anything about
it,” I replied, to change the subject. Then taking Roderick by the
hand I led him to where Maqueda stood a yard or two apart, listening to
our talk, but, of course, understanding very little of it, and
introduced him to her, explaining in a few words the wonderful thing
that had happened. She welcomed him very kindly, and congratulated me
upon my son’s escape. Meanwhile, Roderick had been staring at her
with evident admiration. Now he turned to us and said in his quaint
broken English:

“Walda Nagasta most lovely woman! No wonder King Solomon love her
mother. If Barung’s daughter, my wife, had been like her, think I run
through great river into rising sun with Fung.”

Oliver instantly translated this remark, which made us all laugh,
including Maqueda herself, and very grateful we were to find the
opportunity for a little innocent merriment upon that tragic night.

By this time the regiment was ready to start, and had formed up into
companies. Before the march actually began, however, the officer of the
Abati patrol, in whose charge Roderick had been brought to us, demanded
his surrender that he might deliver his prisoner to the
Commander-in-Chief, Prince Joshua. Of course, this was refused, whereon
the man asked roughly:

“By whose order?”

As it happened, Maqueda, of whose presence he was not aware, heard him,
and acting on some impulse, came forward, and unveiled.

“By mine,” she said. “Know that the Child of Kings rules the
Abati, not the Prince Joshua, and that prisoners taken by her soldiers
are hers, not his. Be gone back to your post!”

The captain stared, saluted, and went with his companions, not to the
pass, indeed, as he had been ordered, but to Joshua. To him he reported
the arrival of the Gentile’s son, and the news he brought that the
nation of the Fung, dismayed by the destruction of their god, were in
full flight from the plains of Harmac, purposing to cross the great
river and to return no more.

This glad tidings spread like wildfire; so fast, indeed, that almost
before we had begun our march, we heard the shouts of exultation with
which it was received by the terrified mob gathered in the great
square. The cloud of terror was suddenly lifted from them. They went
mad in their delight; they lit bonfires, they drank, they feasted, they
embraced each other and boasted of their bravery that had caused the
mighty nation of the Fung to flee away for ever.

Meanwhile, our advance had begun, nor in the midst of the general
jubilation was any particular notice taken of us till we were in the
middle of the square of Mur and within half a mile of the palace, when
we saw by the moonlight that a large body of troops, two or three
thousand of them, were drawn up in front of us, apparently to bar our
way. Still we went on till a number of officers rode up, and addressing
the commander of the regiment of Mountaineers, demanded to know why he
had left his post, and whither he went.

“I go whither I am ordered,” he answered, “for there is one
here greater than I.”

“If you mean the Gentile Orme and his fellows, the command of the
Prince Joshua is that you hand them over to us that they may make
report to him of their doings this night.”

“And the command of the Child of Kings is,” replied the captain of
the Mountaineers, “that I take them with her back to the palace.”

“It has no weight,” said the spokesman insolently, “not being
endorsed by the Council. Surrender the Gentiles, hand over to us the
person of the Child of Kings of whom you have taken possession, and
return to your post till the pleasure of the Prince Joshua be known.”

Then the wrath of Maqueda blazed up.

“Seize those men!” she said, and it was done instantly. “Now,
cut the head from him who dared to demand the surrender of my person and
of my officers, and give it to his companions to take back to the
Prince Joshua as my answer to his message.”

The man heard, and being a coward like all the Abati, flung himself upon
his face before Maqueda, trying to kiss her robe and pleading for
mercy.

“Dog!” she answered, “you were one of those who this very
night dared to attack my chamber. Oh! lie not, I knew your voice and
heard your fellow-traitors call you by your name. Away with him!”

We tried to interfere, but she would not listen, even to Orme.

“Would you plead for your brother’s murderer?” she asked,
alluding to Quick. “I have spoken!”

So they dragged him off behind us, and presently we saw a melancholy
procession returning whence they came, carrying something on a shield.
It reached the opposing ranks, whence there arose a murmur of wrath and
fear.

“March on!” said Maqueda, “and gain the palace.”

So the regiment formed into a square, and, setting Maqueda and ourselves
in the centre of it, advanced again.

Then the fight began. Great numbers of the Abati surrounded us and, as
they did not dare to make a direct attack, commenced shooting arrows,
which killed and wounded a number of men. But the Highlanders also were
archers, and carried stronger bows. The square was halted, the first
ranks kneeling and the second standing behind them. Then, at a given
word, the stiff bows which these hardy people used against the lion and
the buffalo upon their hills were drawn to the ear and loosed again and
again with terrible effect.

On that open place it was almost impossible to miss the mobs of the
Abati who, having no experience of war, were fighting without order.
Nor could the light mail they wore withstand the rush of the heavy
barbed arrows which pierced them through and through. In two minutes
they began to give, in three they were flying back to their main body,
those who were left of them, a huddled rout of men and horses. So the
French must have fled before the terrible longbows of the English at
Crécy and Poitiers, for, in fact, we were taking part in just such a
mediæval battle.

Oliver, who was watching intently, went to Japhet and whispered
something in his ear. He nodded and ran to seek the commander of the
regiment. Presently the result of that whisper became apparent, for the
sides of the hollow square wheeled outward and the rear moved up to
strengthen the centre.

Now the Mountaineers were ranged in a double or triple line, behind
which were only about a dozen soldiers, who marched round Maqueda,
holding their shields aloft in order to protect her from stray arrows.
With these, too, came our four selves, a number of camp-followers and
others, carrying on their shields those of the regiment who were too
badly wounded to walk.

Leaving the dead where they lay, we began to advance, pouring in volleys
of arrows as we went. Twice the Abati tried to charge us, and twice
those dreadful arrows drove them back. Then at the word of command, the
Highlanders slung their bows upon their backs, drew their short swords,
and in their turn charged.

Five minutes afterwards everything was over. Joshua’s soldiers threw
down their arms, and ran or galloped to right and left, save a number
of them who fled through the gates of the palace, which they had
opened, and across the drawbridge into the courtyards within. After
them, or, rather, mixed up with them, followed the Mountaineers,
killing all whom they could find, for they were out of hand and would
not listen to the commands of Maqueda and their officers, that they
should show mercy.

So, just as the dawn broke this strange moonlit battle ended, a small
affair, it is true, for there were only five hundred men engaged upon
our side and three or four thousand on the other, yet one that cost a
great number of lives and was the beginning of all the ruin that
followed.

Well, we were safe for a while, since it was certain, after the lesson
which he had just learned, that Joshua would not attempt to storm the
double walls and fosse of the palace without long preparation. Yet even
now a new trouble awaited us, for by some means, we never discovered
how, that wing of the palace in which Maqueda’s private rooms were
situated suddenly burst into flames.

Personally, I believe that the fire arose through the fact that a lamp
had been left burning near the bed of the Child of Kings upon which was
laid the body of Sergeant Quick. Perhaps a wounded man hidden there
overturned the lamp; perhaps the draught blowing through the open doors
brought the gold-spangled curtains into contact with the wick.

At any rate, the wood-panelled chambers took fire, and had it not
happened that the set of the wind was favourable, the whole palace
might have been consumed. As it was, we succeeded in confining the
conflagration to this particular part of it, which within two hours had
burnt out, leaving nothing standing but the stark, stone walls.

Such was the funeral pyre of Sergeant Quick, a noble one, I thought to
myself, as I watched it burn.

When the fire was so well under control, for we had pulled down the
connecting passage where Higgs and Quick fought their great fight, that
there was no longer any danger of its spreading, and the watches had
been set, at length we got some rest.

Maqueda and two or three of her ladies, one of them, I remember, her old
nurse who had brought her up, for her mother died at her birth, took
possession of some empty rooms, of which there were many in the palace,
while we lay, or rather fell, down in the guest-chambers, where we had
always slept, and never opened our eyes again until the evening.

I remember that I woke thinking that I was the victim of some wonderful
dream of mingled joy and tragedy. Oliver and Higgs were sleeping like
logs, but my son Roderick, still dressed in his bridal robes, had risen
and sat by my bed staring at me, a puzzled look upon his handsome face.

“So you are here,” I said, taking his hand. “I thought I
dreamed.”

“No, Father,” he answered in his odd English, “no dream; all
true. This is a strange world, Father. Look at me! For how many
years—twelve—fourteen, slave of savage peoples for whom I sing,
priest of Fung idol, always near death but never die. Then Sultan Barung
take fancy to me, say I come of white blood and must be his
daughter’s husband. Then your brother Higgs made prisoner with me and
tell me that you hunt me all these years. Then Higgs thrown to lions
and you save him. Then yesterday I married to Sultan’s daughter, whom
I never see before but twice at fast of idol. Then Harmac’s head fly
off to heaven, and all Fung people run away, and I run too, and find
you. Then battle, and many killed, and arrow scratch my neck but not
hurt me,” and he pointed to a graze just over his jugular vein,
“and now we together. Oh! Father, very strange world! I think there
God somewhere who look after us!”

“I think so, too, my boy,” I answered, “and I hope that He
will continue to do so, for I tell you we are in a worse place than ever
you were among the Fung.”

“Oh, don’t mind that, Father,” he answered gaily, for
Roderick is a cheerful soul. “As Fung say, there no house without
door, although plenty people made blind and can’t see it. But we not
blind, or we dead long ago. Find door by and by, but here come man to
talk to you.”

The man proved to be Japhet, who had been sent by the Child of Kings to
summon us, as she had news to tell. So I woke the others, and after I
had dressed the Professor’s flesh wounds, which were stiff and sore,
we joined her where she sat in the gateway tower of the inner wall. She
greeted us rather sadly, asked Oliver how he had slept and Higgs if his
cuts hurt him. Then she turned to my son, and congratulated him upon
his wonderful escape and upon having found a father if he had lost a
wife.

“Truly,” she added, “you are a fortunate man to be so well
loved, O son of Adams. To how many sons are given fathers who for
fourteen long years, abandoning all else, would search for them in
peril of their lives, enduring slavery and blows and starvation and the
desert’s heat and cold for the sake of a long-lost face? Such
faithfulness is that of my forefather David for his brother Jonathan,
and such love it is that passes the love of women. See that you pay it
back to him, and to his memory until the last hour of your life, child
of Adams.”

“I will, indeed, I will, O Walda Nagasta,” answered Roderick, and
throwing his arms about my neck he embraced me before them all. It is
not too much to say that this kiss of filial devotion more than repaid
me for all I had undergone for his beloved sake. For now I knew that I
had not toiled and suffered for one of no worth, as is so often the lot
of true hearts in this bitter world.

Just then some of Maqueda’s ladies brought food, and at her bidding we
breakfasted.

“Be sparing,” she said with a melancholy little laugh, “for I
know not how long our store will last. Listen! I have received a last
offer from my uncle Joshua. An arrow brought it—not a man; I think
that no man would come lest his fate should be that of the traitor of
yesterday,” and she produced a slip of parchment that had been tied
to the shaft of an arrow and, unfolding it, read as follows—

“O Walda Nagasta, deliver up to death the Gentiles who have bewitched
you and led you to shed the blood of so many of your people, and with
them the officers of the Mountaineers, and the rest shall be spared.
You also I will forgive and make my wife. Resist, and all who cling to
you shall be put to the sword, and to yourself I promise nothing.

“Written by order of the Council,

“Joshua, Prince of the Abati.”

“What answer shall I send?” she asked, looking at us curiously.

“Upon my word,” replied Orme, shrugging his shoulders, “if it
were not for those faithful officers I am not sure but that you would be
wise to accept the terms. We are cooped up here, but a few surrounded
by thousands, who, if they dare not assault, still can starve us out,
as this place is not victualled for a siege.”

“You forget one of those terms, O Oliver!” she said slowly,
pointing with her finger to the passage in the letter which stated that
Joshua would make her his wife, “Now do you still counsel
surrender?”

“How can I?” he answered, flushing, and was silent.

“Well, it does not matter what you counsel,” she went on with a
smile, “seeing that I have already sent my answer, also by arrow. See,
here is a copy of it,” and she read—

“To my rebellious People of the Abati:

“Surrender to me Joshua, my uncle, and the members of the Council who
have lifted sword against me, to be dealt with according to the ancient
law, and the rest of you shall go unharmed. Refuse, and I swear to you
that before the night of the new moon has passed there shall be such
woe in Mur as fell upon the city of David when the barbarian standards
were set upon her walls. Such is the counsel that has come to me, the
Child of Solomon, in the watches of the night, and I tell you that it
is true. Do what you will, people of the Abati, or what you must, since
your fate and ours are written. But be sure that in me and the Western
lords lies your only hope.

“Walda Nagasta.”

“What do you mean, O Maqueda,” I asked, “about the counsel
that came to you in the watches of the night?”

“What I say, O Adams,” she answered calmly. “After we parted
at dawn I slept heavily, and in my sleep a dark and royal woman stood
before me whom I knew to be my great ancestress, the beloved of
Solomon. She looked on me sadly, yet as I thought with love. Then she
drew back, as it were, a curtain of thick cloud that hid the future and
revealed to me the young moon riding the sky and beneath it Mur, a
blackened ruin, her streets filled with dead. Yes, and she showed to me
other things, though I may not tell them, which also shall come to
pass, then held her hands over me as if in blessing, and was gone.”

“Old Hebrew prophet business! Very interesting,” I heard Higgs
mutter below his breath, while in my own heart I set the dream down to
excitement and want of food. In fact, only two of us were impressed, my
son very much, and Oliver a little, perhaps because everything Maqueda
said was gospel to him.

“Doubtless all will come to pass as you say, Walda Nagasta,” said
Roderick with conviction. “The day of the Abati is finished.”

“Why do you say that, Son?” I asked.

“Because, Father, among the Fung people from a child I have two
offices, that of Singer to the God and that of Reader of Dreams. Oh! do
not laugh. I can tell you many that have come true as I read them; thus
the dream of Barung which I read to mean that the head of Harmac would
come to Mur, and see, there it sit,” and turning, he pointed through
the doorway of the tower to the grim lion-head of the idol crouched
upon the top of the precipice, watching Mur as a beast of prey watches
the victim upon which it is about to spring. “I know when dreams true
and when dreams false; it my gift, like my voice. I know that this
dream true, that all,” and as he ceased speaking I saw his eyes catch
Maqueda’s, and a very curious glance pass between them.

As for Orme, he only said:

“You Easterns are strange people, and if you believe a thing, Maqueda,
there may be something in it. But you understand that this message of
yours means war to the last, a very unequal war,” and he looked at
the hordes of the Abati gathering on the great square.

“Yes,” she answered quietly, “I understand, but however sore
our straits, and however strange may seem the things that happen, have
no fear of the end of that war, O my friends.”

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE BURNING OF THE PALACE

Orme was right. Maqueda’s defiance did mean war, “an unequal
war.” This was our position. We were shut up in a long range of
buildings, of which one end had been burned, that on account of their
moat and double wall, if defended with any vigour, could only be
stormed by an enemy of great courage and determination, prepared to
face a heavy sacrifice of life. This was a circumstance in our favour,
since the Abati were not courageous, and very much disliked the idea of
being killed, or even injured.

But here our advantage ended. Deducting those whom we had lost on the
previous night, the garrison only amounted to something over four
hundred men, of whom about fifty were wounded, some of them
dangerously. Moreover, ammunition was short, for they had shot away
most of their arrows in the battle of the square, and we had no means
of obtaining more. But, worst of all, the palace was not provisioned
for a siege, and the mountaineers had with them only three days’
rations of sun-dried beef or goat’s flesh, and a hard kind of biscuit
made of Indian corn mixed with barley meal. Thus, as we saw from the
beginning, unless we could manage to secure more food our case must soon
grow hopeless.

There remained yet another danger. Although the palace itself was
stone-built, its gilded domes and ornamental turrets were of timber,
and therefore liable to be fired, as indeed had already happened. The
roof also was of ancient cedar beams, thinly covered with concrete,
while the interior contained an enormous quantity of panels, or rather
boarding, cut from some resinous wood.

The Abati, on the other hand, were amply supplied with every kind of
store and weapon, and could bring a great force to blockade us, though
that force was composed of a timid and undisciplined rabble.

Well, we made the best preparations that we could, although of these I
did not see much, since all that day my time was occupied in attending
to the wounded with the help of my son and a few rough orderlies, whose
experience in doctoring had for the most part been confined to cattle.
A pitiful business it proved without the aid of anæsthetics or a
proper supply of bandages and other appliances. Although my medicine
chest had been furnished upon a liberal scale, it proved totally
inadequate to the casualties of battle. Still I did my best and saved
some lives, though many cases developed gangrene and slipped through my
fingers.

Meanwhile Higgs, who worked nobly, notwithstanding his flesh wounds,
which pained him considerably, and Orme were also doing their best with
the assistance of Japhet and the other officers of the highland
regiment. The palace was thoroughly examined, and all weak places in
its defences were made good. The available force was divided into
watches and stationed to the best advantage. A number of men were set
to work to manufacture arrow shafts from cedar beams, of which there
were plenty in the wooden stables and outhouses that lay at the back of
the main building, and to point and wing the same from a supply of iron
barbs and feathers which fortunately was discovered in one of the
guard-houses. A few horses that remained in a shed were killed and
salted down for food, and so forth.

Also every possible preparation was made to repel attempts to storm,
paving stones being piled up to throw upon the heads of assailants and
fires lighted on the walls to heat pitch and oil and water for the same
purpose.

But, to our disappointment, no direct assault was delivered, such
desperate methods not commending themselves to the Abati. Their plan of
attack was to take cover wherever they could, especially among the
trees of the garden beyond the gates, and thence shoot arrows at any
one who appeared upon the walls, or even fire them in volleys at the
clouds, as the Normans did at Hastings, so that they might fall upon
the heads of persons in the courtyards. Although these cautious tactics
cost us several men, they had the advantage of furnishing us with a
supply of ammunition which we sorely needed. All the spent arrows were
carefully collected and made use of against the enemy, at whom we shot
whenever opportunity offered. We did them but little damage, however,
since they were extremely careful not to expose themselves.

In this fashion three dreary days went past, unrelieved by any incident
except a feint, for it was scarcely more, which the Abati made upon the
second night, apparently with the object of forcing the great gates
under cover of a rainstorm. The advance was discovered at once, and
repelled by two or three volleys of arrows and some rifle shots. Of
these rifles, indeed, whereof we possessed about a score, the Abati
were terribly afraid. Picking out some of the most intelligent soldiers
we taught them how to handle our spare guns, and though, of course,
their shooting was extremely erratic, the result of it, backed up by
our own more accurate marksmanship, was to force the enemy to take
cover. Indeed, after one or two experiences of the effect of bullets,
not a man would show himself in the open within five hundred yards
until night had fallen.

On the third afternoon we held a council to determine what must be done,
since for the last twenty-four hours it had been obvious that things
could not continue as they were. To begin with, we had only sufficient
food left to keep our force from starvation for two more days. Also the
spirits of our soldiers, brave men enough when actual fighting was
concerned, were beginning to flag in this atmosphere of inaction.
Gathered into groups, they talked of their wives and children, and of
what would happen to them at the hands of Joshua; also of their cattle
and crops, saying that doubtless these were being ravaged and their
houses burned. In vain did Maqueda promise them five-fold their loss
when the war was ended, for evidently in their hearts they thought it
could only end one way. Moreover, as they pointed out, she could not
give them back their children if these were killed.

At this melancholy council every possible plan was discussed, to find
that these resolved themselves into two alternatives—to surrender, or
to take the bull by the horns, sally out of the palace at night and
attack Joshua. On the face of it, this latter scheme had the appearance
of suicide, but, in fact, it was not so desperate as it seemed. The
Abati being such cowards it was quite probable that they would run in
their thousands before the onset of a few hundred determined men, and
that, if once victory declared itself for the Child of Kings, the bulk
of her subjects would return to their allegiance. So we settled on it
in preference to surrender, which we knew meant death to ourselves, and
for Maqueda a choice between that last grim solution of her troubles
and a forced marriage.

But there were others to be convinced, namely, the Mountaineers. Japhet,
who had been present at the council, was sent to summon all of them
except those actually on guard, and when they were assembled in the
large inner court Maqueda went out and addressed them.

I do not remember the exact words of her speech, and I made no note of
them, but it was extremely beautiful and touching. She pointed out her
plight, and that we could halt no longer between two opinions, who must
either fight or yield. For herself she said she did not care, since,
although she was young and their ruler, she set no store upon her life,
and would give it up gladly rather than be driven into a marriage which
she considered shameful, and forced to pass beneath the yoke of
traitors.

But for us foreigners she did care. We had come to her country at her
invitation, we had served her nobly, one of us had given his life to
protect her person, and now, in violation of her safeguard and that of
the Council, we were threatened with a dreadful death. Were they, her
subjects, so lacking in honour and hospitality that they would suffer
such a thing with no blow struck to save us?

Now the majority of them shouted “No,” but some were silent, and
one old captain advanced, saluted, and spoke.

“Child of Kings,” he said, “let us search out the truth of
this matter. Is it not because of your love of the foreign soldier,
Orme, that all this trouble has arisen? Is not that love unlawful
according to our law, and are you not solemnly affianced to the Prince
Joshua?”

Maqueda considered awhile before she replied, and said slowly:

“Friend, my heart is my own, therefore upon this point answer your
question for yourself. As regards my uncle Joshua, if there existed any
abiding contract between us it was broken when a few nights ago he sent
his servants armed to attack and drag me off I know not whither. Would
you have me marry a traitor and a coward? I have spoken.”

“No,” again shouted the majority of the soldiers.

Then in the silence that followed the old captain replied, with a
canniness that was almost Scotch:

“On the point raised by you, O Child of Kings, I give no opinion,
since you, being but a woman, if a high-born one, would not listen to
me if I did, but will doubtless follow that heart of yours of which you
speak to whatever end is appointed. Settle the matter with your
betrothed Joshua as you will. But we also have a matter to settle with
Joshua, who is a toad with a long tongue that if he seems slow yet
never misses his fly. We took up your cause, and have killed a great
number of his people, as he has killed some of ours. This he will not
forget. Therefore it seems to me that it will be wise that we should
make what we can of the nest that we have built, since it is better to
die in battle than on the gallows. For this reason, then, since we can
stay here no longer, for my part I am willing to go out and fight for
you this night, although Joshua’s people being so many and ours so
few, I shall think myself fortunate if I live to see another sun.”

This hard and reasoned speech seemed to appeal to the dissentients, with
the result that they withdrew their opposition, and it was agreed that
we should attempt to break our way through the besieging army about one
hour before the dawn, when they would be heavily asleep and most liable
to panic.

Yet, as it chanced, that sortie was destined never to take place, which
perhaps was fortunate for us, since I am convinced that it would have
ended in failure. It is true that we might have forced our way through
Joshua’s army, but afterwards those of us who remained alive would
have been surrounded, starved out, and, when our strength and
ammunition were exhausted taken prisoners or cut down.

However that may be, events shaped a different course for us, perhaps
because the Abati got wind of our intention and had no stomach for a
pitched battle with desperate men. As it happened, this night from
sunset on to moonrise was one of a darkness so remarkable that it was
impossible to see anything even a foot away, also a wind blowing from
the east made sounds very inaudible. Only a few of our men were on
guard, since it was necessary that they should be rested till it was
time for them to prepare for their great effort. Also, we had little
fear of any direct attack.

About eight o’clock, however, my son Roderick, one of the watch
stationed in the gateway towers, who was gifted with very quick ears,
reported that he thought he heard people moving on the farther side of
the massive wooden doors beyond the moat. Accordingly some of us went
to listen, but could distinguish nothing, and concluded therefore that
he was mistaken. So we retired to our posts and waited patiently for
the moon to rise. But as it chanced no moon rose, or rather we could
not see her, because the sky was completely covered by thick banks of
thunder-clouds presaging the break-up of a period of great heat. These,
as the wind had now died down, remained quite stationary upon the face
of the sky, blotting out all light.

Perhaps another hour had passed when, chancing to look behind me, I saw
what I thought was a meteor falling from the crest of the cliff against
which the palace was built, that cliff whither the head of the idol
Harmac had been carried by the force of the explosion.

“Look at that shooting star,” I said to Oliver, who was at my side.

“It is not a shooting star, it is fire,” he replied in a startled
voice, and, as he spoke, other streaks of light, scores of them, began
to rain down from the brow of the cliff and land upon the wooden
buildings to the rear of the palace that were dry as tinder with the
drought, and, what was worse, upon the gilded timber domes of the roof.

“Don’t you understand the game?” he went on. “They have
tied firebrands to arrows and spears to burn us out. Sound the alarm.
Sound the alarm!”

It was done, and presently the great range of buildings began to hum
like a hive of bees. The soldiers still half asleep, rushed hither and
thither shouting. The officers also, developing the characteristic
excitement of the Abati race in this hour of panic, yelled and screamed
at them, beating them with their fists and swords till some kind of
control was established.

Then attempts were made to extinguish the flames, which by this time had
got hold in half-a-dozen places. From the beginning the effort was
absolutely hopeless. It is true that there was plenty of water in the
moat, which was fed by a perennial stream that flowed down the face of
the precipice behind; but pumping engines of any sort were quite
unknown to the Abati, who, if a building took fire, just let it burn,
contenting themselves with safeguarding those in its neighbourhood.
Moreover, even in the palace, such articles as pails, jugs, or other
vessels were comparatively few and far between.

Those that we could find, however, were filled with water and passed by
lines of men to the places in most danger—that is, practically
everywhere—while other men tried to cut off the advance of the flames
by pulling down portions of the building.

But as fast as one fire was extinguished others broke out, for the rain
of burning darts and of lighted pots or lamps filled with oil descended
continuously from the cliff above. A strange and terrible sight it was
to see them flashing down through the darkness, like the fiery darts
that shall destroy the wicked in the day of Armageddon.

Still, we toiled on despairingly. On the roof we four white men, and
some soldiers under the command of Japhet, were pouring water on to
several of the gilded domes, which now were well alight. Close by,
wrapped in a dark cloak, and attended by some of her ladies, stood
Maqueda. She was quite calm, although sundry burning arrows and spears,
falling with great force from the cliff above, struck the flat roofs
close to where she stood.

Her ladies, however, were not calm. They wept and wrung their hands,
while one of them went into violent hysterics in her very natural
terror. Maqueda turned and bade them descend to the courtyard of the
gateway, where she said she would join them presently. They rushed off,
rejoicing to escape the sight of those burning arrows, one of which had
just pierced a man and set his clothes and hair on fire, causing him to
leap from the roof in his madness.

At Oliver’s request I ran to the Child of Kings to lead her to some
safer place, if it could be found. But she would not stir.

“Let me be, O Adams,” she said. “If I am to die, I will die
here. But I do not think that is fated,” and with her foot she kicked
aside a burning spear that had struck the cement roof, and, rebounding,
fallen quite close to her. “If my people will not fight,” she went
on, with bitter sarcasm, “at least they understand the other arts of
war, for this trick of theirs is clever. They are cruel also. Listen to
them mocking us in the square. They ask whether we will roast alive or
come out and have our throats cut. Oh!” she went on, clenching her
hands, “oh! that I should have been born the head of such an accursed
race. Let Sheol take them all, for in the day of their tribulation no
finger will I lift to save them.”

She was silent for a moment, and down below, near the gateway, I heard
some brute screaming, “Pretty pigeons! Pretty pigeons, are your
feathers singeing? Come then into our pie, pretty pigeons, pretty
pigeons!” followed by shouts of ribald laughter.

But it chanced it was this hound himself who went into the “pie.”
Presently, when the flames were brighter, I saw him, in the midst of a
crowd of his admirers, singing his foul song, another verse of it about
Maqueda, which I will not repeat, and by good fortune managed to put a
bullet through his head. It was not a bad shot considering the light
and circumstances, and the only one I fired that night. I trust also
that it will be the last I shall ever fire at any human being.

Just as I was about to leave Maqueda and return with her message to
Orme, to the effect that she would not move, the final catastrophe
occurred. Amongst the stables was a large shed filled with dry fodder
for the palace horses and camels. Suddenly this burst into a mass of
flame that spread in all directions. Then came the last, hideous panic.
From every part of the palace, the Mountaineers, men and officers
together, rushed down to the gateway. In a minute, with the single
exception of Japhet, we four and Maqueda were left alone upon the roof,
where we stood overwhelmed, not knowing what to do. We heard the
drawbridge fall; we heard the great doors burst open beneath the
pressure of a mob of men; we heard a coarse voice—I thought it was
that of Joshua—yell:

“Kill whom you will, my children, but death to him who harms the Child
of Kings. She is my spoil!”

Then followed terrible sights and sounds. The cunning Abati had
stretched ropes outside the doors; it was the noise they made at this
work which had reached Roderick’s ears earlier during the darkness.
The terrified soldiers, flying from the fire, stumbled and fell over
these ropes, nor could they rise again because of those who pressed
behind. What happened to them all I am sure I do not know, but
doubtless many were crushed to death and many more killed by Joshua’s
men. I trust, however, that some of them escaped, since, compared to
the rest of the Abati, they were as lions are to cats, although, like
all their race, they lacked the stamina to fight an uphill game.

It was at the commencement of this terrific scene that I shot the
foul-mouthed singer.

“You shouldn’t have done that, old fellow,” screamed Higgs in
his high voice, striving to make himself heard above the tumult, “as
it will show those swine where we are.”

“I don’t think they will look for us here, anyway,” I
answered.

Then we watched awhile in silence.

“Come,” said Orme at length, taking Maqueda by the hand.

“Where are you going, O Oliver?” she asked, hanging back.
“Sooner will I burn than yield to Joshua.”

“I am going to the cave city,” he answered; “we have nowhere
else to go, and little time to lose. Four men with rifles can hold that
place against a thousand. Come.”

“I obey,” she answered, bowing her head.

We went down the stairway that led from the roof on which the
inhabitants of the palace were accustomed to spend much of their day,
and even to sleep in hot weather, as is common in the East. Another
minute and we should have been too late. The fire from one of the domes
had spread to the upper story, and was already appearing in little
tongues of flame mingled with jets of black smoke through cracks in the
crumbling partition wall.

As a matter of fact this wall fell in just as my son Roderick, the last
of us, was passing down the stairs. With the curiosity of youth he had
lingered for a few moments to watch the sad scene below, a delay which
nearly cost him his life.

On the ground floor we found ourselves out of immediate danger, since
the fire was attacking this part of the palace from above and burning
downward. We had even time to go to our respective sleeping-places and
collect such of our possessions and valuables as we were able to carry.
Fortunately, among other things, these included all our note-books,
which to-day are of priceless value. Laden with these articles, we met
again in the audience hall, which, although it was very hot, seemed as
it had always been, a huge, empty place, whereof the roof, painted with
stars, was supported upon thick cedar columns, each of them hewn from a
single tree.

Passing down that splendid apartment, which an hour later had ceased to
exist, lamps in hand, for these we had found time to fetch and light,
we reached the mouth of the passage that led to the underground city
without meeting a single human being.

Had the Abati been a different race they could perfectly well have
dashed in and made us prisoners, for the drawbridge was still intact.
But their cowardice was our salvation, for they feared lest they should
be trapped by the fire. So I think at least, but justice compels me to
add that, on the spur of the moment, they may have found it impossible
to clear the gateways of the mass of fallen or dead soldiers over which
it would have been difficult to climb.

Such, at any rate, was the explanation that we heard afterwards.

We reached the mouth of the vast cave in perfect safety, and clambered
through the little orifice which was left between the rocks rolled
thither by the force of the explosion, or shaken down from the roof.
This hole, for it was nothing more, we proceeded to stop with a few
stones in such a fashion that it could not be forced without much toil
and considerable noise, only leaving one little tortuous channel
through which, if necessary, a man could creep.

The labour of rock-carrying, in which even Maqueda shared, occupied our
minds for awhile, and induced a kind of fictitious cheerfulness. But
when it was done, and the chilly silence of that enormous cave, so
striking in comparison with the roar of the flames and the hideous
human tumult which we had left without, fell upon us like sudden cold
and blinding night upon a wanderer in windy, sunlit mountains, all our
excitement perished. In a flash, we understood our terrible position,
we who had but escaped from the red fire to perish slowly in the black
darkness.

Still we strove to keep our spirits as best we could. Leaving Higgs to
watch the blocked passage, a somewhat superfluous task, since the fire
without was our best watchman, the rest of us threaded our way up the
cave, following the telephone wire which poor Quick had laid on the
night of the blowing-up of the god Harmac, till we came to what had
been our headquarters during the digging of the mine. Into the room
which was Oliver’s, whence we had escaped with so much difficulty
after that event, we could not enter because of the transom that
blocked the doorway. Still, there were plenty of others at hand in the
old temple, although they were foul with the refuse of the bats that
wheeled about us in thousands, for these creatures evidently had some
unknown access to the open air. One of these rooms had served as our
store-chamber, and after a few rough preparations we assigned it to
Maqueda.

“Friends,” she said, as she surveyed its darksome entrance,
“it looks like the door of a tomb. Well, in the tomb there is rest,
and rest I must have. Leave me to sleep, who, were it not for you, O
Oliver, would pray that I might never wake again.

“Man,” she added passionately, before us all, for now in face of
the last peril every false shame and wish to conceal the truth had left
her; “man, why were you born to bring woe upon my head and joy to my
heart? Well, well, the joy outweighs the woe, and even if the angel who
led you hither is named Azrael, still I shall bless him who has
revealed to me my soul. Yet for you I weep, and if only your life could
be spared to fulfil itself in happiness in the land that bore you, oh!
for you I would gladly die.”

Now Oliver, who seemed deeply moved, stepped to her and began to whisper
into her ear, evidently making some proposal of which I think I can
guess the nature. She listened to him, smiling sadly, and made a motion
with her hand as though to thrust him away.

“Not so,” she said, “it is nobly offered, but did I accept,
through whatever universes I may wander, those who came after me would
know me by my trail of blood, the blood of him who loved me. Perhaps,
too, by that crime I should be separated from you for ever. Moreover, I
tell you that though all seems black as this thick darkness, I believe
that things will yet end well for you and me—in this world or
another.”

Then she was gone, leaving Orme staring after her like a man in a
trance.

“I daresay they will,” remarked Higgs _sotto voce_ to me,
“and that’s first-rate so far as they are concerned. But what I
should jolly well like to know is how they are going to end for _us_ who
haven’t got a charming lady to see us across the Styx.”

“You needn’t puzzle your brain over that,” I answered
gloomily, “for I think there will soon be a few more skeletons in this
beastly cave, that’s all. Don’t you see that those Abati will
believe we are burned in the palace?”

CHAPTER XIX.

STARVATION

I was right. The Abati did think that we had been burned. It never
occurred to them that we might have escaped to the underground city. So
at least I judged from the fact that they made no attempt to seek us
there until they learned the truth in the fashion that I am about to
describe. If anything, this safety from our enemies added to the trials
of those hideous days and nights. Had there been assaults to repel and
the excitement of striving against overwhelming odds, at any rate we
should have found occupation for our minds and remaining energies.

But there were none. By turns we listened at the mouth of the passage
for the echo of footsteps that never came. Nothing came to break a
silence so intense that at last our ears, craving for sound, magnified
the soft flitter of the bats into a noise as of eagle’s wings, till
at last we spoke in whispers, because the full voice of man seemed to
affront the solemn quietude, seemed intolerable to our nerves.

Yet for the first day or two we found occupation of a sort. Of course
our first need was to secure a supply of food, of which we had only a
little originally laid up for our use in the chambers of the old
temple, tinned meats that we had brought from London and so forth, now
nearly all consumed. We remembered that Maqueda had told us of corn
from her estates which was stored annually in pits to provide against
the possibility of a siege of Mur, and asked her where it was.

She led us to a place where round stone covers with rings attached to
them were let into the floor of the cave, not unlike those which stop
the coal-shoots in a town pavement, only larger. With great difficulty
we prised one of these up; to me it did not seem to have been moved
since the ancient kings ruled in Mur and, after leaving it open for a
long while for the air within to purify, lowered Roderick by a rope we
had to report its contents. Next moment we heard him saying: “Want to
come up, please. This place is not pleasant.”

We pulled him out and asked what he had found.

“Nothing good to eat,” he answered, “only plenty of dead
bones and one rat that ran up my leg.”

We tried the next two pits with the same result—they were full of
human bones. Then we cross-examined Maqueda, who, after reflection,
informed us that she now remembered that about five generations before
a great plague had fallen on Mur, which reduced its population by
one-half. She had heard, also, that those stricken with the plague were
driven into the underground city in order that they might not infect
the others, and supposed that the bones we saw were their remains. This
information caused us to close up those pits again in a great hurry,
though really it did not matter whether we caught the plague or no.

Still, as she was sure that corn was buried somewhere, we went to
another group of pits in a distant chamber, and opened the first one.
This time our search was rewarded, to the extent that we found at the
bottom of it some mouldering dust that years ago had been grain. The
other pits, two of which had been sealed up within three years as the
date upon the wax showed, were quite empty.

Then Maqueda understood what had happened.

“Surely the Abati are a people of rogues,” she said. “See
now, the officers appointed to store away my corn which I gave them have
stolen it! Oh! may they live to lack bread even more bitterly than we
do to-day.”

We went back to our sleeping-place in silence. Well might we be silent,
for of food we had only enough left for a single scanty meal. Water
there was in plenty, but no food. When we had recovered a little from
our horrible disappointment we consulted together.

“If we could get through the mine tunnel,” said Oliver, “we
might escape into the den of lions, which were probably all destroyed by
the explosion, and so out into the open country.”

“The Fung would take us there,” suggested Higgs.

“No, no,” broke in Roderick, “Fung all gone, or if they do,
anything better than this black hole, yes, even my wife.”

“Let us look,” I said, and we started.

When we reached the passage that led from the city to the Tomb of Kings,
it was to find that the wall at the end of it had been blown bodily
back into the parent cave, leaving an opening through which we could
walk side by side. Of course the contents of the tomb itself were
scattered. In all directions lay bones, objects of gold and other
metals, or overturned thrones. The roof and walls alone remained as
they had been.

“What vandalism!” exclaimed Higgs, indignant even in his misery.
“Why wouldn’t you let me move the things when I wanted to,
Orme?”

“Because they would have thought that we were stealing them, old
fellow. Also those Mountaineers were superstitious, and I did not want
them to desert. But what does it matter, anyway? If you had, they would
have been burned in the palace.”

By this time we had reached that end of the vast tomb where the
hunchbacked king used to sit, and saw at once that our quest was vain.
The tunnel which we had dug beyond was utterly choked with masses of
fallen rock that we could never hope to move, even with the aid of
explosives, of which we had none left.

So we returned, our last hope gone.

Also another trouble stared us in the face; our supply of the crude
mineral oil which the Abati used for lighting purposes was beginning to
run low. Measurement of what remained of the store laid up for our use
while the mine was being made, revealed the fact that there was only
enough left to supply four lamps for about three days and nights: one
for Maqueda, one for ourselves, one for the watchman near the tunnel
mouth, and one for general purposes.

This general-purpose lamp, as a matter of fact, was mostly made use of
by Higgs. Truly, he furnished a striking instance of the ruling passion
strong in death. All through those days of starvation and utter misery,
until he grew too weak and the oil gave out, he trudged backward and
forward between the old temple and the Tomb of Kings carrying a large
basket on his arm. Going out with this basket empty, he would bring it
back filled with gold cups and other precious objects that he had
collected from among the bones and scattered rubbish in the Tomb. These
objects he laboriously catalogued in his pocket-book at night, and
afterwards packed away in empty cases that had contained our supplies
of explosive and other goods, carefully nailing them down when filled.

“What on earth are you doing that for, Higgs?” I asked petulantly,
as he finished off another case, I think it was his twentieth.

“I don’t know, Doctor,” he answered in a thin voice, for like
the rest of us he was growing feeble on a water-diet. “I suppose it
amuses me to think how jolly it would be to open all these boxes in my
rooms in London after a first-rate dinner of fried sole and steak cut
thick,” and he smacked his poor, hungry lips. “Yes, yes,” he went
on, “to take them out one by one and show them to —— and
——,” and he mentioned by name officials of sundry great
museums with whom he was at war, “and see them tear their hair with
rage and jealousy, while they wondered in their hearts if they could
not manage to seize the lot for the Crown as treasure-trove, or do me
out of them somehow,” and he laughed a little in his old, pleasant
fashion.

“Of course I never shall,” he added sadly, “but perhaps one
day some other fellow will find them here and get them to Europe, and if
he is a decent chap, publish my notes and descriptions, of which I have
put a duplicate in each box, and so make my name immortal. Well, I’m
off again. There are four more cases to fill before the oil gives out,
and I must get that great gold head into one of them, though it is an
awful job to carry it far at a time. Doctor, what disease is it that
makes your legs suddenly give way beneath you, so that you find
yourself sitting in a heap on the floor without knowing how you came
there? You don’t know? Well, no more do I, but I’ve got it bad. I
tell you I’m downright sore behind from continual and unexpected
contact with the rock.”

Poor old Higgs! I did not like to tell him that his disease was
starvation.

Well, he went on with his fetching and carrying and cataloguing and
packing. I remember that the last load he brought in was the golden
head he had spoken of, the wonderful likeness of some prehistoric king
which has since excited so much interest throughout the world. The
thing being too heavy for him to carry in his weakened state, for it is
much over life-size, he was obliged to roll it before him, which
accounts for the present somewhat damaged condition of the nose and
semi-Egyptian diadem.

Never shall I forget the sight of the Professor as he appeared out of
the darkness, shuffling along upon his knees where his garments were
worn into holes, and by the feeble light of the lamp that he moved from
time to time, painfully pushing the great yellow object forward, only a
foot or two at each push.

“Here it is at last,” he gasped triumphantly, whilst we watched him
with indifferent eyes. “Japhet, help me to wrap it up in the mat and
lift it into the box. No, no, you donkey—face upward—so. Never mind
the corners, I’ll fill them with ring-money and other trifles,” and
out of his wide pockets he emptied a golden shower, amongst which he
sifted handfuls of dust from the floor and anything else he could find
to serve as packing, finally covering all with a goat’s-hair blanket
which he took from his bed.

Then very slowly he found the lid of the box and nailed it down, resting
between every few strokes of the hammer whilst we watched him in our
intent, but idle, fashion, wondering at the strange form of his
madness.

At length the last nail was driven, and seated on the box he put his
hand into an inner pocket to find his note-book, then incontinently
fainted. I struggled to my feet and sprinkled water over his face till
he revived and rolled on to the floor, where presently he sank into
sleep or torpor. As he did so the first lamp gave out.

“Light it, Japhet,” said Maqueda, “it is dark in this
place.”

“O Child of Kings,” answered the man, “I would obey if I
could, but there is no more oil.”

Half-an-hour later the second lamp went out. By the light that remained
we made such arrangements as we could, knowing that soon darkness would
be on us. They were few and simple: the fetching of a jar or two of
water, the placing of arms and ammunition to our hands, and the
spreading out of some blankets on which to lie down side by side upon
what I for one believed would be our bed of death.

While we were thus engaged, Japhet crawled into our circle from the
outer gloom. Suddenly I saw his haggard face appear, looking like that
of a spirit rising from the grave.

“My lamp is burned out,” he moaned; “it began to fail whilst
I was on watch at the tunnel mouth, and before I was half-way here it
died altogether. Had it not been for the wire of the
‘thing-that-speaks’ which guided me, I could never have reached
you. I should have been lost in the darkness of the city and perished
alone among the ghosts.”

“Well, you are here now,” said Oliver. “Have you anything to
report?”

“Nothing, lord, or at least very little. I moved some of the small
rocks that we piled up, and crept down the hole till I came to a place
where the blessed light of day fell upon me, only one little ray of it,
but still the light of day. I think that something has fallen upon the
tunnel and broken it, perhaps one of the outer walls of the palace. At
least I looked through a crack and saw everywhere ruins—ruins that
still smoke. From among them I heard the voices of men shouting to each
other.

“One of them called to his companion that it was strange, if the
Gentiles and the Child of Kings had perished in the fire, that they had
not found their bones which would be known by the guns they carried.
His friend answered that it was strange indeed, but being magicians,
perhaps they had hidden away somewhere. For his part he hoped so, as
then sooner or later they would be found and put to death slowly, as
they deserved, who had led astray the Child of Kings and brought so
many of the heaven-descended Abati to their death. Then fearing lest
they should find and kill me, for they drew near as I could tell by
their voices, I crept back again, and that is all my story.”

We said nothing; there seemed to be nothing to say, but sat in our sad
circle and watched the dying lamp. When it began to flicker, leaping up
and down like a thing alive, a sudden panic seized poor Japhet.

“O Walda Nagasta,” he cried, throwing himself at her feet,
“you have called me a brave man, but I am only brave where the sun and
the stars shine. Here in the dark amongst so many angry spirits, and
with hunger gnawing at my bowels, I am a great coward; Joshua himself
is not such a coward as I. Let us go out into the light while there is
yet time. Let us give ourselves up to the Prince. Perhaps he will be
merciful and spare our lives, or at least he will spare yours, and if
we die, it will be with the sun shining on us.”

But Maqueda only shook her head, whereon he turned to Orme and went on:

“Lord, would you have the blood of the Child of Kings upon your hands?
Is it thus that you repay her for her love? Lead her forth. No harm
will come to her who otherwise must perish here in misery.”

“You hear what the man says, Maqueda?” said Orme heavily.
“There is some truth in it. It really does not matter to us whether we
die in the power of the Abati or here of starvation; in fact, I think
that we should prefer the former end, and doubtless no hand will be
laid on you. Will you go?”

“Nay,” she answered passionately. “A hand would be laid on
me, the hand of Joshua, and rather than that he should touch me I will
die a hundred deaths. Let fate take its course, for as I have told you,
I believe that then it will open to us some gate we cannot see. And if
I believe in vain, why there is another gate which we can pass
together, O Oliver, and beyond that gate lies peace. Bid the man be
silent, or drive him away. Let him trouble me no more.”

The lamp flame sank low. It flickered, once, twice, thrice, each time
showing the pale, drawn faces of us six seated about it, like wizards
making an incantation, like corpses in a tomb.

Then it went out.

How long were we in that place after this? At least three whole days and
nights, I believe, if not more, but of course we soon lost all count of
time. At first we suffered agonies from famine, which we strove in vain
to assuage with great draughts of water. No doubt these kept us alive,
but even Higgs, who it may be remembered was a teetotaller, afterwards
confessed to me that he has loathed the sight and taste of water ever
since. Indeed he now drinks beer and wine like other people. It was
torture; we could have eaten anything. In fact the Professor did manage
to catch and eat a bat that got entangled in his red hair. He offered
me a bite of it, I remember, and was most grateful when I declined.

The worst of it was also that we had a little food, a few hard ship’s
biscuits, which we had saved up for a purpose, namely, to feed Maqueda.
This was how we managed it. At certain intervals I would announce that
it was time to eat, and hand Maqueda her biscuit. Then we would all
pretend to eat also, saying how much we felt refreshed by the food and
how we longed for more, smacking our lips and biting on a piece of wood
so that she could not help hearing us.

This piteous farce went on for forty-eight hours or more until at last
the wretched Japhet, who was quite demoralized and in no mood for
acting, betrayed us, exactly how I cannot remember. After this Maqueda
would touch nothing more, which did not greatly matter as there was
only one biscuit left. I offered it to her, whereon she thanked me and
all of us for our courtesy toward a woman, took the biscuit, and gave
it to Japhet, who ate it like a wolf.

It was some time after this incident that we discovered Japhet to be
missing; at least we could no longer touch him, nor did he answer when
we called. Therefore, we concluded that he had crept away to die and, I
am sorry to say, thought little more about it for, after all, what he
suffered, or had suffered, we suffered also.

I recall that before we were overtaken by the last sleep, a strange fit
came upon us. Our pangs passed away, much as the pain does when
mortification follows a wound, and with them that horrible craving for
nutriment. We grew cheerful and talked a great deal. Thus Roderick gave
me the entire history of the Fung people and of his life among them and
other savage tribes. Further, he explained every secret detail of their
idol worship to Higgs, who was enormously interested, and tried to make
some notes by the aid of our few remaining matches. When even that
subject was exhausted, he sang to us in his beautiful voice—English
hymns and Arab songs. Oliver and Maqueda also chatted together quite
gaily, for I heard them laughing, and gathered that he was engaged in
trying to teach her English.

The last thing that I recollect is the scene as it was revealed by the
momentary light of one of the last matches. Maqueda sat by Oliver. His
arm was about her waist, her head rested upon his shoulder, her long
hair flowed loose, her large and tender eyes stared from her white, wan
face up toward his face, which was almost that of a mummy.

Then on the other side stood my son, supporting himself against the wall
of the room, and beyond him Higgs, a shadow of his former self, feebly
waving a pencil in the air and trying, apparently, to write a note upon
his Panama straw hat, which he held in his left hand, as I suppose,
imagining it to be his pocket-book. The incongruity of that sun-hat in
a place where no sun had ever come made me laugh, and as the match went
out I regretted that I had forgotten to look at his face to ascertain
whether he was still wearing his smoked spectacles.

“What is the use of a straw hat and smoked spectacles in
kingdom-come?” I kept repeating to myself, while Roderick, whose arm I
knew was about me, seemed to answer:

“The Fung wizards say that the sphinx Harmac once wore a hat, but, my
father, I do not know if he had spectacles.”

Then a sensation as of being whirled round and round in some vast
machine, down the sloping sides of which I sank at last into a vortex
of utter blackness, whereof I knew the name was death.

Dimly, very dimly, I became aware that I was being carried. I heard
voices in my ears, but what they said I could not understand. Then a
feeling of light struck upon my eyeballs which gave me great pain.
Agony ran all through me as it does through the limbs of one who is
being brought back from death by drowning. After this something warm
was poured down my throat, and I went to sleep.

When I awoke again it was to find myself in a large room that I did not
know. I was lying on a bed, and by the light of sunrise which streamed
through the window-places I saw the three others, my son Roderick, Orme
and Higgs lying on the other beds, but they were still asleep.

Abati servants entered the room bringing food, a kind of rough soup with
pieces of meat in it of which they gave me a portion in a wooden bowl
that I devoured greedily. Also they shook my companions until they
awoke and almost automatically ate up the contents of similar bowls,
after which they went to sleep again, as I did, thanking heaven that we
were all still alive.

Every few hours I had a vision of these men entering with the bowls of
soup or porridge, until at last life and reason came back to me in
earnest, and I saw Higgs sitting up on the bed opposite and staring at
me.

“I say, old fellow,” he said, “are we alive, or is this
Hades?”

“Can’t be Hades,” I answered, “because there are Abati
here.”

“Quite right,” he replied. “If the Abati go anywhere,
it’s to hell, where they haven’t whitewashed walls and four-post
beds. Oliver, wake up. We are out of that cave, anyway.”

Orme raised himself on his hand and stared at us.

“Where’s Maqueda?” he asked, a question to which of course,
we could give no answer, till presently Roderick woke also and said:

“I remember something. They carried us all out of the cave; Japhet was
with them. They took the Child of Kings one way and us another, that is
all I know.”

Shortly afterwards the Abati servants arrived, bearing food more solid
than the soup, and with them came one of their doctors, not that old
idiot of a court physician, who examined us, and announced that we
should all recover, a fact which we knew already. We asked many
questions of him and the servants, but could get no answer, for
evidently they were sworn to silence. However, we persuaded them to
bring us water to wash in. It came, and with it a polished piece of
metal, such as the Abati use for a looking-glass, in which we saw our
faces, the terrible, wasted faces of those who have gone within a
hair’s breadth of death by starvation in the dark.

Yet although our gaolers would say nothing, something in their aspect
told us that we were in sore peril of our lives. They looked at us
hungrily, as a terrier looks at rats in a wire cage of which the door
will presently be opened. Moreover, Roderick, who, as I think I have
said, has very quick ears, overheard one of the attendants whisper to
another:

“When does our service on these hounds of Gentiles come to an end?”
to which his fellow answered, “The Council has not yet decided, but I
think to-morrow or the next day, if they are strong enough. It will be a
great show.”

Also that evening, about sunset, we heard a mob shouting outside the
barrack in which we were imprisoned, for that was its real use, “Give
us the Gentiles! Give us the Gentiles! We are tired of waiting,”
until at length some soldiers drove them away.

Well, we talked the thing over, only to conclude that there was nothing
to be done. We had no friend in the place except Maqueda, and she, it
appeared, was a prisoner like ourselves, and therefore could not
communicate with us. Nor could we see the slightest possibility of
escape.

“Out of the frying-pan into the fire,” remarked Higgs gloomily.
“I wish now that they had let us die in the cave. It would have been
better than being baited to death by a mob of Abati.”

“Yes,” answered Oliver with a sigh, for he was thinking of Maqueda,
“but that’s why they saved us, the vindictive beasts, to kill us
for what they are pleased to call high treason.”

“High treason!” exclaimed Higgs. “I hope to goodness their
punishment for the offence is not that of mediæval England; hanging is
bad enough—but the rest——!”

“I don’t think the Abati study European history,” I broke in;
“but it is no use disguising from you that they have methods of their
own. Look here, friends,” I added, “I have kept something about me
in case the worst should come to the worst,” and I produced a little
bottle containing a particularly swift and deadly poison done up into
tabloids, and gave one to each of them. “My advice is,” I added,
“that if you see we are going to be exposed to torture or to any
dreadful form of death, you should take one of these, as I mean to do,
and cheat the Abati of their vengeance.”

“That is all very fine,” said the Professor as he pocketed his
tabloid, “but I never could swallow a pill without water at the best
of times, and I don’t believe those beasts will give one any. Well, I
suppose I must suck it, that’s all. Oh! if only the luck would turn,
if only the luck would turn!”

Three more days went by without any sign of Higgs’s aspiration being
fulfilled. On the contrary, except in one respect, the luck remained
steadily against us. The exception was that we got plenty to eat and
consequently regained our normal state of health and strength more
rapidly than might have been expected. With us it was literally a case
of “Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.”

Only somehow I don’t think that any of us really believed that we
should die, though whether this was because we had all, except poor
Quick, survived so much, or from a sneaking faith in Maqueda’s
optimistic dreams, I cannot say. At any rate we ate our food with
appetite, took exercise in an inner yard of the prison, and strove to
grow as strong as we could, feeling that soon we might need all our
powers. Oliver was the most miserable among us, not for his own sake,
but because, poor fellow, he was haunted with fears as to Maqueda and
her fate, although of these he said little or nothing to us. On the
other hand, my son Roderick was by far the most cheerful. He had lived
for so many years upon the brink of death that this familiar gulf
seemed to have no terrors for him.

“All come right somehow, my father,” he said airily. “Who can
know what happen? Perhaps Child of King drag us out of mud-hole, for
after all she was very strong cow, or what you call it, heifer, and I
think toss Joshua if he drive her into corner. Or perhaps other thing
occur.”

“What other thing, Roderick?” I asked.

“Oh! don’t know, can’t say, but I think Fung thing. Believe
we not done with Fung yet, believe they not run far. Believe they take
thought for morrow and come back again. Only,” he added sadly,
“hope my wife not come back, for that old girl too full of lofty
temper for me. Still, cheer up, not dead yet by long day’s march, and
meanwhile food good and this very jolly rest after beastly underground
city. Now I tell Professor some more stories about Fung religion, den
of lions, and so forth.”

On the morning after this conversation a crisis came. Just as we had
finished breakfast the doors of our chamber were thrown open and in
marched a number of soldiers wearing Joshua’s badge. They were headed
by an officer of his household, who commanded us to rise and follow
him.

“Where to?” asked Orme.

“To take your trial before the Child of Kings and her Council,
Gentile, upon the charge of having murdered certain of her subjects,”
answered the officer sternly.

“That’s all right,” said Higgs with a sigh of relief.
“If Maqueda is chairman of the Bench we are pretty certain of an
acquittal, for Orme’s sake if not for our own.”

“Don’t you be too sure of that,” I whispered into his ear.
“The circumstances are peculiar, and women have been known to change
their minds.”

“Adams,” he replied, glaring at me through his smoked spectacles,
“If you talk like that we shall quarrel. Maqueda change her mind
indeed! Why, it is an insult to suggest such a thing, and if you take
my advice you won’t let Oliver hear you. Don’t you remember, man,
that she’s in love with him?”

“Oh, yes,” I answered, “but I remember also that Prince
Joshua is in love with her, and that she is his prisoner.”

CHAPTER XX.

THE TRIAL AND AFTER

They set us in a line, four ragged-looking fellows, all of us with
beards of various degrees of growth, that is, all the other three, for
mine had been an established fact for years, and everything having been
taken away from us, we possessed neither razor nor scissors.

In the courtyard of our barrack we were met by a company of soldiers,
who encircled us about with a triple line of men, as we thought to
prevent any attempt of escape. So soon as we passed the gates I found,
however, that this was done for a different reason, namely, to protect
us from the fury of the populace. All the way from the barrack to the
courthouse, whither we were being taken now that the palace was burned,
the people were gathered in hundreds, literally howling for our blood.
It was a strange, and, in a way, a dreadful sight to see even the
brightly dressed women and children shaking their fists and spitting at
us with faces distorted by hate.

“Why they love you so little, father, when you do so much for
them?” asked Roderick, shrugging his shoulders and dodging a stone
that nearly hit him on the head.

“For two reasons,” I answered. “Because their Lady loves one
of us too much, and because through us many of their people have lost
their lives. Also they hate strangers, and are by nature cruel, like
most cowards, and now that they have no more fear of the Fung, they
think it will be safe to kill us.”

“Ah!” said Roderick; “yet Harmac has come to Mur,” and
he pointed to the great head of the idol seated on the cliff, “and I
think where Harmac goes, Fung follow, and if so they make them pay
plenty for my life, for I great man among Fung; Fung myself husband of
Sultan’s daughter. These fools, like children, because they see no
Fung, think there are no Fung. Well, in one year, or perhaps one month,
they learn.”

“I daresay, my boy,” I answered, “but I am afraid that
won’t help us.”

By now we were approaching the court-house where the Abati priests and
learned men tried civil and some criminal cases. Through a mob of
nobles and soldiers who mocked us as we went, we were hustled into the
large hall of judgment that was already full to overflowing.

Up the centre of it we marched to a clear space reserved for the parties
to a cause, or prisoners and their advocates, beyond which, against the