The People of the Mist by H. Rider Haggard (best books for students to read .txt) 📕
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- Author: H. Rider Haggard
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“I accept,” he said in a clear voice, “for thus will it be given to me to save the life of the Senora, and to atone for my offence. Come, let me make ready.”
“Francisco,” muttered Leonard, for his emotion would not suffer him to speak aloud, “you are a saint and a hero. I wish that I could go through this in your stead, for most gladly would I do so, but it is not possible.”
“It seems then that there are two saints and heroes,” replied the priest gently. “But why talk thus? It is the bounden duty of either or both of us to die for her, yet it is far better that I should die leaving you alive to love and comfort her.”
Leonard thought a moment. “I suppose it must be so,” he said, “but Heaven knows, it is a terrible alternative. How can I trust that woman Soa? And yet if I do not trust her Juanna will be killed at once.”
“You must take the chance of it,” answered Francisco; “after all she is fond of her mistress, and it was because she grew jealous that she fled to Nam and betrayed us.”
“There is another thing,” said Leonard; “how are we to get Juanna away? If once she suspects the plot, there will be an end of it. Soa, come thither.”
She came, and he put this question to her, telling her at the same time that Francisco consented to the scheme and that Juanna slept behind the curtain and might awake at any moment.
“I have that with me which shall overcome the difficulty, Deliverer,” answered Soa, “for I foresaw it. See here,” and she drew a small gourd from her dress, “this is that same water of which Saga gave your black dog to drink when I escaped you. Now mix it with some spirit, go to the Shepherdess, awake her, and bid her drink this to comfort her. She will obey, and immediately deep sleep will take her again that shall hold her fast for six hours.”
“It is not a poison?” asked Leonard suspiciously.
“No, it is not a poison. What need would there be to poison one who must die at dawn?”
Then Leonard did as she told him. Taking a tin pannikin, one of their few possessions, he emptied the sleeping-draught into it and added enough native brandy to colour the water.
Next he went into Juanna’s room and found her lying fast asleep upon the great bed. Going up to her he touched her gently on the shoulder, saying, “Wake, my love.” She raised herself and opened her eyes.
“Is that you, Leonard?” she said. “I was dreaming that I was a girl again and at school at Durban, and that it was time to get up for early service at the church. Oh! I remember now. Is it dawn yet?”
“No, dear, but it soon will be,” he answered; “here, drink this, it will give you courage.”
“How horrid that spirit tastes!” she said, then sank back slowly on the cushion and in another minute fell sound asleep again. The draught was strong and it worked quickly.
Leonard went to the curtain and beckoned to Soa and the others. They all entered except the priests, who remained clustered together near the doorway of the great chamber talking in low tones and apparently taking no notice of what passed.
“Take off that robe, Bald-pate,” said Soa; “I must give you another.”
He obeyed, and while Soa was engaged in clothing Juanna’s senseless form in the gown of the priest, Francisco drew his diary from the pocket in his vest where he kept it. Rapidly he wrote a few lines on a blank page, then shutting the book he handed it to Leonard together with his rosary, saying:
“Let the Senora read what I have written here, after I am dead, not before, and give her these beads in memory of me. Many is the time that I have prayed for her upon them. Perhaps she will wear them after I am gone, and, although she is a Protestant, sometimes offer up a prayer for me.”
Leonard took the book and the rosary and placed them in an inner pocket. Then he turned to Otter and rapidly explained to him the meaning of all that was being done.
“Ah, Baas,” said the dwarf, “put no faith in that she-devil. And yet perhaps she will try to save the Shepherdess, for she loves her as a lioness loves her young. But I am afraid for you, Baas, for you she hates.”
“Never mind about me, Otter,” answered Leonard. “Listen: they are going to hide us in the dungeons of the temple; if by any chance you escape, seek out Olfan and try to rescue us. If not, farewell, and may we meet again in another place.”
“Oh! Baas, Baas,” said Otter with a deep sob, “for myself I care nothing, nor whether I live or die, but it is sad to think that you will perish alone, and I not with you. Oh! why did Baas Tom dream that evil dream? Had it not been for him, we might have been transport-riding in Natal to-day. I would that I had been a better servant to you, Baas, but it is too late now.” And as he spoke Leonard felt a great tear fall upon his hand.
“Never mind the servant, Otter,” he answered; “you are the best friend, black or white, that ever I had, and Heaven reward you for it. If you can help the Baas yonder at the last, do so. At the least see that he swallows the medicine in time, for he is weak and gentle and not fitted to die such a death,” and he turned away.
By this time Soa had arrayed Francisco in the black robe of Aca. The white dress worn in the temple ceremonies he did not put on, for it remained upon Juanna, completely hidden from sight, however, by the priest’s gown.
“Who would know them apart now?” asked Soa triumphantly, then added, handing Leonard the great ruby which she had taken from Juanna’s forehead, “Here, Deliverer, this belongs to you; do not lose the stone, for you have gone through much to win it.”
Leonard took the gem and at first was minded to dash it into the old woman’s sneering face, but remembering the uselessness of such a performance, he thrust it into his pocket together with the rosary.
“Come, let us be going,” said Soa. “You must carry the Shepherdess, Deliverer; I will say that it is Bald-pate who has fainted with fear. Farewell, Bald-pate; after all you are a brave man, and I honour you for this deed. Keep the hood well about your face, and if you would preserve the Shepherdess alive, be silent, answering no word whoever addresses you, and uttering no cry however great your fear.”
Francisco went to the bed where Juanna lay, and holding out his hand above her as though in blessing, he muttered some words of prayer or farewell. Then turning, he clasped Leonard in his arms, kissed him and blessed him also.
“Good-bye, Francisco,” said Leonard in a choking voice; “surely the Kingdom of Heaven is made up of such as you.”
“Do not weep, my friend,” answered the priest, “for there in that kingdom I hope to greet you and her.”
And so these friends parted.
THE WHITE DAWN
Lifting Juanna in his arms, Leonard hurried from the sleeping apartment to the throne-room, where he halted hesitating, for he did not know what was to happen next. Soa, who had preceded him, surrounded by the four priests and with a torch in her hand, stood against that wall of the chamber where she had lain bound on the night of the drugging of Otter.
“Bald-pate has fainted with fear, he is a coward,” she said to the priests, pointing to the burden in Leonard’s arms; “open the secret way, and let us pass on.”
Then a priest came forward, and pressed upon a stone in the wall, which gave way, leaving a space sufficiently large for him to insert his hand and pull upon some hidden mechanism with all his force. Thereon a piece of the wall swung outward as though upon a pivot, revealing a flight of steps, beyond which ran a narrow passage. Soa descended first, bearing the light, which she was careful to hold in such a way as to keep the figure of Leonard, and the burden that he bore, in comparative darkness. After her went two priests, followed by Leonard, carrying Juanna, the rear being brought up by the remaining priests, who closed the secret door behind them.
“So that is how it is done,” thought Leonard to himself, turning his head to watch the process, no detail of which escaped him.
Otter, who had followed Leonard from Juanna’s chamber, saw them go, though from some little distance, for, like a cat, the dwarf could see in the dark. When the rock had closed again, he returned to Francisco, who sat upon the bed lost in prayer or thought.
“I have seen how they make a hole in the wall,” he said, “and pass through it. Doubtless our comrades, the Settlement men, went that way. Say, shall we try it?”
“What is the use, Otter?” answered the priest. “The road leads only to the dungeons of the temple; if we got so far we should be caught there, and everything would be discovered, including this trick,” and he pointed to the robes of Aca, which he wore.
“That is true,” said Otter. “Come, then, let us go and sit upon the thrones and wait till they fetch us.”
So they went to the great chairs and sat themselves down in them, listening to the tramp of the guards outside the doorway. Here Francisco resumed his prayers, while Otter sang songs of the deeds that he had done, and more especially a very long one which he had composed upon the taking of the slave camp—“to keep his heart alive,” as he explained to Francisco.
A quarter of an hour passed and the curtains were drawn aside, admitting a band of priests, headed by Nam, and bearing two litters.
“Now silence, Otter,” whispered Francisco, drawing his hood over his face.
“Here sit the gods,” said Nam, waving the torch that he carried towards the two quiet figures on the thrones. “Descend, ye gods, that we may bear you to the temple and seat you in a lofty place, whence ye shall watch the glories of the rising sun.”
Then, without more ado, Otter and Francisco came down from their seats, and took their places in the litters. Presently they felt themselves being borne forward at a considerable speed. When they were outside the palace gates Otter peeped through the curtain in the hope of perceiving some change in the weather. In vain; the mist was denser than usual, although it grew grey with the light of the coming dawn. Now they were at those gates of the temple that were nearest to the colossal idol, and here, at the mouth of one of the numerous underground passages, guards assisted them to descend.
“Farewell, Queen,” whispered the voice of Olfan into Francisco’s ear; “I would have given my life to save you, but I have failed; as it is, I live to avenge you upon Nam and all his servants.”
Francisco made no answer, but pressed on down the passage holding his head low. Soon they were at the foot of the idol, and, led by priests, began to ascend the stairway in the interior of the statue. Up they toiled slowly in the utter darkness; indeed, to Francisco this, the last journey of his life, seemed the longest.
At length they emerged upon the head of the colossus, where neither of them had been before. It formed a flat platform about eight feet square, quite unprotected at the edges, beneath which curved the sheer outlines of the sculptured head. The ivory throne whereon Juanna had sat when first she visited the temple was gone, and instead of it, placed at the very verge of the forehead, were two wooden stools upon which the victims must seat themselves. From this horrible elevation could be seen that narrow space of rock between the feet of the colossus and the wall of the pool where was the stone altar, although, owing to the slope of the bowed head, he who stood upon it almost overhung the waters of the well.
Otter and Francisco seated themselves on the stools, and behind them Nam and three other priests took their stand, Nam placing himself in such a position that his companions could not see anything of Francisco’s slight form, which they believed to be that of the Shepherdess.
“Hold me, Otter,” whispered Francisco. “My senses will leave me, and I shall fall.”
“Shut your eyes and
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