Prisoners of Chance

"But the woman who now rules over you?" I questioned, waiting vainly for him to resume. "Is she not white?"

He did not answer; apparently he did not hear.

"I ask regarding Queen Naladi--is she also of your people?"

"We are alike children of the Sun," he responded, his tone more sullen. "She is of the Sun and was sent to rule; sent by the Sun to lead us once again unto our own."

"She told you this?"

"We know it by signs, by the prophecy of our fathers; we were long looking for her coming; she was promised us by the Sun. In the hour of deepest need, a woman fair of face with hair of reddish gold, a goddess in earthly form, was to be sent to guide us. She came out of the mystery, and we wait her will."

"Then she is not of your race?"

"I have answered--she came to our people from the Sun."

I have not often felt too secure while in any position of danger, but this feeble old savage rested so helplessly back against the base of the altar, I lost all thought of him as an enemy against whom I needed to guard. Sunk in contemplation of his story, I sat carelessly, my head somewhat lowered as I mentally viewed the picture drawn. Cairnes moved uneasily in his sleep, muttering something indistinctly, and I turned partially so that I might look at him. Instantly, with the leap of a tiger, the priest hurled himself upon me. I flung up one arm, barely in time to intercept a jagged stone aimed full at my head. As we clinched and went down, the incarnate fiend buried his yellow teeth in my hand, and, in spite of his weight of years, I found myself hard pressed in a death struggle. A very demon seemed to possess him; his grip was satanic in its hate. In truth it was Cairnes who seized him by the throat, dragging him off me. He struggled insanely against the two of us, until we bound him so securely that nothing except his eyes could move.