Latitude 19 degree Part 47

Now," I whispered, "where is the serpent ring? That is good enough to conjure with, I think. At last it's going to do us some good. Let me have it."

I held out an impatient hand. The Skipper obediently slid his fingers into his waistcoat pocket. He began to feel for the ring. He pushed his hand down, down, down, and farther down into an opening on the right side of his nether garment. Farther and farther he felt. He slapped his thighs, his breast, his waistband. He poked and pushed deeper and deeper, and the farther down he went, so my heart fell with the depth of his unrewarded search, for I saw the look of misery which overspread his face at each succeeding trial. His face showed but too plainly what was the cause of the trouble. THE RING WAS GONE!

CHAPTER XVI.

THE GOAT WITHOUT HORNS.

"I can't find it!" whispered the Skipper. "The Bo's'n said it would bring bad luck, and it has by not being here when it's wanted."

I went close to the old man and began to pull and twitch his clothes about in my desperate desire to find the ring.

"It's gone!" said the Skipper. "No use looking! See there! There's where it must have slipped out of my pocket--that hole. Wouldn't let poor little Cynthy mend it. Didn't know it was so big. Suz! suz! suz! What a pity!"

I am sure that I turned the colour of ashes, for the Skipper said: "Don't lose heart, Jones, my boy! Perhaps that black fellow who speaks English can get us out of it in some way. Put a bold front on it, and act the American prince."

_The American prince!_ I! With my ragged clothes and generally dishevelled air! I could have laughed had not our case seemed so utterly hopeless.

The interpreter, who was standing by the curtain, looked inquiringly at me, and asked rather anxiously, I thought:

"Well, what have you got?"

I shook my head sadly and despondently.

"Nothing!" said I.

"Good Heavens! Nothing, after all this fuss? I'm afraid you'll be worse off than before. Can't you make love to the she-devil, or something?

You'd better, Mr. Jones, for, let me tell you, your case is pretty serious."

"Who are you?" whispered I hastily, "and why do you take an interest in us? I see plainly that you know who we are."

"I will tell you later," said our guard. "That is, if you haven't had your ears pickled by that time."

"What can we do?" asked I anxiously.

"Don't worry, Jones; it'll all come out right," said the Skipper.

This remark evinced a most cheerful spirit on the Skipper's part, but I felt that it was one thing to make such an a.s.sertion and another thing to believe that it would come true.

Here the curtains were parted, and the extra guard came in to say that the priest and priestess were waiting impatiently for our proof, if we had any. Alas! I shook my head miserably.

"The prince has mislaid his credentials," said our black friend, "but I am quite sure that he will find them in some miraculous way."

I personally had no such hope, and I followed the guard dejectedly back to the large chamber.

We returned between the carefully drawn curtains, and I remember that even that foetid atmosphere, with the flaming torches and the s.h.i.+ning black and dripping bodies, seemed sweet as a May morning compared with the horrible air of the banqueting hall.

Our interpreter explained our dilemma to the Papaloi and his companion, but it was received with scorn and a horrible look of triumph. The Mamanloi, I fancied, seemed somewhat disappointed, but, if this were so, she dare not show such feeling.

"These are impostors," said the Papaloi sternly. "Let them stand aside until the holy dance is ended, and then we will decide upon their fate."

We were then led to the side of the hall, but not far from the throne.

I thought that possibly our captors feared that during the excitement of the dance we might burst through the crowd and escape. Indeed, our guard advised us to try it, but he told us also that it had been attempted before, though unsuccessfully, and that the sentries would certainly be on the watch. It was curious to hear our interpreter roaring out the most secret messages. Things that would naturally have been whispered, he shouted, which robbed them of their appearance of secrecy, and seemed to be, as he a.s.sured the Papaloi that they were, orders from himself to us.

For instance, when I heard his stentorian tones telling me that the old idiot on the red hawse block was blind in one eye, and that if I got on that side I would have a better chance to escape, I was really frightened.

"Oh, you needn't look so scared!" added the guard. "The old n.i.g.g.e.r doesn't know a word of anything but Dahomey, mixed with a little French, and none of these rascals knows anything about a Christian tongue."

He then turned and made low obeisance to the Papaloi.

"I have asked the prince, as you told me, to stand farther back from the door. Meanwhile, O most gracious Papaloi, some miracle may happen to show you that he is a prince and no liar."

Now seeing that we were on the blacklist, the crowd gathered round and jostled us fiercely.

"You tell them," said I to the guard, "that they'll be sorry for this a little later," at which our friend harangued the crowd, which for an answer laughed and made obscene gestures.

"How dare these strangers intrude upon our sacred rites?" thundered the Papaloi.

"That n.i.g.g.e.r says," said the guard, turning to us, "that he wonders how you had the cheek to come in here."

"Tell him we didn't want to come," said I. "We came quite against our will."

The Papaloi said something more to our friend with superior voice and gesture.

"He asks how you got into the temple."

"By magic," answered I, wis.h.i.+ng not to betray the very commonplace method by which we had entered, or by which our companions, who were not any too far away, had left.

"He says he does not believe you," said the guard, "and that you must suffer the fate of the spy. But, first, the old monkey tells me that you shall witness a sacrifice which will only postpone your own for a little. You can be preparing, he says."

"I told you we'd be a short time living," whispered the Skipper mournfully in my ear. "What a pity you insisted on our h.o.a.rding up that rum so! I wish I had a little of it now."

This monotonous remark of the Skipper's set my nerves on edge. I had been conscious during this conversation and before it of a vicious hissing sound, and, though I had gazed earnestly about me whenever I heard it, there was no solution of its mysterious recurrence. I was now to know the cause.

The priest arose and waved us aside, as if too much time had been given to our affairs. The only reason that I could imagine why he allowed us to remain as witnesses to his dreadful rites was that we should never go forth to tell the tale. This was not encouraging. He raised his hand and thundered forth to the waiting mult.i.tude the order:

"Release the G.o.d!"

Two men from the back of the hall now came forward and stopped at the foot of the throne. They opened the lid of a box that stood beneath it and made part of the lower step. For a moment the watching crowd saw no sign. And then as we looked there came slowly forth a green flat head, protruding eyes, and a darting tongue, which played back and forth in desperate wildness.

The serpent crawled languidly from the box up the robe of the Mamanloi.

He left a slimy trail behind, which shone in the flare of the torches.

The dreadful creature was about four feet in length and very large in circ.u.mference. It seemed lazy and sluggish, and, after climbing up to the Mamanloi's neck, it wreathed itself round and hung there in flabby folds, occasionally laying its flat head against her cheek and letting its red tongue dart against her face, as if in affection. The sight made my flesh to creep.

Then the Papaloi, still standing, raised himself to his extreme height and harangued the mult.i.tude. He told them that the serpent wors.h.i.+p was the only true wors.h.i.+p, and condemned all those who did not believe in its holy teachings to be stung by the fangs of the poisonous python. He raved and screamed for the s.p.a.ce of a quarter hour. Occasionally he shouted, "Will you obey?"