CHAPTER XLVIII
"A whirlpool of uncertainty, a prison of punishment, a basket of illusion, the open throat of hell."--_The Spring Sataka_.
A brick and some plaster clattered about Jan Cuxson's feet as hecrossed the temple chamber and stood looking out at the jungle, and theanimals of all sizes and shapes which were hurtling through theundergrowth. For a minute he stood twirling the rusty knife bladebetween his fingers, then hid it carefully behind a block of brokenmasonry.
"Better so," he muttered, "not much good as a weapon of defence, butbetter than nothing; might put the old man on the track if he happenedto find it on me when he comes to tie me up. My God! to think of it;I, strong and healthy and sane, at the mercy of that old priest,actually under his will--hypnotised, forced to do exactly what he tellsme. Please heavens the ghee will hold the plaster together round thering, and oh! I can't stand _much_ more of this suspense."
He had come to the end of his endurance.
Day had followed night, and night had followed day monotonously,without a change in the heartbreaking dreariness of their round.
During the day he had watched the jungle over the outer wall for hours,rewarded by an occasional glimpse of deer; once by a striped yellowshade which had slunk between the trees, causing him to yearn for hisrifle; at night he had lain gazing at the stars, comfortable enoughupon a thick bed of leaves, untroubled by the mosquito which, as he hadlearned, does not thrive in the Sunderbunds Jungle; and day and nightover the wall, or up at the stars, he strove to look into the futureand found a dreary blank.
But upon _this_ night he turned with a smile and a question on his lipswhen the priest suddenly emerged from behind the heap of stones andhurried across the flags towards him.
"Haste, sahib! The Mother is infuriated at the long waiting, and I goto make sacrifice to appease her. _Haste_, for it is not good for manif she stamps with both her holy feet. Come, and struggle not! Nay,look not at me in such fashion lest I lay the stress of my will uponyou."
He looked so frail, that for an instant the white man had been temptedto fling himself upon him, and find deliverance for himself and hisbeloved by choking the wizened neck, or cracking the old pate againstthe stones.
But one is rather at a disadvantage when thoughts are liable to beread, and plans disclosed before they are even matured; and he walkedsubmissively towards the ring in the wall, and seated himselfabjectedly upon the floor, just as a handful of plaster inserted itselfbetween his neck and the open collar of his shirt, and the back of hishead bumped the wall.
"Something like a slight----"
"Haste, sahib! I must away to placate Kali, the Goddess ofDestruction. There is not long now to wait for the great sacrifice forwhich she has waited all these weary years; and then, and only then,shall the plague, and the pestilence, and the famine be ended, and thepeople of India return to their old-time happiness."
He never once removed his eyes from those of the man beneath him, andCuxson sighed with relief, well content that the glaring eyes shouldnot move beyond his face.
Having knotted the thongs tightly, the old man straightened himself,and smiled up at the silvery heavens in the ecstasy of his worship.
"Such sacrifice, O Mother, as thou hast longed for, and which has longbeen forbidden thee through the might of the white man who rules us.The temple is strewn with flowers, and the flames of hundreds of lightsshine in thy fish-shaped eyes, thou daughter of the eternal snows." Helooked down suddenly to Cuxson, and bending, whispered in his ear."The white woman approaches, O _feringhee_, even she who has causedthis land to travail in agony all these years. And you shall see her,she shall come to you and know you not, and you shall hear her voiceupraised in worship as she lies upon the altar at her Mother's feetwhile you are bound to the ring in the wall. She has done well inworship, even in sacrifice, but it is in her rich warm blood that Kalithe Terrible would lave her hands. Struggle not, for behold, althoughI have lifted my will from you that you should be tormented even as myrace has been tormented by a woman of your land, yet will the ring andthe hide hold you fast."
Like some huge bird of prey he ran swiftly back across the flags anddisappeared behind the mass of stones, and Cuxson, not daring to movefor fear of tightening the thongs, sat almost numb with anxiety as hewondered if his luck would hold at the crucial moment.
Except for the crash of the frightened animals as they fought their waythrough the undergrowth, there was no sound whatever in the place, butas the moon took her seat above the exact centre of where once had beenthe temple roof, he moved, and leant forward as far as the two feet ofraw hide would allow him, and from between his clenched teeth therecame one word:
"_Hell_!"
For the silence had been suddenly broken by a girl's sharp, hystericallaugh, and though the sound was but a travesty, yet it was surelyLeonie's laugh.
Twisting his arms in the space the two feet of raw hide allowed him,the slow, sure, desperate man with a mute appeal to _his_ God, soughtand caught the iron ring in his hands.
And in the jungle clearing where the fire smouldered dimly, and thecoolies, flat on their faces from abject terror, refused to move, MadhuKrishnaghar sat, garbed as a servant, his brain in a whirl of religionand hate, and his heart filled with love of the white girl he had sentto certain death.
Suddenly he sprang to his feet, and tearing his raiment from him flungit wide, and stood nude save for the loin cloth about the slendermiddle, and the turban which outlined his tortured face, looking likesome lost bronze statue in the deserted places of the jungle. Heraised his hands to heaven and prayed.
"O Mother, spare her! O great god, have pity upon her," and thesuddenly risen wind took up his words and lifted them above the treetops, wafting them perhaps--and why not--to the God of Infinite Love.
Yet even as he prayed Leonie crept up to the doorway of the temple,staring unblinkingly at the far end of the interior illuminated by theflickering wicks of the hundreds of little lights. She inhaled deeply,and half closed her glaring eyes as the overpowering sickly perfume offlowers, and some other indescribably sickening odour went to her headlike cheap wine.
"Yes?" she said questioningly, although no sound had broken the intensestillness, and stood quite still with her head a little on one side,then dropped to one knee and commenced to unlace her high boots, theslap of the laces pulled through the holes cutting the silence like aknife.
With her hands clasped to her breast, and walking on the tips of herbare toes, she moved through the shadows towards the light, alone andobedient to a will that had no pity. Flowers were strewn thick inevery direction, and over them she passed to her death, while the eyesof the priest never once left her face as he crouched in the openingwhich led to the secret places of the temple; he even smiled when shecame to a standstill in front of the altar and swayed, slightlyovercome by the heavy atmosphere even in her trance; and he nodded hishead gently when she bent down and gathering handsful of the flowers,flung them up above her head and laughed the hysterical, crazy laughwhich had reached the ears of the man she loved.
At her feet were _thalees_, brass plates laden with offerings of grain,of woven stuffs, of gold and silver; at her right hand a crimson silk_sari_ lay upon a heap of fallen stones, and upon it was a garland ofwhite flowers; and the slanting mother-o'-pearl eyes of the GoddessKali looked down from out the black face at this girl who was to besacrificed in atonement for the misery she had unwittingly brought uponthe land of India and her people.
Leonie's hands moved mechanically to her hair, which she unfastened andshook out in all its glory; then they moved to the fastening of herjersey, and one by one her garments slipped to the floor, leaving hernude save for the covering of her hair.
Leaning down she lifted the _sari_, and with one quick movement twistedit about her waist and across her breast; slipped the garland of whiteflowers about her neck, and flinging back her hair raised her handsabove her head and shouted.
She did not sing or cry alou
d, she shouted with her mouth wide open,and her head thrust forward between her uplifted arms, a degradingpicture of religious sensuality; and gathering up armsful of flowersfrom the floor, ran lightly over to the priest upon the tip of her baretoes which were stained a hideous red, and putting the palm of one handagainst her forehead salaamed and said "Yes?" questioningly.
He laid no hand upon her, he made no sign and spoke no word, but she,as drugged by another's will as if she were under the bane of opium,followed him unhesitatingly into the secret places of the temple. Herbare feet made no sound on the dust of centuries; her eyes looked backunwaveringly into the eyes of the gods who leered down upon her; herhair caught around those others of which it is not seemly to write; andbefore them all she cast her flowers, and upon them all she laid heropen palm.
And Jan Cuxson held his breath when she quietly sidled round the blockof fallen masonry, and standing in a moonray glanced at him from thecorner of her eyes. Hung with flowers, she looked like a bacchante,with one beautiful arm and shoulder showing bare through her mantle oftumbled hair.
And his eyes caught the shadow of the priest cast by the passage lightson to the floor as he stood hidden by the fallen stones, and he keptstill, but he called to his beloved, striving by his will to break herchains, and truly at the sound of the loved voice the frozen horrors ofher face seemed to break like ice-floes before the sun in spring.
"Leonie," he called gently, "Leonie, come to me, come here to _me_!"
Her eyelids suddenly closed upon the staring gold-flecked eyes; hermouth quivered in a little smile as she let fall the flowers about herbloodstained feet and ran swiftly across to Jan; kneeling she touchedhis face gently with her finger-tips, and stretched her hands acrosshis shoulders towards the thongs which bound him to the ring in thewall.
Her hair fell upon him as she leaned towards him, and a memory of theday he had found her in Rockham Cove flashed across his mind; hermouth, her beautiful scarlet virgin mouth had almost touched his whenthe priest's power, closing down, jerked her back into the horribletravesty of her sweet, gentle self.
She sat back upon her heels and laughed, and said one word inHindustani which is best translated as dog, although it meansinfinitely more and worse; and having uttered it she smote him acrossthe mouth with the flat of her hand and rose to her feet.
She stood for a moment laughing silently, looking down upon him, andturning, ran swiftly across the flags to the block of fallen stones.There she paused and glanced at the white man bound to the wall withthe light of battle in his eyes, before she disappeared, beckoning tothe priest who followed as she ran down the passage of the gods, makingobeisance before them as she passed.
Leonie of the Jungle Page 47