Prisoners of Chance

by Randall Parrish

  CHAPTER XXIII

  THE VOTE OF DEATH

  I have already written that I was never easily affected by supernaturalfears, yet something about that grim entrance chilled the very blood.There was no cessation of the monotonous, dismal chanting of thepriests, as these newcomers,--whose sinister purpose no one coulddoubt,--moving with the silence of spectres, their bodies draped inshapeless robes of skin, appearing ghostlike beneath the uncertainflickering of flame, moved forward like a great writhing snake, passedalong the southern wall beneath the face of the flying dragon overhead,until they found seats on the hard floor between altar and platform;two or three, evidently superior chiefs, by their richer trappings,ascended the raised logs and solemnly squatted thereon, so as to faceus. How many composed this uncanny company I cannot say, having failedto count as they filed past, yet they completely filled the great roomwith scowling, upturned faces, and were probably all the availablewarriors of the tribe.

  This was accomplished in stealthy silence, as wild animals creep upontheir prey, nor did any among them take seats until the oldwar-chief--he who had led the assault in the gulch--made signal to thatend. Responding to a second gesture, we were driven roughly forward byour guard, until permitted to sink down once more, directly in theirfront, within full focus of their cruel eyes.

  It was a fearful spot to be in. That dark interior, dimly lighted byfitful bursts of flame, seemed more the abode of the damned than aplace of human habitation, nor was there anything to remind us of mercyin that savage company gloating over our desperate plight. No one ofus doubted what fate dwelt in the decision of that grewsome gathering,and in those faces we saw nothing except eagerness for revenge. It wastheir speechless silence, their stolid imperturbability, which restedheaviest upon me. It told plainly that we were helpless victims oftheir cruel pleasure. Deliberately, as if desirous of prolonging theagony of our uncertainty, for more than an hour--to us it seemed anage--they sat thus, unmoved as so many statues, except for theirrestless eyes, while the four ministering priests, robed in black fromthroat to sandals, slaughtered animals beneath the frowning shadow ofthe huge winged dragon, pouring warm blood over the stones of thealtar, or smearing it upon their faces. Then, appearing fiendishlyhideous, ghastlier than words can fitly picture, these revoltingfigures began with wild chanting to make offerings to their gods,dancing and capering before the flame to an accompaniment of dismalmusic, burning some incense which polluted the air.

  It was a hellish scene, arousing every sleeping devil within thosesavage hearts; it preyed upon our strained nerves, and the Puritan lostall control, roaring out objurgations on the foul, idolatrous crowduntil he was silenced by the sharp tap of a guard's club on his bushypate. Nor was it easy for De Noyan to remain quiet, while Madame hidher shocked white face in her hands, venturing not to glance up whilethe sound of these rites continued. Whatever this religiousceremony--for such I supposed it to be--may have symbolized, it wasfinally concluded by the entire party uniting in a fierce chant. Asgrim silence settled once more throughout the black interior, the oldwar-chief, appearing taller than ever in the weird light, and renderedpeculiarly repulsive by the bandages wrapping his wounds, rose to hisfeet, commencing an impassioned address.

  No word spoken was intelligible to us, yet I knew so well the natureand customs of savages as to experience little difficulty in decidingthe purpose of this harangue. Without doubt the fellow demanded animmediate sacrifice in payment for the loss inflicted on their tribe.With this conception as guide I noted his continually pointing towardus, one after another, as if singling us out as special subjects fordenunciation, perhaps for torture, as with each he seemed to associatea peculiar term, repeating it again and again with changing cadence, asif thus to force its dread significance more firmly home into the mindsof his listeners. The word I distinguished most frequently had thesound "_ca-tah_," which became associated in my thought as some specialform of torture to which he desired us sentenced. Nor did I fail toremark in this connection, my every faculty alert and strained to graspthe slightest revealment, that, whenever the orator's baleful glancerested upon the shrinking woman, his lips uttered another word, hissilent audience nodding as though in assent to each demand.

  One followed another, no doubt in accordance with rank. Those chiefsupon the platform spoke first, each in turn seeming to pronounceagainst us in favor of that same unknown fate, making use of those twowords, gesticulating toward us as they gave judgment. Nowhere amid allthat vengeful black circle did I discern a single face not set insavage hatred, while slowly at first, but gathering force as itproceeded, there passed from lip to lip the sullen murmur of that dreadword "_ca-tah_." As it was pronounced each voter pointed at us, threetimes making repetition of the word, until the last warrior had spoken,and we knew that our doom had been formally pronounced by a tribunalknowing no mercy, from whose decision there was no appeal.

  No hapless prisoner confined, as I have read they were in olden times,within a dungeon whose walls slowly closed to crush him into pulp,could have seen the coming of death, resistless and horrible, withclearer vision than was ours as that group of savages pronounced ourdoom. It was by exercising the greatest effort of will that Iconquered the dread sense of utter hopelessness which seemed to numb myevery faculty; for, although I was to be tortured to the end, andperish at last in utmost physical agony, yet before that moment camethere still remained a duty to be performed for one I loved. For thatI must retain mind and strength to act like a man.

  Slowly, cautiously, moving inch by inch across the small spaceintervening, so as not to attract the attention of our guard, I creptforward, pausing at last close beside Madame. Even as I reached herthe final warrior cast his useless vote with the others, the excitedconcourse voicing appreciation in noisy acclaim. I bent low, tremblingfrom weakness, until my lips were close to her ear.

  "Eloise," I whispered softly, forgetting at the awful moment that shepossessed another name, "it has been voted that three of us perish bytorture, but you are not in the list; you are named for a differentfate. Is it still your wish that I fulfil the pledge?"

  As she glanced up, the old war-chief pointed directly toward her. Icould perceive the baleful gleam of his eyes, and noted with what quickaversion she shrank back until her shoulder pressed my own.

  "Yes, Geoffrey Benteen," she made immediate, resolute answer. "It willbe mercy. I beg you strike."

  "You forgive the blow?"

  "Forgive!" An instant her clear eyes, unfrightened, looked directlyinto mine, a message in their depths I had never seen there before."More, I love the heart and hand which speed it."

  My hands were bound tightly together, but my arms remained free, thehilt of the knife resting firmly between the palms. Although I drew mybody somewhat back in readiness for the stroke, I delayed the terribledeed until the last possible moment, the perspiration standing in greatbeads upon my face. Oh, how I loved her then! how my half-blinded eyesfeasted upon her sweet, sad face, the flames casting a ruddy glow uponit, and playing fitfully amid the masses of her dark, tangled hair!There swept across my mind every memory of our past, and she was againwith me in her girlhood, before sorrow had stamped her with its seal,and she had turned me away tenderly as ever a woman could. And now shewas doomed to death by my hand; with one blow I was to blot out thelife I loved a thousand times better than my own. Merciful God! what atrick had fate played me! Nor durst I speak to her again, for herfingers toyed with the rosary at her throat, the beads glowing dully inthe flame, and I knew she was in prayer, expecting with each instantthe coming of that stroke which should send her trusting soul to God.I, who have seen much of conflict and peril, much of suffering andatrocity, look back on no moment in all my life so fraught with agonyas this, when, grasping that deadly knife in both hands, I watchedevery threatening movement of the savage arbiters of her fate, prayingunto God for strength with which to perform my duty.

  At last the chiefs stood erect. In response to their gestures ofcomman
d, the massed warriors below sprang to their feet, flockingeagerly toward us, giving utterance to one deep vengeful cry. Alreadytheir clutches were upon the struggling Puritan, when I swung high thegleaming knife in both my hands. For one terrible second I met herunflinching gaze, a glance which will abide with me until my dyingday--then the keen steel fell, barely deflected from the heart,slashing open the bosom of her dress, yet--thanks be to a kindGod!--finding harmless sheath, not within her quivering flesh but inthe hard-packed earth. It was scarcely less than a miracle that I wasthus able to turn the blow, but, even as I aimed it, putting to thehilt my full strength that I might send it surely home, there came intomy vision a sudden flash of bright color against the dark, skin-drapedwall, and I knew the Queen had come.