"Shall we ride back to camp?" I asked.
"Not yet," replied Faris. "I must go down to the chamber and look. Will you also come?"
I hated the idea, but I felt that it would be cowardly to let the sheik go alone; so we walked down together, and finding that the smoke had now ceased, we peered through the doorway into the blackened chamber. A thick grimy soot caked the walls and the stone ceiling, and the air was laden with a foul smell, not unlike that of the boiling asphalt being prepared for a London street. Hesitating to enter, we stood on the threshold, not knowing that the flames might not burst out afresh; and the remembrance of those long tongues of fire curling through the doorway was sufficient to make us cautious. After a little, Faris took a step forward, and shading his eyes with his hand, looked into the gloom of the interior. I followed, but not without some misgivings. I looked first at the spot where the seer had been standing when I saw the last bead leave his hand. The couch from which he had risen had disappeared; nothing remained but a handful of ashes on the floor. I gazed across at the other side of the chamber, and when my eyes had become accustomed to the dim light, I was able to see a large hole in the floor exactly where I recollected to have seen the couch on which the three Bedouins had been seated. Faris saw it at the same instant, and uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"Let us go carefully, and look at it," he said.
We reached the edge, and found a great pit, how deep we were unable to see. Pungent fumes still issued from it, and we were forced to draw back. I turned to my companion for an explanation, and he dragged me out of the chamber, the atmosphere of which was oppressive.
"It was a bitumen well," said he, "and the seer purposely set it on fire through the agency of his gods. I am as much astonished as yourself; for, I have sat on that couch scores of times, never thinking that such a thing was beneath me. Perhaps it was not always there. Perhaps it was brought by the gods only when the seer invoked their aid. But little did he think that in thus destroying his enemies, he would also bring his own death."
The sheik had hardly finished speaking before we heard a low wailing chant coming from beyond the fatal chamber. Spellbound, we stood and listened. Now the sound grew louder; now died away. Again it came clear and strong. It was a strange unearthly crooning; and, had I been alone, I should have fled from it. That I trembled I have no doubt, and Faris saw my fear.
"Courage, lad," he said, taking me by the arm. "It is someone in the temple beyond. Come, let us go and see. Death only comes once, and our fate has already been arranged for us. If we are to die to-day, then we shall die. We cannot alter our fate."
I made no reply, but nerving myself with a great effort, walked with him through the chamber to the inner doorway. There was no door—whether it had been destroyed by the fire, or whether there never had been one, I cannot say. Beyond the doorway was a narrow bricked passage, with here and there long slanting slits admitting the daylight. A steep flight of steps led us to another stone doorway, on the lintel of which were carved queer figures of beasts. Here we stood and listened. The chanting still continued; and we moved on for a short distance along the tunnel-like passage. Presently we found ourselves in a circular vaulted room, with bare walls rising to a height of some fifteen feet before the dome of the roof began. In the centre of the dome was a hole, a foot or so in diameter, through which the sky was visible. Eight passages, similar to that by which we had entered, radiated from the chamber, so that its walls appeared like solid pillars supporting the roof. We listened again, but no sound could we now hear.
"Sheik," I whispered, fearing to speak aloud, "do you know which way to take?"