“It could not be hot,” was the answer.
“Well, it had some kind of stuff on it that was hotter than the hottest red pepper! Woosh! Oh, my mouth! Water—give me water, or I perish!”
Tears were running down his checks and he was gasping for breath. Somebody handed him what seemed to be a glass of water. He seized it and took two big swallows. Then he flung the glass and its contents crashing against the wall, with another howl fully as loud as the first.
“Gods of the Egyptians!” he almost shrieked. “What is that stuff? I’m poisoned!”
“Poisoned?” they cried, in apparent alarm.
“I guess so! That stuff was bitter as the bitterest gall, and it has puckered my mouth so I can hardly get it open to speak!”
“Bitter—he says it was bitter!” cried one man. “Where did it come from?”
“I brought it from the black chamber,” answered one of the students.
A chorus of groans and shrieks went up.
“Then he is poisoned!” roared the master. “It is the fatal drink which every candidate swears to take if he reveals any of the secrets of our sacred order! Good heavens! gentlemen, this matter is serious! If that liquid is not removed from his stomach within five minutes, he dies!”