"Let these four men of Ramos be taken back and guarded well. Each one of them shall die. Their blood shall wash away our dishonour. Three days hence, at setting of the sun, let them meet their doom without prayer or priest, and be consumed with their handiwork within the fiery depths of Melag, hurled therein from the crag Remagaloth. Lead them hence, and let me see them no more; for they have covered me with humiliation before my people, and bowed mine aged head in naked shame!"
[CHAPTER XIII.]
THE CRAG REMAGALOTH.
The sun was slowly setting, blazing in a hundred hues through the many-coloured windows, and filling the great Hall with a mellow glory, as we were conducted back to our chamber, surrounded by an escort of twenty troopers. Kaosp led the way; we could see that his heart was heavy, and that he sympathised with us in our great trouble. We were weak and faint from want of food. The reaction had come after the excitement of the day, and not one of us spoke to the other as we walked along with drooping heads and faltering steps. It was a great relief to escape from the noisy multitude and find quietness in our own chamber, where, left alone in our sorrow, and as dying men, we could rest and be in peace. There seemed no mercy whatever for us; not the remotest chance of escape from the horrid doom to which we had been condemned. Suicide, it is true, was left, as our revolvers were still hidden in our pockets; for it was a remarkable fact that no one had shown any desire to search us since we had been made prisoners, and we were still unwatched. And yet each one in secret still hoped to escape even now, though he dared not to breathe his thoughts to the rest. Had we not three days! What could we not do in them? Oh! hope, when does man really abandon thee? Only with life. Not even the rejected lover, the ruined gambler, or the man who faces certain death—to the last we all of us cling tightly to thee, Pandora's priceless gift to trouble-burdened Man!
Food was brought to us almost immediately; and we were glad to see that Kaosp continued at his post, as commander of the guard.
"Be ye of stout heart, O men of Ramos. Be not so cast down at misfortune! Death is the portion of us all; and mark ye, the King may yet relent his anger, if he doth but see Perodii's perfidy before three more suns have set," said Kaosp cheerfully, as he shook us by the hand and went his way.
"I am afraid, Doctor, you must feel very bitterly against me," said Graham, as we sadly ate our meal. "Both you and Temple must blame me for all this misfortune. I have no regrets for myself, but it is sore grief indeed to see you fall with me."
"Regrets are useless now, Graham," said Temple. "Besides, I did all I could to further your suit with Volinè, for I believed it wise to do so; I do not blame or reproach you. But we must escape! When, or how, I know not; but, Graham, we must escape."
"Ah! all very well to say that, Mr. Temple, but we are too well guarded, and too closely watched. We had best sleep on the matter now, and consult together in the morning, when we are more refreshed."