"Out!" he cried, waving his hand.
"Shall we leave him?" asked the first bearer.
"No; bring him, and out, everybody, lest the god strike and spare not."
He suited action to word. Half carrying old Kobo, he drove the rest out of the temple. Kobo dropped on the threshold. Hano had nerve and courage to swing the door, and then he backed up against it, ashy with terror. Old Kobo rose to his feet.
"People of the island," he cried shrilly, "we have broken the taboo. Hano has spoken falsely. The things of the god are there. O Tangaroa, pardon." He bowed his head in his hands. "Woe, woe, woe!" he cried.
For a moment the islanders stood silent, and then they joined his lamentations.
"Perhaps you will release me now," said Beekman at last.
Old Kobo's hand went out to the lashing.
"Forgive me. This liar will take your place."
"Wait," said Hano, his courage coming back. "I saw the things of the god in the rocks. I heard them moving in the hands of this man and Truda. She can testify."