'Where God was never known.'
He paused here in the narrow entry to say, 'Stand back, my darlin's, we ain't got no quarrel with you'; and then, facing the priests inside, to call back--
'Now for it, sir!--use your fists on the Ram-rammers if they tries to stop yer!'
'And taught to pray a useless prayer.'
The words were broken a bit by blows, an oath or two, yells and desperate scuffling, until--breathless but continuous--the chant rose again among the shadows and the incense--
'To blocks of wood and stone!'
Here Jân-Ali-shân, clear of all his adversaries save the Swâmi, who stood with upraised hands barring the way before the image of Mai Kâli, pushed the former aside and aimed a passing swing at the latter.
The crash of a fall mingled with his gay 'Yoicks forre'd! gone away! gone away!' and the next moment, closely followed by Chris, he was through the temple and waistdeep in the water beyond.
'Mum's the word now, sir!' he whispered, when--after having given Chris a heft up to the lowermost rung of the iron ladder, which hung on the pier--he swung himself up by sheer strength, and then paused for breath. 'How many on them are there, I wonder?'
'Not more than four or five,' whispered Chris, as he climbed. The man behind him made no answer, but Chris could hear him mutter the old complaint--'It don't give a fellow a chanst--it don't, really.'