“Why—are—we—in—darkness?” asked Roy with infinite labor.
Kasba stared at him in horrified amazement, for the light she held fell full upon his face.
At this moment an ejaculation from behind caused her to glance back. In the doorway stood the boy David with an expression of terrified wonder on his face, and towering over his shoulder, with his head pushed well forward, was Sahanderry who stood awestruck. His mouth was wide open, and his piercing black eyes, large and round, betrayed the amazement he felt.
Kasba beckoned him to come forward, and putting the boy aside, he cautiously entered. With eyes intent upon the countenance of his master, Sahanderry drew near the bed. Then realizing that Roy was in truth alive, that by some seeming miracle he had returned from the very brink of the grave, he sprang impulsively forward, and clutching one of Roy’s hands, burst into tears.
“Oh, Bekothrie! Bekothrie! I am glad—me!” he sobbed.
This miraculous escape from the dead was more in accord with his wonderful faith than that Roy the all-powerful could be overcome, and his jubilation knew no bounds.
“But, Sahanderry,” said Roy, still speaking in a low, weak voice, “tell me, why are we in the dark?” There was a slight tone of apprehension in his voice, as if he divined that some evil was being kept from him.
Sahanderry ceased his sobbing and gazed with perplexity at Kasba.
“Why—,” he began, but Kasba with a swift gesture clapped her hand over his mouth.
Silent as the motion was, the slight, almost imperceptible sound made by the girl in shifting her position caught Roy’s attention. He lay with a painfully strained look upon his face, and in an attitude of intently listening. No one spoke. The man and girl watched him with fast beating hearts, a look of horror growing in their eyes, for a terrible suspicion gradually took possession of them.