“We'll do it, however,” said Don resolutely. “The temple's the place to look for him, since he's a priest, and in this disguise the pearls are worth the risk.”
That this was also Jack's opinion was plain from the resolute, nonchalant manner in which he pressed forward.
Owing to the congested state of the thoroughfare, progress was necessarily slow. They were more than an hour in gaining the open maidan in which the street terminated.
In the centre of this open space lay a sacred tank, flanked, on that side nearest the Elephant Rock, by a vast semicircle of temples. Midway in this line stood the chief temple. Here, if at all, the shark-charmer would most likely be found.
But to reach the chief temple was no easy task. Vast crowds of pilgrims surrounded the sacred tank, awaiting their turn to bathe in its stagnant green waters.
At last, after much elbowing and pushing, they reached the steps of the chief temple. Thus far they had seen nothing of Salambo. As they had already made the entire circuit of the tank, there was nothing for it but to seek him in the sacred edifice itself.
Spottie led the way, since for him there was absolutely no risk. Following close upon his heels, past the hideous stone monsters which flanked the entrance, the mock pilgrims found themselves in the temple court. Here the crush was even greater than without.
They had now reached the crucial point of their adventure.
A single unguarded word or action on their part, and each man of these teeming thousands would instantly become a mortal enemy!
Don strove to appear unconcerned, but his pulses throbbed madly at the mere thought of detection. As for Jack, the careless poise of his right hand at his belt showed him to be on his guard, though he looked as cool as a sea-breeze.