A yell of terror broke from his lips, echoed back by a cry so horrible that he glared around in amazement. Then a shadow sprung forward. The hermit stood over him. The firelight without flickered up—there could be no mistake. Grable shuddered with a nameless awe. There seemed something supernatural in these abrupt vanishings and reappearances.
"Mercy—don't kill me!" he gasped, as the bright glimmer of steel filled his eyes. "I didn't mean you no harm when—"
"A dog you've lived—a dog you die!" gritted the hermit.
Then the long knife-blade descended twice, burying its length in the heaving breast of the craven wretch. A horrible yell of agony—a shrill laugh of diabolical glee—then the hermit sprung to his feet.
From without came other sounds—the savages would soon be there to investigate the alarm. Unarmed save with a knife, the pale-faces could expect to do little. Knowing this, Abel seized Edith and clasped her firmly to his breast, saying:
"You know the crooks and turns of this place—lead on, then, before those devils are upon our backs. Quick!"
"True, she must be saved; for you and I, it matters little. Follow me—tread carefully, and keep in my tracks. You have seen a specimen of what the cavern contains, but there is more. Let the heathen follow us if they dare; there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth in the lodges of their people!" and again the wild, almost maniacal laugh of the hermit rung out, reaching the ears of the savages, causing them to glare hurriedly around, with a vague expectation of beholding some supernatural horror.
Into the bowels of the hills—across a chasm spanned by a bridge, taking a passage that led sharply to the right, the hermit led the way, on through the darkness, never once faltering, though at more than one point a single misstep would have ended in hurling the trio down to inevitable destruction.
On he led, Abel following, Edith close clasped to his breast. Still on, winding deviously, now in one direction, now in nearly its opposite, until Abel felt his brain grow unsteady and commence to whirl.
"Now you can wait here until I return. Do not attempt to leave—the ground is full of pitfalls made by nature."