CHAPTER II.
As Niu Tsang sat with his head bowed upon his breast, lost in painful thoughts, and the woman closed her eyes and leaned against the temple wall that she might better rest, a shadow darkened the entrance, and caused them to spring hastily to their feet. In place of fierce soldiers, however, intent upon pillage or even murder, Niu to his surprise saw a solitary stranger, without weapon of any kind, eyeing them curiously. The newcomer even smiled at their evident dismay, and coming forward saluted them after the fashion of the country, bowing and gravely shaking his own hands.
"Be not alarmed, my friend," he said reassuringly to Niu. "I am like yourself, a belated traveller, and even now my boat waits for me at the river bank. But as I had never passed this way before, though often had I heard of the splendid temple of many gods, I seized this opportunity to visit it."
As he spoke he looked around him, while a peculiar, half-quizzical expression lurked at the corners of his mouth.
"Behold it," Niu Tsang answered, making an expressive gesture. Then he went on passionately, his anger increasing at every word:
"The barbarians from beyond the sea could not have been more wicked than these rebels who have dared the vengeance of the gods. Traitors that they are! May none be left to bury them, no, not one to offer incense to their spirits. May they perish miserably, their graves forever unknown, their ghosts forever homeless."
"The ruin is indeed great," the stranger said calmly. "Were the gods deaf to their prayers, that they should thus destroy them?"
"I know not," Niu said shortly, seating himself.
Seeing that his companion did not intend to speak further, but was eyeing him suspiciously, the newcomer continued:
"You seem travel-stained and weary, honored sir, as one who had journeyed from afar. May I ask whither you are bound, that you traverse this bleak plain?"