Ted and Stanley were nearly as much startled as were the others, for in the excitement of the moment they had completely forgotten the dynamite.
“Now,” Stanley shouted, “let’s go.”
With a start they snapped their chains and leaped to one side. Stanley rushed up to Soncco, who, too, seemed bewildered.
“Silence the crowd,” he panted. “I have something to say that I want every one to hear.”
Regaining his senses, Soncco blew shrill blasts upon a trumpet, but it was some time before the confusion subsided. Judging by the sounds, the majority of the people were either kneeling or had fallen to the ground in their terror.
“You have seen and heard everything,” Stanley shouted at the top of his voice. “Now, what do you want? Choose between——”
His words were drowned in the clamor that went up.
“Kill Quizquiz and Villac Umu,” the thousands demanded, “and make the white man king. His companion shall be high priest. We ask nothing more than to be permitted to serve them as slaves for the remainder of our lives if they will but bring back the sunlight.”
It was with the greatest difficulty that Soncco again silenced them.
“It shall be as you say,” said Stanley. “But for the present let every one remain in his place. The sunlight will come back again, and so long as you obey my wishes no harm shall come to you. But if a single one of you betrays his pledge, worse things may happen.”