“I shall do all in my power,” and saying this, Ephmer led the way to the terrace where they found seats awaiting them.
The scene which now met the gaze of the adventurers was strange, yet grand. The populace thronged the court of the Temple, the garden, the avenues leading to it, and even the tops of the villas were crowded with the happy-looking people. Before many of the villas could be seen a square pile of wood about ten feet high. These had been placed during the night, and our friends could but wonder what part these played in the ceremonies of the day. Turning to Ephmer, Mr. Bruce asked:
“Why are these piles of wood placed before some villas and not before others?”
“In these villas with the biers before them, live the principal participants in to-day’s ceremonies,” answered Ephmer.
“What did you call these? Biers?” asked Mr. Bruce, with a puzzled look on his face.
“Yes,” answered Ephmer, “for on these are burned the bodies of those who have this day met their Day of Resis.”
“Burned? Day of Resis? Why, what do you mean, man?” asked Mr. Bruce, and they all looked at the man with troubled faces.
“Only this,” said Ephmer, “that all Onians who have reached the age of sixty-five, since this day last year, will to-day be put to death by the hand of the King.”
Our friends looked at the Onian, as he said this, with fearful wonderment depicted in their faces. Could it be that the man told the truth? Could this race of enlightened people do this thing?
“But why are these put to death?” asked Mr. Bruce, as soon as he could find his voice.