The King, in a crimson robe, accompanied by seven priests, took his place in the court and faced the line of the doomed. At the sound of another trumpet the singing ceased. An onyx pedestal was brought from the Temple and placed before the King. On the pedestal was a shallow basin of gold.
“Again the flashing dagger was raised in the air.”—Page [393].
At a given signal the lines of the doomed moved forward, keeping the right foot foremost, and again the chant of the multitude rose higher and higher, growing wilder and wilder, until the front rank of the victims was ranged before the King. He drew from his girdle a glittering dagger, that flashed in the sunlight when he held it aloft, as the doomed men and women thrust out their naked wrists over the golden basin. One swift stroke severed the main artery and the goat-skin bag was instantly drawn up and tied above the wound, scarcely a drop of blood falling into the shallow golden vessel on the pedestal.
Again the flashing dagger was raised in the air as two members of each victim’s family stepped from the throng and assisted the doomed into the chariot which stood waiting. On the faces of the vast throng no horror was depicted, but rather the intent look of serious and solemn interest. Even upon the faces of the victims a beatified look of hopeful expectancy, was the only evidence that they were not to mingle again with their fellow-men, in the duties and pleasures of the Land of On.
For a time Enola was enabled to keep her face turned away from the actual sight of the massacre, but under the influence of that wonderful music, she at last stole one brief glance at the King as the gleaming knife crossed the wrist of a victim, and from that time until the long procession had passed the pedestal of death, she was held as if by the glittering eyes of a serpent.
As the last man received his death-thrust, the King dropped the knife into the basin, and holding aloft both hands, intoned the words of the ceremony which were supposed to justify the deeds of the day, and speed the departing souls into the sublimity of the hereafter. At last Mr. Bruce exclaimed hoarsely:
“It is over!” and he looked up just in time to see Enola fall fainting into Harry’s arms. She was immediately borne to her apartments and was soon revived. As the men left the terrace, there was not a sign to show that the day had been one of dreadful tragedies. No drop of blood, no confusion. Simply the orderly dispersing of the multitude engaged in low-toned conversation.
All now met in Mr. Bruce’s rooms and breathlessly awaited Sedai’s arrival. The news which he would bring from the stables would decide how much or how little of hope they might have, for effecting an escape before Onrai should come.
Suddenly the curtain stirred and Sedai’s face appeared. He beckoned to them to follow, and noiselessly they crossed the starlit terrace and entered the garden. Here they found Ephmer and Shal awaiting them with zebras. Enola was about to mount her zebra when she heard a peculiar cry, and turning she saw the great white body of Gip looming up in the half light and coming toward her.