“She has awakened but her mind is gone; she is mad.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
ONRAI VISITS THE PRIEST.
Onrai hurried on to the city. At frequent intervals on his journey he met couriers from the city, all hurrying to give him the details of new discoveries of the storm’s devastation. The track of the tempest, as he now followed it, so shortly after its fearful advent, showed ruin and death everywhere. But so far no loss of human life had been reported and the King felt more than thankful for this. As the inhabitants would meet the King, they would look at him in the same wondering way as they had at the storm the night before, they were evidently seeking an explanation from their King, of the phenomenon. When they did ask him why such ruin had overtaken them, he would invariably answer by saying that there was sin among them. Then they would look one at the other as if wondering, if it were he or she who was guilty.
Arriving at the city, he found the populace awaiting him. On all previous occasions when Onrai had been away from the city for a season, upon his return the people had been glad to see him and had met him at the city limits with harps and glad songs. But now they stood and looked with no joy in their faces; but this was easy to account for. The people had never before in their lives had one little thing to occur to disturb the even tenor of their existence. Their lives were simply one long, happy or perfectly contented existence, they knowing no pains or sorrows.
The seasons came and went, each occupying just so many months, never varying greatly one from the other, for it was perpetual spring in this delightful country. But at one season more rain fell than at another, and for several months of each year rain never fell. Severe storms were very infrequent and such storms as the one of the night previous had never been known before. And this had happened right in the middle of the dry season. It was not so much this latter fact probably which made the people wonder, as it was the death and ruin which it left in its wake. This the people could not understand, for life to them was a sacred thing, even those animals of a meat-serving kind, never being allowed to be killed wantonly, or where there was no use in the slaughter. Why had the poor dumb beasts been killed in this way? There was a world of inquiry in their looks as they stood perfectly still, and saw the King pass.
But Onrai heeded them not. He hurried on past the great square and up the broad avenue to the Temple, where the head priest was awaiting him, and as the King drew up, the priest approached him, saying, “You have come, oh King. Throughout the night I have prayed for you and those with you. You are safe, God be praised,” and taking Onrai by the hand he led him into the Temple.
“It was your prayers then which brought us to shelter before the storm overtook us,” said the King. “But tell me, you who know all of the sacred writings, what has caused this death-dealing and destroying storm. I can only believe that our people are sinning. Tell me, do you not think this so?”
“I have made research, knowing that both you, King, and the people would want to know the cause of the storm, and I too have wished to learn the reason. I find among the sacred writings words admonishing us to do right at all times and if laws were broken and the inhabitants of this great Land of On treated lightly, the commands laid down for their good and prosperity, they would be made to suffer in such ways as God would devise. I also find that God will give warning to the good of coming events. I do not know what to think, but I hardly believe that our good people are sinning.”
“Are there any motives which might make us break the laws?” asked the King.
“I think not,” answered the priest, and as he said this, he looked at the King and was surprised to see his face so pale. “No, it must be a warning,” he continued.