Calaman appeared not to notice all this disturbance. But there is no doubt that he knew all about it, and privately resolved to punish Mr. Garvan in his own good time.
“You have shown me things, white man,” he purred, in his mildest manner as he turned to Nick Carter. “Now I will show you that which none of your race have seen before. Follow me!”
In a low tone he gave instructions to the captain of his guard. At once a number of them formed into column and marched on ahead, while a few remained behind, as bodyguard for the priest.
“Come!” requested Calaman.
As the little party of strangers marched through the streets behind their priestly conductor, Nick Carter noticed that there was some sort of suppressed excitement among the teeming populace.
Angry murmurs arose, and now and again stones and garbage were flung from somewhere.
At first Nick and his companions thought the missiles were intended for them. Soon, however, they saw that they were mistaken.
From a house on their right there suddenly dashed a man, naked to the waist, who was brandishing a short, heavy-bladed sword, and who seemed to be frantic with fury.
With a shriek of rage, he flew at the captain of the guard, and, with one slashing cut, killed the man.
That was not all. He swept right and left with his formidable sword, and down went two more soldiers.