A moment longer they watched the strange, shadowy pair. Then a cloud, drifting in from the sea, hid the face of the moon and all was shrouded in darkness.
At that precise moment the drum beats ceased. Silence and darkness hung about them like a shroud.
“He is gone,” said Pompee. His tone was deep. “He will return. It is a sign.”
“A sign of what?” Dorn asked.
“How should I know? I am but a poor old man. I am not a Papa Lou.”
For some time they sat there in silence. Then Dorn said in a quiet tone:
“Pompee, tell me of the Magic Telescope.”
“There is much to tell, my son.” Pompee’s tone too was quiet now. “But I will tell you a little. When the great Christophe came to be our ruler, men were in the habit of sleeping much in the sun. The fields were neglected. Weeds and jungle were everywhere and people were very poor.
“Christophe was a great worker. He was not always a tyrant. In the beginning he loved his people and dreamed great dreams for them. It was only when the love of power and gold had driven out his love of God and the toiling people that he became a tyrant.
“At once, when he became emperor, he decreed that all men should work certain hours every day, except on holidays and Sundays. That this decree might surely be put into execution he bought himself a great, brass telescope. This, a brown boy from the hills always carried after the emperor. Many days the emperor wandered far over the hills and the mountains. Always the boy and the telescope went with him.