A pale ghost of a “Thank God!” fell from my lips; then I set about undoing the voice-and-poison spell.
“Kahikatea!” I said; “my voice is the only thing; you are yourself again; wake up! you can let go.”
His fingers relaxed, and the wizard corpse fell in a huddled heap upon the floor. Kahikatea turned to me with a look of amazement on his face.
“What happened?” he said; “I felt my senses going when I heard you shout ‘Kill him! you cannot let go!’ and then I seemed to be spending a long lifetime in strangling him with all my strength.”
As briefly as possible I explained the strange action of the wizard’s poison and the power of the first will that came into possession by means of the voice. I had not finished when, at a sound from the darkness in the direction of the lower tunnel, I suddenly broke off, and we both faced round to listen. Again the sound came to our ears; it was the soft splash of water against the rocks. I advanced with the blazing wood in my finger tips, and saw with dismay that the flood was rapidly rising in the tunnel. It was already within ten yards of where we stood, and was encroaching visibly.
I turned to Kahikatea. “Quick!” I cried; “all the outlets are closed, and the place is filling. Up through the tunnels to the marble cave. I will follow.”
He turned and tenderly lifted the body of the Bright One in his arms; then, taking up a fragment of burning wood, he proceeded into the tunnel which led up into the marble cave. I remained, and dragged the body of the Vile Thing of Darkness towards the breast-high barrier upon which the lever had rested as on a fulcrum. Then, raising my burden above my head, I heaved it into the gulf that yawned on the other side. Something of the triumphant feelings of Ngaraki, when he had hurled the Vile Tohunga’s head down to Porawa, came over me as I listened, fancying that I should hear that wild laugh again echoing from the depths of Darkness. But there was no reply; the Poisoner had gone down for ever.
I was aroused by the wash of the water rising on the rocks where I stood. Even as I sprang forward and caught up another blazing fragment, the tide surged in and swamped the fire with a quick hiss. I darted into the tunnel with the waves lapping at my heels, and followed Kahikatea.
When I reached the marble cave I stood and surveyed the scene before me with feelings of regret, dismay, and despair. A great slab of stone had slid down in the grooves that I had noticed on each side of the opening, and the place was closed even to the moon and stars; but what called up all my grief afresh was a thing of which I had been convinced ever since I left the cave to find Hinauri. The marble statue no longer stood in the centre of the cave with its arms outstretched. There, on the floor, broken and shattered, were the fragments of the lovely image which Miriam Grey, as a sculptress, had hewn out of the sacred stone; and there, a little beyond, lying upon a soft Maori mat, was the still cold form of the lovely spirit which she, as a mother, had led out of the distant past.
As I made my way among the fragments, I picked up the golden circlet, and, bending down, gently placed it upon Hinauri’s brow. At once the prophecy came to my mind—the prophecy she had read after solemnly identifying herself with the statue: “Thou, Hia, shalt return at the dawn of a new age, but ere the sun shall have shone twice upon this, thy crown, thou shalt withdraw into the sky.”