Abraham, the son of Abraham, stood at the foot of the towering cliff
that is the wall of the mighty crater of a long extinct volcano. Behind
and above him were the dwellings of his people, carved from the soft
volcanic ash that rose from the bottom of the crater part way up the
encircling cliffs; and clustered about him were the men and women and
children of his tribe.
One and all, they stood with faces raised toward the heavens, upon
each countenance reflected the particular emotion that the occasion
evoked--wonder, questioning, fear, and always rapt, tense listening,
for from the low clouds hanging but a few hundred feet above the rim
of the great crater, the floor of which stretched away for fully five
miles to its opposite side, came a strange, ominous droning sound, the
like of which not one of them had ever heard before.
The sound grew in volume until it seemed to hover just above them,
filling all the heavens with its terrifying threat; and then it
diminished gradually until it was only a suggestion of a sound that
might have been no more than a persistent memory rumbling in their
heads; and when they thought that it had gone it grew again in volume
until once it thundered down upon them where they stood in terror or in
ecstasy, as each interpreted the significance of the phenomenon.
And upon the opposite side of the crater a similar group, actuated by
identical fears and questionings, clustered about Elija, the son of
Noah.
In the first group a woman turned to Abraham, the son of Abraham. "What
is it, Father?" she asked. "I am afraid."
"Those who trust in the Lord," replied the man, "know no fear. You have
revealed the wickedness of your heresy, woman."
The face of the questioner blenched and now, indeed, did she tremble.
"Oh, Father, you know that I am no heretic!" she cried piteously.
"Silence, Martha!" commanded Abraham. "Perhaps this is the Lord
Himself, come again to earth as was prophesied in the days of Paul, to
judge us all." His voice was high and shrill, and he trembled as he
spoke.
A half grown child, upon the outskirts of the assemblage, fell to the
ground, where he writhed, foaming at the mouth. A woman screamed and
fainted.
"Oh, Lord, if it is indeed Thee, Thy chosen people await to receive Thy
blessing and Thy commands," prayed Abraham; "but," he added, "if it is
not Thee, we beseech that Thou savest us whole from harm."
"Perhaps it is Gabriel!" suggested another of the long bearded men.
"And the sound of his trump," wailed a woman--"the trump of doom!"
"Silence!" shrilled Abraham, and the woman shrank back in fear.
Unnoticed, the youth floundered and gasped for breath as, with eyes
set as in death, he struggled in the throes of agony; and then another
lurched and fell and he, too, writhed and foamed.
And now they were dropping on all sides--some in convulsions and others
in deathlike faints--until a dozen or more sprawled upon the ground,
where their pitiable condition elicited no attention from their
fellows unless a stricken one chanced to fall against a neighbor or
upon his feet, in which case the latter merely stepped aside without
vouchsafing so much as a glance at the poor unfortunate.
With few exceptions those who suffered the violent strokes were men and
boys, while it was the women who merely fainted; but whether man, woman
or child, whether writhing in convulsions or lying quietly in coma, no
one paid the slightest attention to any of them. As to whether this
seeming indifference was customary, or merely induced by the excitement
and apprehension of the moment, as they stood with eyes, ears, and
minds focused on the clouds above them, only a closer acquaintance
with these strange people may enlighten us.
Once more the terrifying sound, swollen to hideous proportions, swept
toward them; it seemed to stop above them for a moment and then--
Out of the clouds floated a strange apparition--a terrifying thing--a
great, white thing above, below which there swung to and fro a tiny
figure. At sight of it, dropping gently toward them, a dozen of the
watchers collapsed, frothing, in convulsions.
Abraham, the son of Abraham, dropped to his knees, raising his hands
in supplication toward the heavens. His people, those of them who were
still upon their feet, followed his example. From his lips issued a
torrent of strange sounds--a prayer perhaps, but if so not in the same
language as that in which he had previously spoken to his people nor
in any language known to man, and as he prayed, his followers knelt in
terrified silence.
Closer and closer floated the mysterious apparition until, at length,
expectant eyes recognized in the figure floating beneath the small,
white cloud the outlines of a human form.
A great cry arose as recognition spread--a cry that was a mingling of
terror born wail and ecstatic hosanna. Abraham was among the last to
recognize the form of the dangling figure for what it was, or, perhaps,
among the last to admit the testimony of his eyes. When he did he
toppled to the ground, his muscles twitching and jerking his whole
body into horrid contortions, his eyes rolled upward and set as in
death, his breath expelled in painful gasps between lips flecked with
foam.
Abraham, the son of Abraham, never an Adonis, was at this moment
anything but a pretty sight; but no one seemed to notice him any more
than they had the score or more of lesser creatures who had succumbed
to the nervous excitation of the experiences of the past half hour.
Some five hundred people, men, women and children, of which thirty,
perhaps, lay quietly or writhed in convulsions upon the ground, formed
the group of watchers toward which Lady Barbara Collis gently floated.
As she landed in, if the truth must be told (and we historians are
proverbially truthful, except when we are chronicling the lives of our
national heroes, or living rulers within whose grasp we may be, or of
enemy peoples with whom our country has been at war, and upon other
occasions)--but, as I was recording, as Lady Barbara landed in an
awkward sprawl within a hundred yards of the assemblage all those who
had remained standing up to this time went down upon their knees.
Hastily scrambling to her feet, the girl disengaged the harness of
her parachute and stood gazing in perplexity upon the scene about
her. A quick glance had revealed the towering cliffs that formed the
encircling walls of the gigantic crater, though at the time she did not
suspect the true nature of the valley spreading before her. It was the
people who claimed her surprised attention.
They were white! In the heart of Africa she had landed in the midst
of a settlement of whites. But this thought did not wholly reassure
her. There was something strange and unreal about these prone and
kneeling figures; but at least they did not appear ferocious or
unfriendly--their attitudes, in fact, were quite the opposite, and she
saw no evidence of weapons among them.
She approached them, and, as she did so, many of them began to wail and
press their faces against the ground, while others raised their hands
in supplication--some toward the heavens and others toward her.
She was close enough now to see their features and her heart sank
within her, for she had never conceived the existence of an entire
village of people of such unprepossessing appearance, and Lady Barbara
was one of those who are strongly impressed by externals.
The men were particularly repulsive. Their long hair and beards seemed
as little acquainted with soap, water and combs as with shears and
razors.
There were two features that impressed her most strongly and
unfavorably--the huge noses and receding chins of practically the
entire company. The noses were so large as to constitute a deformity,
while in many of those before her, chins were almost non-existent.
And then she saw two things that had diametrically opposite effects
upon her--the scores of epileptics writhing upon the ground and a
singularly beautiful, golden-haired girl who had risen from the
prostrate herd and was slowly approaching her, a questioning look in
her large grey eyes.
Lady Barbara Collis looked the girl full in the eyes and smiled, and
when Lady Barbara smiled stone crumbled before the radiant vision of
her face--or so a poetic and enthralled admirer had once stated in her
hearing. The fact that he lisped, however, had prejudiced her against
his testimony.
The girl returned the smile with one almost as gorgeous, but quickly
erased it from her features, at the same time glancing furtively about
her as though fearful that some one had detected her in the commission
of a crime; but when Lady Barbara extended both her hands toward her,
she came forward and placed her own within the grasp of the English
girl's.
"Where am I?" asked Lady Barbara. "What country is this? Who are these
people?"
The girl shook her head. "Who are you?" she asked. "Are you an angel
that the Lord God of Hosts has sent to His chosen people?"
It was now the turn of Lady Barbara to shake her head to evidence her
inability to understand the language of the other.
An old man with a long white beard arose and came toward them, having
seen that the apparition from Heaven had not struck the girl dead for
her temerity.
"Get thee gone, Jezebel!" cried the old man to the girl. "How durst
thou address this Heavenly visitor?"
The girl stepped back, dropping her head; and though Lady Barbara had
understood no word that the man spoke, his tone and gesture, together
with the action of the girl, told her what had transpired between them.
She thought quickly. She had realized the impression that her
miraculous appearance had made upon these seemingly ignorant people,
and she guessed that their subsequent attitude toward her would be
governed largely by the impression of her first acts; and being
English, she held to the English tradition of impressing upon lesser
people the authority of her breed. It would never do, therefore, to let
this unkempt patriarch order the girl from her if Lady Barbara chose
to retain her; and, after glancing at the faces about her, she was
quite sure that if she must choose a companion from among them the fair
haired beauty would be her nominee.
With an imperious gesture, and a sinking heart, she stepped forward and
took the girl by the arm, and, as the latter turned a surprised glance
upon her, drew her to her side.
"Remain with me," she said, although she knew her words were
unintelligible to the girl.
"What did she say, Jezebel?" demanded the old man.
The girl was about to reply that she did not know, but something
stopped her. Perhaps the very strangeness of the question gave her
pause, for it must have been obvious to the old man that the stranger
spoke in a tongue unknown to him and, therefore, unknown to any of them.
She thought quickly, now. Why should he ask such a question unless he
might entertain a belief that she might have understood? She recalled
the smile that the stranger had brought to her lips without her
volition, and she recalled, too, that the old man had noted it.
The girl called Jezebel knew the price of a smile in the land of
Midian, where any expression of happiness is an acknowledgment of sin;
and so, being a bright girl among a people who were almost uniformly
stupid, she evolved a ready answer in the hope that it might save her
from punishment.
She looked the ancient one straight in the eye. "She said, Jobab," she
replied, "that she cometh from Heaven with a message for the chosen
people and that she will deliver the message through me and through no
other."
Now much of this statement had been suggested to Jezebel by the
remarks of the elders and the apostles as they had watched the strange
apparition descending from the clouds and had sought to find some
explanation for the phenomenon. In fact, Jobab himself had volunteered
the very essence of this theory and was, therefore, the more ready to
acknowledge belief in the girl's statement.
Lady Barbara stood with an arm about the slim shoulders of the golden
haired Jezebel, her shocked gaze encompassing the scene before her--the
degraded, unkempt people huddled stupidly before her, the inert forms
of those who had fainted, the writhing contortions of the epileptics.
With aversion she appraised the countenance of Jobab, noting the watery
eyes, the huge monstrosity of his nose, the long, filthy beard that
but half concealed his weak chin. With difficulty she stemmed the
involuntary shudder that was her natural nervous reaction to the sight
before her.
Jobab stood staring at her, an expression of awe on his stupid,
almost imbecile face. From the crowd behind him several other old men
approached, almost fearfully, halting just behind him. Jobab looked
back over his shoulder. "Where is Abraham, the son of Abraham?" he
demanded.
"He still communeth with Jehovah," replied one of the ancients.
"Perhaps even now Jehovah revealeth to him the purpose of his
visitation," suggested another hopefully.
"She hath brought a message," said Jobab, "and she will deliver it only
through the girl called Jezebel. I wish Abraham, the son of Abraham,
was through communing with Jehovah," he added; but Abraham, the son of
Abraham, still writhed upon the ground, foaming at the mouth.
"Verily," said another old man, "if this be indeed a messenger from
Jehovah let us not stand thus idly staring, lest we arouse the anger of
Jehovah, that he bring a plague upon us, even of flies or of lice."
"Thou speaketh true words, Timothy," agreed Jobab, and, turning to the
crowd behind them; "Get thee hence quickly and fetch offerings that may
be good in the sight of Jehovah, each in accordance with his ability."
Stupidly the assemblage turned away toward the caves and hovels that
constituted the village, leaving the small knot of ancients facing Lady
Barbara and the golden Jezebel and, upon the ground, the stricken ones,
some of whom were evidencing symptoms of recovery from their seizures.
Once again a feeling of revulsion gripped the English girl as she noted
the features and carriages of the villagers. Almost without exception
they were disfigured by enormous noses and chins so small and receding
that in many instances the chin seemed to be lacking entirely. When
they walked they ordinarily leaned forward, giving the impression that
they were upon the verge of pitching headlong upon their faces.
Occasionally among them appeared an individual whose countenance
suggested a much higher mentality than that possessed by the general
run of the villagers, and without exception these had blond hair, while
the hair of all the others was black.
So striking was this phenomenon that Lady Barbara could not but note
it almost in her first brief survey of these strange creatures, yet
she was never to discover an indisputable explanation, for there was
none to tell her of Angustus and the fair-haired slave girl from some
barbarian horde of the north, none who knew that Angustus had had a
large nose, a weak chin and epilepsy, none to guess the splendid mind
and the radiant health of the little slave girl, dead now for almost
nineteen centuries, whose blood, even now, arose occasionally above
the horrid decadence of all those long years of enforced inbreeding to
produce such a creature as Jezebel in an effort, however futile, to
stem the tide of degeneracy.
Lady Barbara wondered now why the people had gone to their
dwellings--what did it portend? She looked at the old men who had
remained behind; but their stupid, almost imbecile faces revealed
nothing. Then she turned to the girl. How she wished that they might
understand one another. She was positive that the girl was actively
friendly, but she could not be so sure of these others. Everything
about them repelled her, and she found it impossible to have confidence
in their intentions toward her.
But how different was the girl! She, too, doubtless, was an alien
among them; and that fact gave the English girl hope, for she had seen
nothing to indicate that the golden-haired one was being threatened or
mistreated; and at least she was alive and uninjured. Yes, she must be
of another breed. Her simple, and scant, apparel, fabricated apparently
from vegetable fibre, was clean, as were those parts of her body
exposed to view, while the garments of all the others, especially the
old men, were filthy beyond words, as were their hair and beards and
every portion of their bodies not concealed by the mean garments that
scarce half covered their nakedness.
As the old men whispered among themselves, Lady Barbara turned slowly
to look about her in all directions. She saw precipitous cliffs
completely hemming a small circular valley, near the center of which
was a lake. Nowhere could she see any indication of a break in the
encircling walls that rose hundreds of feet above the floor of the
valley; and yet she felt that there must be an entrance from the outer
world, else how had these people gained entrance?
Her survey suggested that the valley lay at the bottom of the crater
of a great volcano, long extinct, and if that were true the path to
the outer world must cross the summit of those lofty walls; yet these
appeared, insofar as she could see, utterly unscalable. But how account
for the presence of these people? The problem vexed her, but she knew
that it must remain unsolved until she had determined the attitude
of the villagers and discovered whether she were to be a guest or a
prisoner.
Now the villagers were returning, and she saw that many of them carried
articles in their hands. They came slowly, timidly nearer her,
exhorted by the ancients, until at her feet they deposited the burdens
they had carried--bowls of cooked food, raw vegetables and fruits,
fish, and pieces of the fibre cloth such as that from which their crude
garments were fabricated, the homely offerings of a simple people.
As they approached her many of them displayed symptoms of great
nervousness and several sank to the ground, victims of the convulsive
paroxysms that marked the seizures to which so many of them appeared to
be subject.
To Lady Barbara it appeared that these simple folk were either bringing
gifts attesting their hospitality or were offering their wares, in
barter, to the stranger within their gates; nor did the truth once
occur to her at the moment--that the villagers were, in fact, making
votive offerings to one they believed the messenger of God, or even,
perhaps, a goddess in her own right. When, after depositing their
offerings at her feet, they turned and hastened away, the simple
faces of some evidencing fear caused her to abandon the idea that the
goods were offered for sale; and she determined that, if not gifts of
hospitality, they might easily be considered as tribute to appease the
wrath of a potential enemy.
Abraham, the son of Abraham, had regained consciousness. Slowly he
raised himself to a sitting position and looked about him. He was very
weak. He always was after these seizures. It required a minute or two
before he could collect his wits and recall the events immediately
preceding the attack. He saw the last of those bringing offerings to
Lady Barbara deposit them at her feet. He saw the stranger. And then he
recalled the strange droning that had come out of the heavens and the
apparition that he had seen floating down toward them.
Abraham, the son of Abraham, arose. It was Jobab, among the ancients,
who saw him first. "Hallelujah!" he exclaimed. "Abraham, the son of
Abraham, walketh no longer with Jehovah. He hath returned to our midst.
Let us pray!" Whereupon the entire assemblage, with the exception of
Lady Barbara and the girl called Jezebel, dropped to its knees. Among
them, Abraham, the son of Abraham, moved slowly, as though in a trance,
toward the stranger, his mind still lethargic from the effects of his
seizure. About him arose a strange, weird babel as the ancients prayed
aloud without concord or harmony, interrupted by occasional cries of
"Hallelujah" and "Amen."
Tall and thin, with a long grey beard still flecked with foam and
saliva, his scant robe ragged and filthy, Abraham, the son of Abraham,
presented a most repulsive appearance to the eyes of the English girl
as, at last, he stopped before her.
Now his mind was clearing rapidly, and as he halted he seemed to note
the presence of the girl Jezebel, for the first time. "What doest thou
here, wanton?" he demanded. "Why art thou not upon thy knees praying
with the others?"
Lady Barbara was watching the two closely. She noted the stern and
accusing attitude and tones of the man, and she saw the appealing
glance that the girl cast toward her. Instantly she threw an arm about
the latter's shoulder. "Remain here!" she said, for she feared that the
man was ordering the girl to leave her.
If Jezebel did not understand the words of the strange, heavenly
visitor, she could not mistake the detaining gesture; and, anyway, she
did not wish to join the others in prayer. Perhaps it was only that she
might cling a few brief minutes longer to the position of importance to
which the incident had elevated her out of a lifetime of degradation
and contempt to which her strange inheritance of beauty had condemned
her.
And so, nerved by the pressure of the arm about her, she faced Abraham,
the son of Abraham, resolutely, although, withal, a trifle fearfully,
since who knew better than she what a terrible man Abraham, the son of
Abraham, might become when crossed by anyone.
"Answer me, thou--thou--" Abraham, the son of Abraham, could not find
an epithet sufficiently excoriating to meet the emergency.
"Let not thy anger blind thee to the will of Jehovah," warned the girl.
"What meanest thou?" he demanded.
"Canst thou not see that His messenger hath chosen me to be her
mouthpiece?"
"What sacrilege is this, woman?"
"It is no sacrilege," she replied sturdily. "It is the will of Jehovah,
and if thou believest me not, ask Jobab, the apostle."
Abraham, the son of Abraham, turned to where the ancients prayed.
"Jobab!" he cried in a voice that arose above the din of prayer.
Instantly the devotions ceased with a loud "Amen!" from Jobab. The
old men arose, their example being followed by those others of the
villagers who were not held earth-bound by epilepsy; and Jobab, the
apostle, approached the three who were now the goal of every eye.
"What transpired while I walked with Jehovah?" demanded Abraham, the
son of Abraham.
"There came this messenger from heaven," replied Jobab, "and we did her
honor, and the people brought offerings, each according to his ability,
and laid them at her feet, and she did not seem displeased--nor either
did she seem pleased," he added. "And more than this we knew not what
to do."
"But this daughter of Satan!" cried Abraham, the son of Abraham. "What
of her?"
"Verily I say unto you that she speaks with the tongue of Jehovah,"
replied Jobab, "for He hath chosen her to be the mouthpiece of His
messenger."
"Jehovah be praised," said Abraham, the son of Abraham; "the ways of
the Almighty passeth understanding." He turned now to Jezebel, but when
he spoke there was a new note in his tones--a conciliatory note--and,
perhaps, not a little of fear in his eyes. "Beseech the messenger to
look upon us poor servants of Jehovah with mercy and forgiveness; beg
of her that she open her mouth to us poor sinners and divulge her
wishes. We await her message, trembling and fearful in the knowledge of
our unworthiness."
Jezebel turned to Lady Barbara.
"But wait!" cried Abraham, the son of Abraham, as a sudden questioning
doubt assailed his weak mind, "How can you converse with her? You speak
only the language of the land of Midian. Verily, if thou canst speak
with her, why may not I, the Prophet of Paul, the son of Jehovah?"
Jezebel had a brain worth fifty such brains as that possessed by the
Prophet of Paul; and now she used it to advantage, though, if the truth
were known, not without some misgivings as to the outcome of her rash
proposal, for, although she had a bright and resourceful mind, she
was none the less the ignorant child of an ignorant and superstitious
people.
"Thou hast a tongue, Prophet," she said. "Speak thou then to the
messenger of Jehovah, and if she answers thee in a language of the land
of Midian thou canst understand her as well as I."
"That," said Abraham, the son of Abraham, "is scarce less than an
inspiration."
"A miracle!" exclaimed Jobab. "Jehovah must have put the words in her
mouth."
"I shall address the messenger," said the Prophet. "O angel of light!"
he cried, turning toward Lady Barbara, "look with compassion upon an
old man, upon Abraham, the son of Abraham, the Prophet of Paul, the son
of Jehovah, and deign to make known to him the wishes of Him who sent
you to us."
Lady Barbara shook her head. "There is something that one does when
one is embarrassed," she said. "I have read it repeatedly in the
advertising sections of American periodicals, but I haven't that brand.
However, any port in a storm," and she extracted a gold cigarette case
from a pocket of her jacket and lighted one of the cigarettes.
"What didst she say, Jezebel?" demanded the Prophet--"and, in the name
of Paul, what miracle is this? 'Out of his nostrils goeth smoke' is
said of the behemoth of holy writ. What can be the meaning of this?"
"It is a warning," said Jezebel, "because thou didst doubt my words."
"Nay, nay," exclaimed Abraham, the son of Abraham, "I doubted thee not.
Tell her that I did not doubt thee, and then tell me what she said."
"She said," replied Jezebel, "that Jehovah is not pleased with thee or
thy people. He is angry because thou so mistreat Jezebel. His anger is
terrible because thou dost make her work beyond her strength, nor give
her the best food, and that thou dost punish her when she would laugh
and be happy."
"Tell her," said the Prophet, "that we knew not that thou were
overworked and that we shall make amends. Tell her that we lovest thee
and thou shalt have the best of food. Speak to her, O Jezebel, and ask
if she has further commands for her poor servants."
Jezebel looked into the eyes of the English girl, and upon her
countenance rested an expression of angelic guilelessness, while
from her lips issued a stream of meaningless jargon which was as
unintelligible to Jezebel as to Lady Barbara or the listening villagers
of the land of Midian.
"My dear child," said Lady Barbara, when Jezebel eventually achieved a
period, "what you say is as Greek to me, but you are very beautiful and
your voice is musical. I am sorry that you can understand me no better
than I understand you."
"What saith she?" demanded Abraham, the son of Abraham.
"She says that she is tired and hungry and that she wishes the
offerings brought by the people to be taken to a cave--a clean
cave--and that I accompany her and that she be left in peace, as she is
tired and would rest; and she wishes no one but Jezebel to be with her."
Abraham, the son of Abraham, turned to Jobab. "Send women to make
clean the cave next to mine," he commanded, "and have others carry the
offerings to the cave, as well as clean grasses for a bed."
"For two beds," Jezebel corrected him.
"Yea, even for two beds," agreed the Prophet, hastily.
And so Lady Barbara and Jezebel were installed in a well renovated
cave near the bottom of the cliff, with food enough to feed a numerous
company. The English girl stood at the entrance to her strange, new
abode looking out across the valley as she sought to evolve some plan
whereby she might get word of her predicament and her whereabouts
to the outside world. In another twenty-four hours she knew the
apprehension of her friends and her family would be aroused and soon
many an English plane would be roaring over the Cape to Cairo route in
search of her, and, as she pondered her unfortunate situation, the girl
called Jezebel lay in luxurious idleness upon her bed of fresh grasses
and ate from a pile of fruit near her hand, the while a happy smile of
contentment illumed her lovely countenance.
The shadows of night were already falling, and Lady Barbara turned
back into the cave with but a single practical idea evolved from all
her thinking--that she must find the means to communicate with these
people, nor could she escape the conviction that only by learning their
language might this be accomplished.
As darkness came and chill night air replaced the heat of the day,
Jezebel kindled a fire at the mouth of the cave. Near it the two girls
sat upon a soft cushion of grass, the firelight playing upon their
faces, and there the Lady Barbara commenced the long and tedious task
of mastering a new language. The first step consisted in making Jezebel
understand what she desired to accomplish, but she was agreeably
astonished at the celerity with which the girl grasped the idea. Soon
she was pointing to various objects, calling them by their English
names and Jezebel was naming them in the language of the land of Midian.
Lady Barbara would repeat the word in the Midian language several
times until she had mastered the pronunciation, and she noticed that,
similarly, Jezebel was repeating its English equivalent. Thus was
Jezebel acquiring an English vocabulary while she taught the Midian to
her guest.
An hour passed while they occupied their time with their task. The
village lay quiet about them. Faintly, from the distant lake, came the
subdued chorus of the frogs. Occasionally a goat bleated somewhere out
in the darkness. Far away, upon the opposite side of the valley, shone
tiny, flickering lights--the cooking fires of another village, thought
Lady Barbara.
A man, bearing a lighted torch, appeared suddenly, coming from a
nearby cave. In low, monotonous tones he voiced a chant. Another man,
another torch, another voice joined him. And then came others until a
procession wound down toward the level ground below the caves.
Gradually the voices rose. A child screamed. Lady Barbara saw it now--a
small child being dragged along by an old man.
Now the procession encircled a large boulder and halted, but the
chanting did not cease, nor did the screaming of the child. Tall among
the others Lady Barbara recognized the figure of the man who had last
interrogated her. Abraham, the son of Abraham, the Prophet, stood
behind the boulder that rose waist high in front of him. He raised his
open palm and the chanting ceased. The child had ceased to scream, but
its broken sobs came clearly to the ears of the two girls.
Abraham, the son of Abraham, commenced to speak, his eyes raised
toward the heaven. His voice came monotonously across the little span
of darkness. His grotesque features were lighted by the flickering
torches that played as well upon the equally repulsive faces of his
congregation.
Unaccountably, the entire scene assumed an aspect of menace in the
eyes of the English girl. Apparently it was only the simple religious
service of a simple people and yet, to Barbara Collis, there was
something terrible about it, something that seemed fraught with horror.
She glanced at Jezebel. The girl was sitting cross legged, her elbows
on her knees, her chin supported in the palms of her hands, staring
straight ahead. There was no smile now upon her lips.
Suddenly the air was rent by a childish scream of fear and horror that
brought the Lady Barbara's gaze back to the scene below. She saw the
child, struggling and fighting, dragged to the top of the boulder; she
saw Abraham, the son of Abraham, raise a hand above his head; she saw
the torchlight play upon a knife; and then she turned away and hid her
face in her hands.