"Well, Dick," exclaimed Grosvenor, as the door was closed upon them and
they looked round them in the dim light percolating through the long,
narrow aperture in the wall which afforded their only supply of air and
illumination, "what is your present opinion of things in general?"
"Well," returned Dick reflectively, "the outstanding fact which
dominates all others is that we have actually penetrated to the very
heart of the mysterious country which our friend Mitchell predicted we
should never reach, and have therefore triumphantly accomplished the
chief object of our journey, despite all the difficulties that we have
encountered. For the rest, this cell, although it is somewhat lacking
in comfort and convenience as a dwelling, is at least clean, dry, and
pleasantly cool compared with the temperature outside. And--that is
about all I have to say on the matter at present, I think."
"Um!" retorted Grosvenor with a suspicion of peevishness in his voice;
"that is not very much. What do you think they mean to do with us?
That is what I am trying to get at. Of course I remember that the gist
of Mitchell's homily to us was: `Don't go, if you value your lives,
because those people don't like strangers.' But if a fellow seriously
considered a little matter like that, exploration would soon be a thing
of the past, for I've noticed that many of the johnnies whose countries
we have passed through haven't liked strangers. Yet we've contrived to
pull through all right thus far; and of course I have been hoping that
our luck would still hold good, and that when we arrived in this country
something would happen to enable us to create a favourable impression
upon the chappies, causing them to decide that we are the exceptions to
the general rule, and are worthy to be treated as honoured guests and
all that sort of thing--eh, what? But when I look round me and take in
the details of this apartment it seems to me that things have somehow
gone wrong; I can't help thinking that they must have a more comfortable
guest chamber than this somewhere in this old caravanserai--eh? What do
you think?"
"I have no doubt they have," returned Dick. "Yet they may consider this
quite good enough for us. But I am not going to worry very greatly just
yet, and I would recommend you not to do so either. It is true that so
far these folk have displayed a most lamentable and disconcerting lack
of appreciation of our many excellent qualities, but you must remember
that we have not had much opportunity for a display of those qualities
as yet. The opportunity will come no doubt, and when it does we will
just make our friends outside sit up--I don't quite know how, but we
will do it somehow. So cheer up, old chap; the fact that they have put
us in here instead of killing us at sight, so to speak, seems to suggest
to my mind the belief that, if they are displeased at our presence in
their country, they at least intend to give us some sort of a trial
before passing us on to the executioner."
"Oh, dash it all, old man, don't talk about executioners--!" began
Grosvenor, when he was interrupted by the opening of the cell door and a
man entered, bearing in one hand a pitcher of water, and in the other a
loaf of bread of liberal proportions on a wooden platter. These he
placed on the floor beside the prisoners, and was gone again before
Grosvenor could sufficiently pull his wits together to address him.
The food and drink were most acceptable, for the prisoners had taken no
refreshment since breakfast that morning, and the day was now drawing to
its close, as they could tell by the rapidly diminishing light that
percolated through their narrow window. They fell to upon the viands
forthwith, availing themselves of the last departing daylight to find
the food; and finally, after a little further desultory chat, in which
each did his best to make light of the situation, they disposed
themselves as comfortably as they could upon the floor, and sought such
rest as might be possible under the circumstances.
The night that followed was certainly not a pleasant one, for the floor
was hard, and sleep was shy of coming to them. With the first
glimmerings of daylight, therefore, the two prisoners arose, weary, sore
of body, and in a distinctly pessimistic frame of mind which found no
amelioration in the fact that hour after hour dragged its weary length
along, bringing neither visitors nor food, although the breakfast hour
had long passed. Noon arrived, and still no footstep approached the
door of their cell; and when at length their watches marked the hour of
three in the afternoon without the arrival of food, without even so much
as a visit from their jailer to ascertain whether or not all was well
with them, they began to ask themselves seriously whether by any chance
they had been forgotten.
The answer came about half an hour later when the door of their cell was
suddenly thrown open by the man who had locked them in on the previous
night, and who now gruffly summoned them to follow him.
They emerged from their place of confinement gladly enough--for they had
reached that stage of discomfort when one welcomes any change, even
though there should be a possibility that it may prove to be for the
worse--and were at once taken into custody by a handsomely attired
officer in command of ten soldiers who, armed with short, broad-bladed
spears, and each carrying a flaring torch, at once closed round them.
The word to march was given, and the party moved away along the
labyrinth of passages, turning hither and thither in the most
bewildering fashion, until at length they reached a narrow flight of
stone steps that wound upward, corkscrew fashion, until they emerged
into another passage which, after a journey of some fifty yards,
conducted them into a spacious and lofty hall lighted at either end by a
large window glazed with what, from the cursory glance which they
obtained of it, they judged to be talc, or some similar substance. A
number of passages led out of this hall, and down one of them the party
plunged, finally passing through a doorway into a spacious chamber,
lighted, like the hall, by large windows glazed with the talc-like
material already mentioned. There was a peculiarity about this chamber
that at once attracted the attention of the two young Englishmen, and it
was this: the wall opposite the door by which they had entered was
divided horizontally into two unequal parts, the lower and smaller of
the two being occupied by a grille of exquisitely fine carved work
executed in a kind of Greek pattern, while the upper compartment was
filled in with a window reaching right across from side to side of the
chamber, that threw a strong light right down upon the precise spot
where they were halted. As the two prisoners came to a standstill at
the word of command of the officer in charge of the party, the soldiers
formed themselves into a semicircle between their charges and the door,
and grounded their spears with a clank upon the black marble pavement,
while, although the room was apparently empty, save for themselves, the
officer advanced and, raising his spear in salute, exclaimed in a loud
voice, in the quasihebrew tongue which appeared to be the common
language of the people:
"Lords! the prisoners from afar are present."
"It is well," replied a deep, solemn voice from behind the grille, and
the two friends suddenly realised that they were about to be put upon
their trial for the offence of intruding where they were not wanted.
They both directed their gaze upon the grille with greatly enhanced
interest, striving to obtain a glimpse of the person or persons behind
it; but a space of at least twenty feet divided them from it, and at
that distance the interstices were too small to afford the faintest
glimpse of anyone on the other side. There was a pause of perhaps half
a minute, then the voice that had last spoken said:
"Let Benoni, the officer who arrested the strangers upon their arrival
in Izreel, be summoned to give his evidence."
The officer in charge of the prisoners stepped to the door, opened it,
spoke a few words to someone on the other side, apparently giving an
order, then closed the door again and returned to his former position in
the hall.
"Did you hear that, Dick--Benoni--Izreel? Don't those two names suggest
anything to you?" murmured Grosvenor behind his hand.
"N-o, I can't say that they do, except that they seem to be not
altogether unfamiliar to me," answered Dick in a like low murmur.
"Familiar!" ejaculated Grosvenor, incautiously raising his voice; "I
should think they are. Why--"
"Silence!" interposed the officer sternly, at this moment. Although
Grosvenor's eyes blazed at the insult, and he looked more than half-
inclined to forcibly resent it, he closed his lips with a fierce snap,
and obeyed the injunction, at the restraining touch of Dick's hand. A
moment later the officer who had brought them to the island entered,
and, closing the door behind him, advanced, saluting as he faced the
grille.
"Benoni," said the deep voice from behind the screen, "say what you know
concerning the strangers from afar whom ye yesterday brought across the
water to Bethalia!"
Again Benoni saluted. Then, facing toward the centre of the grille, he
proceeded to relate how, in consequence of intelligence brought to him
by runners from the frontier, he proceeded in search of the strangers,
and, having taken them, brought them to Bethalia, in accordance with the
general order providing for such a circumstance. Then he proceeded to
describe in some detail the journey, making mention of the wonderful
tubes that brought distant objects near, so long as one continued to
gaze through them; and, from that, passed on to describe in full the
incident of the infuriated buffalo, the consternation it had created
among the wayfarers upon the road along which it had charged, its
persistent pursuit of himself, the wonderful magic whereby the strangers
had slain the animal, from a distance, at the precise moment when it had
been about to toss him into the air; and how, finally, the younger
stranger of the two had insisted upon interrupting the journey to
succour the man who had been grievously hurt by the animal; adding that,
in obedience to orders received, he had early that morning proceeded to
the mainland to enquire into the condition of the injured man, whom, to
his amazement, he found to be making favourable progress toward
recovery. He spoke throughout in a clear, level voice, and seemed to be
concerned only to convey an absolutely truthful impression of everything
to his unseen audience behind the grille.
At the conclusion of Benoni's narrative a silence ensued, lasting for
nearly twenty minutes, broken only by a low sound suggestive of subdued
whispering behind the grille. At length, however, even this ceased, and
the silence became almost oppressive for the space of about another
half-minute. Then it was broken by the voice that had before spoken,
saying:
"White strangers, say now by what names are ye known?"
To which Grosvenor replied: "My name is Philip Eustace Meredith
Grosvenor; and that of my friend is Richard Maitland."
This statement was followed by another brief silence, when the unseen
speaker said:
"Philip Eustace Meredith Grosvenor and Richard Maitland," he boggled the
names a little, especially those of Grosvenor, "ye have entered the
country of the Izreelites uninvited, and without even asking permission
to do so. Had ye sought permission before crossing our border, it would
have been refused you, and ye would have been turned back and permitted
to depart in peace. But to enter this land uninvited, and without
obtaining permission, is against our law, and the punishment for the
offence is the Slow Death!"
Here the speaker made an impressive pause, as though to allow the
statement to be thoroughly absorbed by the understanding of those most
intimately concerned. Then he resumed:
"But we learn from the officer Benoni, who brought you hither, that
since entering our country ye have saved the lives of two men; and since
men's lives are more valuable to the Izreelites than aught else, we have
decided to mitigate your punishment to this extent: ye shall live, if ye
will, upon condition that ye swear never to attempt to leave the country
without the royal assent, and to devote yourselves henceforth to the
service of Izreel in such manner as ye may be directed. Say now,
therefore, will ye accept life, with the condition attached to the gift;
or will ye go forth from hence to die the Slow Death?"
This speech Grosvenor carefully translated to Dick, finishing up by
asking:
"What answer shall I give the Johnnie, Dick? On the one hand, I have no
fancy for being marched out from here to die the Slow Death, whatever
that may be--something pretty horrible, I have no doubt, by the sound of
it--but, on the other hand, I have just as little inclination to bind
myself to end my days here, among these chappies--eh, what?"
"I fully agree with you, my dear fellow, on both points," answered Dick;
"but there is one broad principle upon which I invariably act, and that
is, where one is confronted by a choice between two evils, always to
choose the lesser of the two. In this case I think there can be no
question as to which is the lesser of the two evils between which we
have to choose; because if we were foolish enough to choose death it
would mean the end of all things sublunary for us; whereas if we choose
life, even with the condition attached, there is always a sporting
chance of something happening to make matters better for us. For
myself, I would rather live, even here, than die the death, whether slow
or quick. My advice, therefore, is to take the life which is offered
us, and make the best of it."
"Very well, then; that's agreed," returned Grosvenor, who proceeded
forthwith to explain laboriously to the unseen judges that they accepted
the alternative of life offered them.
The decision was received with low murmurs of what sounded like
satisfaction on the part of those behind the grille. A short silence
next ensued, which was followed by further mutterings among the unseen
judges, who seemed to be debating some important point. Finally an
intimation came from those mysterious individuals that the strangers
were to be marched to the Great Hall, there to take the oath which
formed the condition upon which they accepted their lives; whereupon the
officer, Benoni, gave an order, and the prisoners were marched out of
the Judgment Hall through the door by which they had entered.
Making their way back along the passage which they had previously
traversed, the party presently found themselves in the central hall out
of which all the passages in the building seemed to radiate. Traversing
this, they now entered another and much wider passage, which conducted
them into what was presumably the Great Hall; for it was a square
apartment measuring fully a hundred feet each way, lighted on two
adjacent sides by lofty windows glazed with the talc-like substance
which the two friends had before observed, only in the present case the
glazing glowed with rich colour, having been painted or dyed with
marvellous skill into representations of various apparently symbolical
subjects, as were also the lights in a great central dome which,
supported by massive columns, occupied about three-fourths of the roof
space of the apartment. These columns as well as the walls and flat
portion of the roof of the hall, were also very elaborately decorated in
colour, while the floor was composed of white marble. A long, thin rod,
which might be gold, judging from its sheen and colour, depended from
the great boss, or keystone, of the dome, supporting a group of seven
beautifully ornate, lighted lamps, at a height of about twenty feet
above the floor; and immediately beneath these there was a table covered
with a cloth, woven in a most intricate and elegant pattern, apparently
of very fine gold thread. Upon this table there lay a large roll of
parchment manuscript, wound upon two golden rods, decorated with what
looked like pine cones wrought in gold at the ends; and behind the table
stood seven venerable men with long white moustaches, and beards
reaching to their waists, clad in a hooded garment of finest wool, dyed
black, reaching to their feet. Their hoods were drawn so far over their
heads and faces that little of their features could be seen, save their
eyes, which glowed out of the sombre shadow cast by their hoods.
The young Englishmen, still in the custody of the guard, were marched up
to within about ten feet of the table, where they were halted; whereupon
the central and apparently oldest figure of the seven said, in a deep,
grave voice--which both at once recognised as that which had spoken from
behind the grille:
"Draw near, strangers, and take the oath which shall free you from the
ban of the law, and make you citizens of Izreel for the remainder of
your lives. Lay your right hands upon this roll and, with your left
hands raised toward heaven, repeat after me:--
"I swear, by the Sun, Moon, and Stars, by Light and Darkness, by the
Powers of the Air, and by the Flame of the seven lamps which burn
forever, that I will never seek to leave Izreel without first obtaining
the royal assent, and that henceforth I will devote myself to its
service in such manner as I shall be directed!"
The oath sounded formidable enough, but after all it really meant little
to those who were called upon to take it, and they took it
unhesitatingly, with the full intention of keeping it both in letter and
in spirit--since an oath was an oath, whatever form its wording might
assume--and, this done, Benoni and his guard were dismissed, and the two
newly enrolled citizens of Izreel were left alone with the seven whom
they subsequently came to know as the Elders.
The stern attitude of these toward the two aliens was now considerably
relaxed; they invited Phil and Dick to accompany them into another and a
much smaller room, where, to the great satisfaction of the Englishmen,
they found a substantial meal awaiting them, and to this the entire
party forthwith sat down. The appetite of the ex-prisoners was by this
time brought to a fine edge by their somewhat protracted fast, and they
did full justice to the fare placed before them, to the wonder and
admiration of their hosts, who, it appeared, were themselves but
indifferent trenchermen. The meal over, and the attendants dismissed,
Malachi, the chief of the Elders, and the man who had delivered judgment
in the Judgment Hall, turned to Grosvenor and said:
"And now, O Philip! the moment has arrived when we, the Elders, must
decide in what manner you and he whom you call Dick may best serve
Izreel. Tell me, therefore, I pray you, what ye can both best do, in
order that we may assign to each of you a useful vocation."
"That is all very well," remarked Grosvenor rather ruefully, when he had
translated this speech to Dick. "So far as you are concerned the matter
is simple enough; you are a doctor, and when once these chappies have
had an example of your skill in that line I expect they'll find you
plenty to do. But what can I do? Absolutely nothing useful! I can
ride, shoot, sail a yacht passably--"
"Stop!" cried Dick impulsively. "Ask these ancients whether they know
what sails are. If they don't--and I'll bet they do not, or they would
have used them yesterday--your vocation is cut out for you. You can
teach them how to use sails, and also how to model their craft upon
better lines; and by the time that you have finished that job I have no
doubt another will turn up. Just talk to the old gentlemen along those
lines, and see what comes of it."
And Grosvenor did, with the happiest results. He ascertained that the
Izreelites knew nothing whatever about sails, or indeed how to use the
wind in any way as a labour-saver; and when he told his little audience
that boats could be propelled, corn ground, water pumped, and a number
of other useful things done by the power of wind alone, they were at
first very strongly inclined to suspect him of romancing. But when he
further offered to demonstrate to them the truth of his assertion they
at once agreed to afford him every facility for so doing, and cheerfully
promised to place at his disposal such men and material as he might
require.
And when he came to speak of Dick's qualifications as a healer of all
manner of diseases and injury to the human anatomy, they were even more
greatly surprised and delighted, for, astonishing as it may appear in
the case of a people so highly civilised in many respects as were the
Izreelites, they knew practically nothing of either medicine or surgery,
and pinned their faith entirely to the efficacy of charms and
incantations. Moreover, it soon transpired that they had a particular
as well as a general reason for rejoicing at the fact that a physician
of real and proved ability had come among them; for, after a
considerable amount of discussion among themselves, Grosvenor was
informed that the whole nation was racked with anxiety concerning the
health of the young Queen Myra, who seemed gradually becoming deranged;
the especial significance of their anxiety being explained by the fact--
stated with the utmost gravity--that an ancient prophecy, in which they
placed the most implicit faith, foretold that should ever a monarch die
without issue, the fall of the nation and its absorption by its savage
neighbours would immediately follow. The point of it all lay in the
fact that the Queen was unwedded, and insisted on remaining so, while
the savages who surrounded Izreel on every side were daily becoming more
aggressive!
"Now, here is your chance, Dick," explained Grosvenor delightedly, when
he had translated the above particulars to his friend. "You sail in
with your pills and potions, cure the Queen, marry her, make me your
Prime Minister, and we all live happily ever afterwards, like the people
in the fairy tales--eh, what? Shall I tell these chappies that they
need not worry any further about their Queen, for that you are prepared
to cure her, whatever her malady may happen to be?"
"Of course not," answered Dick seriously. "But you may say, if you
like, that I shall be very pleased to see Her Majesty and do what I can
for her. And pray try to be serious, Phil, for once in a way; frivolity
is well enough at a proper time, and in its proper place, but it will
not improve these people's opinion of us if they see us laughing and
obviously joking over a matter that seems to be a serious enough one for
them, and may be sufficiently serious for us, too, in the long run."
"Yes--yes--of course," assented Grosvenor, completely sobered by his
friend's grave words; "I quite see what you mean, old chap, and I
promise you there shall be no further ill-timed attempts at jocularity
on my part. The poor old chappies look a bit put out as it is; but I'll
soon make it all right with them."
Therewith he proceeded to explain to the Elders that, while his friend
could not promise anything definite without first seeing the Queen, he
was willing to have an interview with her at once, or at Her Majesty's
earliest convenience, and would do everything in his power to restore
her to perfect health.
This announcement at once banished the glum looks which Grosvenor's ill-
timed levity of demeanour had called up, and restored matters to the
favourable condition that had been momentarily endangered. A brief
consultation was held, and at its conclusion Malachi, the chief Elder,
hurried away to seek an audience of the Queen with the object of
endeavouring to secure her consent to an interview with the wonderful
doctor from afar. Meanwhile the two Englishmen were conducted up a
magnificently wide marble staircase to the building that formed the
second story, as it were, of the immense edifice in which they had been
brought to trial, and which they now learned was the Government building
in which the business of the nation generally was transacted, and the
chief officials of the Government had lodging, the topmost story of all
being a temple to which the Elders were wont to resort in times of
especial national stress and danger, and where they were supposed to
seek--and obtain--inspiration and guidance enabling them to successfully
grapple with the crisis.
The second story of this curious building, which was part legislative
palace and part temple, was the portion especially devoted to the
lodgment of the Government officials, and it was a gratifying indication
to the two friends of their future status in their new country that they
were now assigned apartments in this portion of the building. These
apartments consisted of two large and exceedingly lofty rooms, one to
serve as a sleeping chamber, and the other as a sitting- and working-
room combined. Each room was lighted by an exceptionally large window
that opened like a door and gave access to the projecting roof of the
story below, which was some sixty feet wider, each way, than the story
immediately above it. This roof was flat, and was beautifully laid out
as a flower garden, with winding walks through a level lawn thickly
studded with beds of beautiful, sweet-scented flowers. The garden was
protected all round by a breast-high parapet, and commanded a
magnificent view, not only of the entire island, but also of the lake
and the encircling hills. The Elder who installed the newcomers in this
sumptuous suite of apartments having enquired whether their lodging was
to their liking, and received a reply in the affirmative, informed them
that, that being the case, the belongings which they had brought with
them to the island would at once be placed in their new lodging. Then,
having asked whether he could do anything more for their immediate
comfort, and being answered in the negative, he indicated an immense
copper gong on the landing outside their door, informed them that a
single stroke upon it would at once bring the attendant who had been
appointed to wait upon them, and so bowed himself out.
Meanwhile, Malachi, the chief Elder, was having a rather difficult time
with the self-willed young Queen. First of all she positively refused
to grant him an audience at all; and when at length he succeeded in
obtaining admission to her apartments by his persistent representations
that the matter upon which he desired to see her was of the most vital
importance, she at once angrily ordered him out again as soon as she
understood that he had found a new physician whom he desired her to see.
But if the Queen was self-willed, Malachi was the very incarnation of
pertinacity; he protested, wheedled, entreated, and was indignant by
turns, but all to no purpose until he happened to mention that the
physician in question was a stranger from a far country beyond the Great
Water; when, first commanding him to repeat his statement all over
again, she suddenly developed a sweet reasonableness, that caused the
astonished Malachi to doubt the evidence of his senses, by announcing
that she would see the stranger, who was to be brought into her presence
forthwith.