“That is a great Taboo,” the Shadow went on, meditatively, stroking Felix’s arm.  “A very great Taboo indeed.  A terrible medicine.  And you are a god; I can trust you.  Well, then, you see, the secret is this:  you are Korong, but you are a stranger, and you don’t understand the ways of Boupari.  If for three days after the end of this storm, which Tu-Kila-Kila has sent Fire and Water to pray and vow against, you or the Queen of the Clouds show yourselves outside your own taboo-line—­why, then, the people are clear of sin; whoever takes you may rend you alive; they will tear you limb from limb and cut you into pieces.”

“Why so?” Felix asked, aghast at this discovery.  They seemed to live on a perpetual volcano in this wonderful island; and a volcano ever breaking out in fresh places.  They could never get to the bottom of its horrible superstitions.

“Because you ate the storm-apple,” the Shadow answered, confidently.  “That was very wrong.  You brought the tempest upon us yourselves by your own trespass; therefore, by the custom of Boupari, which we learn in the mysteries, you become full Korong for the sacrifice at once.  That makes the term for you.  The people will give you all your dues; then they will say, ’We are free; we have bought you with a price; we have brought your cocoanuts.  No sin attaches to us; we are righteous; we are righteous.’  And then they will kill you, and Fire and Water will roast you and boil you.”

“But only if we go outside the taboo-line?” Felix asked, anxiously.

“Only if you go outside the taboo-line,” the Shadow replied, nodding a hasty assent.  “Inside it, till your term comes, even Tu-Kila-Kila himself, the very high god, whose meat we all are, dare never hurt you.”

“Till our term comes?” Felix inquired, once more astonished and perplexed.  “What do you mean by that, my Shadow?”

But the Shadow was either bound by some superstitious fear, or else incapable of putting himself into Felix’s point of view.  “Why, till you are full Korong,” he answered, like one who speaks of some familiar fact, as who should say, till you are forty years old, or, till your beard grows white.  “Of course, by and by, you will be full Korong.  I cannot help you then; but, till that time comes, I would like to do my best by you.  You have been very kind to me.  I tell you much.  More than this, it would not be lawful for me to mention.”

And that was the most that, by dexterous questioning, Felix could ever manage to get out of his mysterious Shadow.

“At the end of three days we will be safe, though?” he inquired at last, after all other questions failed to produce an answer.

“Oh, yes, at the end of three days the storm will have blown over,” the young man answered, easily.  “All will then be well.  You may venture out once more.  The rain will have dried over all the island.  Fire and Water will have no more power over you.”