“We are securely blocked, Master Benteen,” he asserted gruffly.  “A fit reward for associating with papists.”

“Blocked?” failing to comprehend.  “How?  Are the savages already astir?”

“Look for yourself.  See yonder; lights are on the pathway as high as the tree-bridge.”

I dropped upon my knees, clinging to a bowlder, and peered over.  He spoke truth, and my heart rose choking into my throat.  Resembling innumerable fireflies tiny flames were gleaming along the entire front of the cliff—­torches borne by human hands.  Breathless the three of us clung there staring down, each realizing the utter futility of our efforts at escape, yet none reckless enough to give the thought utterance.  The Puritan first found speech.

“The spawn of hell!” he growled savagely, shaking his great fist, remembering the indignities of the altar-house.  “Good Lord, deliver us from this iniquity; lead us through the waters dry-shod, even as Thou didst Thy people of old from the land of Egypt.”

“Come,” I said, “we must seek whatever hiding-place is within, and trust God for it.”

The priest looked at me pleadingly, his eyes like stars.

“I would at such an hour you were of my faith, Monsieur.”

“I might do worse,” I admitted, watching intently the lights on the cliff-path, “but it was not the teaching of my childhood.  There is one below whose prayers are as yours.”

“Madame de Noyan?”

I bowed my head in gesture of reverence.

“Yes, Monsieur, and whatever she loves is not far from my heart.  But come, we have scant time for preparation; no, do not endeavor to walk; your weight is nothing to my arms.”

There was no spot within where, even for a short period, we might hope to avoid discovery, except the rock gallery.  Here, crouching behind the parapet, we could see without being seen, unless some savage chanced to stray that way.  At my order the sullen, psalm-quoting preacher dragged the helpless old chief priest after him, and so we went groping forward through the darkness of the short passage, until we attained the stone steps.  Stumbling blindly upward, our hearts throbbing in realization of the peril that was closing us in, we flung our bodies flat behind the concealing rocks, peering fearfully forth into the great deserted chamber.  Even amid that lonely silence it was a sight to chill the heart; and to us, comprehending something of what it would soon reveal of savage orgy.  It was like gazing down into the mouth of the Pit.  The single touch of color in the drear picture came from the crimson drapery hanging over the edge of the raised platform.  Seeing all this at one glance my anxious eyes sought the deeper gloom shrouding the tunnel leading toward the entrance.  As I stared that way a sudden flash of fierce lightning illumined it.  So brilliant it burst forth from the opaque night, I hid my blinded eyes, every nerve of my body quivering.