The fatal day arrived at last.  All was completed, save for the blocking of the passage, which still went on, or, rather, was being reinforced by the piling up of loose rocks against its mouth, at which a hundred or so men laboured incessantly.  The firing wires had been led into that little chamber in the old temple where the dog Pharaoh tore out the throat of Shadrach, and no inch of them was left unguarded for fear of accident or treachery.

The electric batteries—­two of them, in case one should fail—­had been tested but not connected with the wires.  There they stood upon the floor, looking innocent enough, and we four sat round them like wizards round their magic pot, who await the working of some spell.  We were not cheerful; who could be under so intense a strain?  Orme, indeed, who had grown pale and thin with continuous labour of mind and body, seemed quite worn out.  He could not eat nor smoke, and with difficulty I persuaded him to drink some of the native wine.  He would not even go to look at the completion of the work or to test the wires.

“You can see to it,” he said; “I have done all I can.  Now things must take their chance.”

After our midday meal he lay down and slept quite soundly for several hours.  About four o’clock those who were labouring at the piling up of debris over the mouth of the tunnel completed their task, and, in charge of Quick, were marched out of the underground city.

Then Higgs and I took lamps and went along the length of the wires, which lay in a little trench covered over with dust, removing the dust and inspecting them at intervals.  Discovering nothing amiss, we returned to the old temple, and at its doorway met the mountaineer, Japhet, who throughout all these proceedings had been our prop and stay.  Indeed, without his help and that of his authority over the Abati the mine could never have been completed, at any rate within the time.

The light of the lamp showed that his face was very anxious.

“What is the matter?” I asked.

“O Physician,” he answered, “I have words for the ear of the Captain Orme.  Be pleased to lead me to him.”

We explained that he slept and could not be disturbed, but Japhet only answered as before, adding: 

“Come you with me, my words are for your ears as well as his.”

So we went into the little room and awoke Oliver, who sprang up in a great fright, thinking that something untoward had happened at the mine.

“What’s wrong?” he asked of Japhet.  “Have the Fung cut the wires?”

“Nay, O Orme, a worse thing; I have discovered that the Prince Joshua has laid a plot to steal away ‘Her-whose-name-is-high.’”

“What do you mean?  Set out all the story, Japhet,” said Oliver.

“It is short, lord.  I have some friends, one of whom—­he is of my own blood, but ask me not his name—­is in the service of the Prince.  We drank a cup of wine together, which I needed, and I suppose it loosed his tongue.  At any rate, he told me, and I believed him.  This is the story.  For his own sake and that of the people the Prince desires that you should destroy the idol of Fung, and therefore he has kept his hands off you of late.  Yet should you succeed, he does not know what may happen.  He fears lest the Abati in their gratitude should set you up as great men.”