“Not altogether,” he answered, “I think it is dark.”

“From the beginning my spirit has ever loved the dark, Vernoon.  I think that it was shaped in some black midnight.”

They passed through the chief entrance of the house which had pillars of woodwork grotesquely carved, down some steps into a walled and roofed-in yard where the shadows were even more dense than in the house they had left.  Only at one spot was there light flowing down through a hole in the roof, as it did apparently in that hall where Alan had found the Asika sitting in state.  The light fell on to a pedestal or column made of gold which was placed behind an object like a large Saxon font, also made of gold.  The shape of this column reminded Alan of something, namely of a very similar column, although fashioned of a different material which stood in the granite-built office of Messrs. Aylward & Haswell in the City of London.  Nor did this seem wonderful to him, since on top of it, squatting on its dwarf legs, stood a horrid but familiar thing, namely Little Bonsa herself come home at last.  There she sat smiling cruelly, as she had smiled from the beginning, forgetful doubtless of her wanderings in strange lands, while round her stood a band of priests armed with spears.

Followed by the Asika and Jeekie, Alan walked up and looked her in the face and to his excited imagination she appeared to grin at him in answer.  Then while the priests prostrated themselves, he examined the golden basin or laver, and saw that at the further side of it was a little platform approached by steps.  On the top of these golden steps were two depressions such as might have been worn out in the course of ages by persons kneeling there.  Also the flat edge of the basin which stood about thirty inches above the level of the topmost step, was scored as though by hundreds of sword cuts which had made deep lines in the pure metal.  The basin itself was empty.

Seeing that these things interested him, the Asika volunteered the information through Jeekie, that this was a divining-bowl, and that if those who went before her had wished to learn the future, they caused Little Bonsa to float in it and found out all they wanted to know by her movements.  She, however, she added, had other and better methods of learning things that were predestined.

“Where does the water come from?” asked Alan thoughtlessly searching the bowl for some tap or inlet.

“Out of the hearts of men,” she answered with a low and dreadful laugh.  “These marks are those of swords and every one of them means a life.”  Then seeing that he looked incredulous she added, “Stay, I will show you.  Little Bonsa must be thirsty who has fasted so long, also there are matters that I desire to know.  Come hither—­you, and you,” and she pointed at hazard to the two priests who knelt nearest to her, “and do you bid the executioner bring his axe,” she went on to a third.

The dark faces of the men turned ashen, but they made no effort to escape their doom.  One of them crept up the steps and laid his neck upon the edge of gold, while the other, uttering no word, threw himself on his face at the foot of them, waiting his turn.  Then a door opened and there appeared a great and brutal-looking fellow, naked except for a loin cloth, who bore in his hand a huge weapon, half knife and half axe.