dared not risk it. He seems to dread
offending me."

"Of course," the Shadow replied, as readily as before. "He is very much
afraid of you. You are Korong. You may any day supplant him. He would
like to get rid of you, if he could see his way. But till your time comes
he dare not touch you."

"When will my time come?" Felix asked, with that dim apprehension of some
horrible end coming over him yet again in all its vague weirdness.

The Shadow shook his head. "That," he answered, "it is not lawful for me
so much as to mention. I tell you too far. You will know soon enough.
Wait, and be patient."

CHAPTER XIV.

"MR. THURSTAN, I PRESUME."

Naturally enough, it was some time before Felix and Muriel could recover
from the shock of their deadly peril. Yet, strange to say, the natives at
the end of three days seemed positively to have forgotten all about it.
Their loves and their hates were as shortlived as children's. As soon as
the period of seclusion was over, their attentions to the two strangers
redoubled in intensity. They were evidently most anxious, after this
brief disagreement, to reassure the new gods, who came from the sun, of
their gratitude and devotion. The men who had wounded Felix, in
particular, now came daily in the morning with exceptional gifts of fish,
fruit, and flowers; they would bring a crab from the sea, or a joint of
turtle-meat. "Forgive us, O king," they cried, prostrating themselves
humbly. "We did not mean to hurt you; we thought your time had really
come. You are a Korong. We would not offend you. Do not refuse us your
showers because of our sin. We are very penitent. We will do what you ask
of us. Your look is poison. See, here is wood; here are leaves and fire;
we are but your meat; choose and cook which you will of us!"

It was useless Felix's trying to explain to them that he wanted no
victims, and no propitiation. The more he protested, the more they
brought gifts. "He is a very great god," they exclaimed. "He wants
nothing from us. What can we give him that will be an acceptable gift?
Shall we offer him ourselves, our wives, our children?"

As for the women, when they saw how thoroughly frightened of them Muriel
now was, they couldn't find means to express their regret and devotion.
Mothers brought their little children, whom she had patted on the head,
and offered them, just outside the line, as presents for her acceptance.
They explained to her Shadow that they never m