e remaining portion of
this dimly revealed underground apartment appeared bare, except for a
gayly decorated skin or two, and the figure of a man, garbed in the
gloomy attire of a priest, lying fast asleep at the very feet of the
statue. Beyond showed a dark opening where the tunnel continued onward
into the earth.

It required brief observation to note these outlines, nor did they
greatly serve to delay my advance. I paused merely long enough to
become thoroughly convinced of the reality of the priest's slumber, and
then crept silently past, keeping close as possible within the shadow
of the eastern wall, until once again safely swallowed within the
blackness of the passage. Oddly enough the mere sight of that fellow
lying there unconscious served to yield me new courage, robbing the
cave of its loneliness, and I plunged directly ahead.

The passage I now followed rose with a sharp pitch, evidently inclining
toward the surface, the opening not far distant. It was like mounting
a hill, so marked was the incline, yet I covered a distance fully
equalling that of my previous descent before becoming aware of a
steadily increasing gray tingeing the side walls. Halting in this
faint illumination I was suddenly startled by the sound of vigorous
English speech. I advanced cautiously. The words were so confused by
the echoes that little could be made of them until I reached a coarsely
matted curtain, through which dimly sifted the welcome daylight. Here
I paused, listening intently, striving to discover what mystery lay
hidden beyond.

For some moments nothing reached me, excepting a low, dull murmur, as
if voices chanted in muffled monotone, the sound commingling with a
sharp crackling of flames, and an occasional doleful beating upon some
surface resembling the taut parchment of a drum. Suddenly a deep voice
close at hand roared out hoarsely, and my heart leaped in excitement,
although I at once recognized it.

"You black-faced son of Belial," came a savage snort, "do you give all
that food unto a dumb idol, when a Christian man, a ministering servant
of the Most High, lies groaning with a stomach which has n't tasted
food for four and twenty hours? Possess you no bowels of compassion
for the long sufferings of a fellow-man? Come now, give me just a bite
of the white meat, and yonder grinning wooden image will never miss it.
You won't, you spawn of Baal, yet I marked plain enough how you filled
your own lean be