ce. "Lick
the earth at the feet of the Great North Wind, whose blast kills!"

But immediately Lutali staggered to his feet, and the hell blast of hate
and fury which shone from his eyes was perfectly demoniacal.

"There is but one God, and Mohammed is the prophet of God!" he roared.
"Am I to prostrate myself before an infidel dog--the chief dog of a pack
of dogs? This for the scum!" And he spat full towards Tyisandhlu.

An indescribable shiver of awe ran through the dense and serried ranks
of armed warriors, followed by a terrible tumult.

"_Au!_ he is mad!" cried some; while others clamoured, "Give him to us,
Great Great One. We will put him to the fiery death!"

But the king returned no word. It is even possible that his own
intrepid soul was moved to admiration by the sublime courage of this
man--his prisoner, bound, helpless, weakened--standing thus before
him--before him at whose frown men trembled--face to face, and thus
defying him. One other who beheld it, the sight must have powerfully
moved, for with a lull in the tumult a voice rose clear and distinct:

"Spare him, O Great Great One, for he is a brave man."

If anyone had told Laurence Stanninghame but an hour earlier that he was
about to commit so rash and suicidal an act as to beg the life of
another at the hands of a grossly insulted despot, and in the face of an
enraged nation, he would have scouted the idea as too weakly idiotic for
words. Yet, in fact, he had just committed that very act. Deep and
savage were the resentful growls that greeted his words. "_Au!_ he
presumes! He shares in the insult offered to the majesty of the king,"
were some of the ominous mutterings that went forth.

The king merely glanced in the direction of the speaker, and said
nothing. But Lutali, becoming aware for the first time of the presence
of his former confederate, turned towards the latter.

"Ask not my life at the hands of these dogs, these unclean swine, Afa,"
he cried;--"lo, Paradise awaits to receive the believer. I hasten to it;
I enter it;" and he threw back his head fearlessly, while his eyes shone
with a fanatical glare.

"Spare him, O king, for he is a brave man," urged Laurence again.

"And so art thou, I think," replied Tyisandhlu, turning a somewhat
haughty stare upon the speaker. Then he muttered, "Yet not this one."

An interruption occurred; gruesome, grotesque. A number of figures,
seeming to spring from no one knew where, were seen gliding fo