I worship the god Jal, but the man, Dweller in the Waters, I hate," she
said fiercely.

"Why, how is this? But two days gone you told me that you loved him, and
that there was no such god as this man, and no such man as this god."

"That was so, father, but since then he has thrust me aside, saying that
I weary him, and courts a handmaid of mine own, and therefore I demand
the life of that handmaiden."

Nam smiled grimly. "Perchance you demand the life of the god also?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation, "I would see him dead if it can
be brought about."

Again Nam smiled. "Truly, niece, your temper is that of my sister, your
grandmother, who brought three men to sacrifice because she grew jealous
of them. Well, well, these are strange times, and you may live to see
your desire satisfied by the death of the god. Now, what of that woman?
How comes she to be with you?"

"She was bound by the order of Aca, father, and Jal was set to watch
her; but I drugged Jal, and loosing her bonds I led her down the secret
way, for she desires to speak to you."

"How can that be, niece? Can I then understand her language?"

"Nay, father, but she understands ours. Had she been bred in the land
she could not speak it better."

Nam looked astonished, and going to the door he called to the priest
without to lead in the stranger.

"You have words to say to me," he said.

"Yes, lord, but not before these. That which I have to say is secret."

Nam hesitated.

"Have no fear, lord," said Soa, reading his thoughts. "See, I am
unarmed."

Then he commanded the others to go, and when the door had closed behind
them, he looked at her inquiringly.

"Tell me, lord, who am I?" asked Soa, throwing the wrapping from her
head and turning her face to the glare of the torchlight.

"How can I know who you are, wanderer? Yet, had I met you by chance, I
should have said that you were of our blood."

"That is so, lord, I am of your blood. Cast your mind back and think if
you can remember a certain daughter whom you loved many years ago, but
who through the workings of your foes was chosen to be a bride to the
Snake," and she paused.

"Speak on," said Nam in a low voice.

"Perchance you can recall, lord, that, moved to it by love and pity, on
the night of the sacrifice you helped that daughter to escape the fangs
of the Snake."

"I remember something of it," he replied cautiously; "but tidings were
brought to me that this woman of w