Kings in those
five-and-twenty crates? I have thought since that I was crazy when I
packed them, picking out the most valuable and rare articles with such
care, and filling in the cracks with ring money and small curiosities,
but now I see it was the inspiration of genius. My subliminal self knew
what was going to happen, and was on the job, that's all. Oh, if only
we can get it safe away, I shall not have played Daniel and been nearly
starved to death for nothing. Why, I'd go through it all again for that
golden head alone. Shove on, shove on, before they change their minds;
it seems too good to be true."

Just then a rotten egg thrown by some sweet Abati youth landed full on
the bridge of his nose, and dispersing itself into his mouth and over
his smoked spectacles, cut short the Professor's eloquence, or rather
changed its tenor. So absurd was the sight that in spite of myself I
burst out laughing, and with that laugh felt my heart grow lighter, as
though our clouds of trouble were lifting at length.

At the mouth of the pass we found Joshua himself waiting for us, clad
in all his finery and chain armour, and looking more like a porpoise on
horseback than he had ever done.

"Farewell, Gentiles," he said, bowing to us in mockery, "we wish you a
quick journey to Sheol, or wherever such swine as you may go. Listen,
you Orme. I have a message for you from the Walda Nagasta. It is that
she is sorry she could not ask you to stop for her nuptial feast, which
she would have done had she not been sure that, if you stayed, the
people would have cut your throat, and she did not wish the holy soil of
Mur to be defiled with your dog's blood. Also she bids me say that she
hopes that your stay here will have taught you a lesson, and that in
future you will not believe that every woman who makes use of you for
her own ends is therefore a victim of your charms. To-morrow night and
the night after, I pray you think of our happiness and drink a cup of
wine to the Walda Nagasta and her husband. Come, will you not wish me
joy, O Gentile?"

Orme turned white as a sheet and gazed at him steadily. Then a strange
look came into his grey eyes, almost a look of inspiration.

"Prince Joshua," he said in a very quiet voice, "who knows what may
happen before the sun rises thrice on Mur? All things that begin well do
not end well, as I have learned, and as you also may live to learn. At
least, soon or late, your day of reckoning must come, an