upon the shoulders
of two of his colleagues. This man, I now perceived, wore a hideous
mask, from which projected two tusks in imitation of those of an
elephant. Also there were others, as many as the space would hold.

The king called to us to come out of the house, which, having no choice,
we did. One glance at him showed me that the man was frantic with fear,
or rage, or both.

"Look upon your work, magicians!" he said in a terrible voice, pointing
first to the dead priest, then to the diviner's wounded foot.

"It is no work of ours, King Simba," answered Marut. "It is your own
work. You stole the magic weapon of the white lord and made it angry, so
that it has revenged itself upon you."

"It is true," said Simba, "that the tube has killed one of those who
took it away from you and wounded the other" (here was luck indeed).
"But it was you who ordered it to do so, magicians. Now, hark! Yesterday
I promised you safety, that no spear should pierce your hearts and no
knife come near your throats, and drank the cup of peace with you. But
you have broken the pact, working us more harm, and therefore it no
longer holds, since there are many other ways in which men can die.
Listen again! This is my decree. By your magic you have taken away the
life of one of my servants and hurt another of my servants, destroying
the middle toe of his left foot. If within three days you do not give
back the life to him who seems to be dead, and give back the toe to him
who seems to be hurt, as you well can do, then you shall join those whom
you have slain in the land of death, how I will not tell you."

Now when I heard this amazing sentence I gasped within myself, but
thinking it better to keep up my role of understanding nothing of their
talk, I preserved an immovable countenance and left Marut to answer.
This, to his credit be it recorded, he did with his customary pleasant
smile.

"O King," he said, "who can bring the dead back to life? Not even the
Child itself, at any rate in this world, for there is no way."

"Then, Prophet of the Child, you had better find a way, or, I repeat, I
send you to join them," he shouted, rolling his eyes.

"What did my brother, the great Prophet, promise to you but yesterday,
O King, if you harmed us?" asked Marut. "Was it not that the three great
curses should fall upon your people? Learn now that if so much as one
of us is murdered by you, these things shall swiftly come to pass. I,
Marut, who a