breast, and the heavy silver bracelets jingled
faintly, then shrank back against the painted wall as a young man, even
the jungle guide, and beautiful to the verge of unseemliness, stealing
from the shadows, smote her fiercely across the mouth, and pulled the
_sari_ roughly over her head.

"Hold thy peace and watch," he whispered, with a swift movement of the
arm, most suggestive of a cobra uncoiling itself with intent to strike,
as Leonie turned away from the doorway with a shudder.

She took two steps and stopped irresolute, with the rays of the full
moon shining upon her upturned perplexed face.

Then she stared down at the myriad things which crawled and hopped in
and out of the gleaming bones which lay about in little heaps, or
scattered in ones and twos, even up to the door and into the dim
interior.

Too absorbed, neither Jan nor Leonie noticed the murmur of voices from
the far end of the court, nor the reek of the tiger's blood which came
from her stained dress and the carcase of the dead beast which was in
the process of being skinned, and around which hovered the native staff
awaiting the distribution of the coveted tiger's fat.

Which more by faith, than any medicinal property it contains, is
supposed to work miracles in stressful times of rheumatism, and cattle
sickness.

Jan Cuxson, trying to grasp and knot together the tag ends of a dawning
knowledge, stood behind his beloved, patiently awaiting her next
desire, instead of picking her up in his arms as he should have done,
and carrying her off to safety, a good wash and a better dinner at the
other end of the court.

He was surprised when she spoke quickly and below her breath.

"Take me away," she whispered hoarsely as he caught her outstretched
hands and pulled her fiercely into his arms. "Take me away, the place
is evil--evil I tell you--and"--she raised her hand and passed it
across his face, laughing softly, "I think I am bewitched--something
is--is--pulling--is------"

She looked back over her shoulder, stared hard for a moment, and then,
tearing herself free, ran like a hunted deer through the crumbling
doorway into the blackness of the temple.

"Who fears, O Woman?" whispered the man, whose beauty touched the
unseemly as he sank to the ground. "Who fears?"

Half-way up the temple Leonie stopped, standing in a silver pool of
moonshine which blazed like the blade of a knife through a hole in the
roof; lighting up the ruined altar, th