f
my soul, rose of the morning, delight of my heart! Ah, my love, my
love, go to thy death----!"

And he opened wide his arms and pointed up the path, and Leonie went
where he pointed; and never once looked back at the man standing with
his arms stretched out towards her, whilst monkeys chattered, and
parrots screamed, and the jungle teemed with flying, frightened shapes.

CHAPTER XLVIII

"A whirlpool of uncertainty,
a prison of punishment,
a basket of illusion,
the open throat of hell."--_The Spring Sataka_.

A brick and some plaster clattered about Jan Cuxson's feet as he
crossed the temple chamber and stood looking out at the jungle, and the
animals of all sizes and shapes which were hurtling through the
undergrowth. For a minute he stood twirling the rusty knife blade
between his fingers, then hid it carefully behind a block of broken
masonry.

"Better so," he muttered, "not much good as a weapon of defence, but
better than nothing; might put the old man on the track if he happened
to find it on me when he comes to tie me up. My God! to think of it;
I, strong and healthy and sane, at the mercy of that old priest,
actually under his will--hypnotised, forced to do exactly what he tells
me. Please heavens the ghee will hold the plaster together round the
ring, and oh! I can't stand _much_ more of this suspense."

He had come to the end of his endurance.

Day had followed night, and night had followed day monotonously,
without a change in the heartbreaking dreariness of their round.

During the day he had watched the jungle over the outer wall for hours,
rewarded by an occasional glimpse of deer; once by a striped yellow
shade which had slunk between the trees, causing him to yearn for his
rifle; at night he had lain gazing at the stars, comfortable enough
upon a thick bed of leaves, untroubled by the mosquito which, as he had
learned, does not thrive in the Sunderbunds Jungle; and day and night
over the wall, or up at the stars, he strove to look into the future
and found a dreary blank.

But upon _this_ night he turned with a smile and a question on his lips
when the priest suddenly emerged from behind the heap of stones and
hurried across the flags towards him.

"Haste, sahib! The Mother is infuriated at the long waiting, and I go
to make sacrifice to appease her. _Haste_, for it is not good for man
if she stamps with both her holy feet. Come, and struggle not! Nay,
look not at