silence ensued, lasting for
nearly twenty minutes, broken only by a low sound suggestive of subdued
whispering behind the grille. At length, however, even this ceased, and
the silence became almost oppressive for the space of about another
half-minute. Then it was broken by the voice that had before spoken,
saying:

"White strangers, say now by what names are ye known?"

To which Grosvenor replied: "My name is Philip Eustace Meredith
Grosvenor; and that of my friend is Richard Maitland."

This statement was followed by another brief silence, when the unseen
speaker said:

"Philip Eustace Meredith Grosvenor and Richard Maitland," he boggled the
names a little, especially those of Grosvenor, "ye have entered the
country of the Izreelites uninvited, and without even asking permission
to do so. Had ye sought permission before crossing our border, it would
have been refused you, and ye would have been turned back and permitted
to depart in peace. But to enter this land uninvited, and without
obtaining permission, is against our law, and the punishment for the
offence is the Slow Death!"

Here the speaker made an impressive pause, as though to allow the
statement to be thoroughly absorbed by the understanding of those most
intimately concerned. Then he resumed:

"But we learn from the officer Benoni, who brought you hither, that
since entering our country ye have saved the lives of two men; and since
men's lives are more valuable to the Izreelites than aught else, we have
decided to mitigate your punishment to this extent: ye shall live, if ye
will, upon condition that ye swear never to attempt to leave the country
without the royal assent, and to devote yourselves henceforth to the
service of Izreel in such manner as ye may be directed. Say now,
therefore, will ye accept life, with the condition attached to the gift;
or will ye go forth from hence to die the Slow Death?"

This speech Grosvenor carefully translated to Dick, finishing up by
asking:

"What answer shall I give the Johnnie, Dick? On the one hand, I have no
fancy for being marched out from here to die the Slow Death, whatever
that may be--something pretty horrible, I have no doubt, by the sound of
it--but, on the other hand, I have just as little inclination to bind
myself to end my days here, among these chappies--eh, what?"

"I fully agree with you, my dear fellow, on both points," answered Dick;
"but there is one broad principle upon which I i