Juanna took the journal, and holding it to the light, opened it at hazard. The first thing that she saw was her own name, for in truth it contained, among many other matters, a record of the priest's unhappy infatuation from the first moment of their meeting, and also of his pious efforts to overcome it. Turning the pages rapidly she came to the last on which there was any writing. It ran as follows:
"Senora, of the circumstances under which I write these words you will learn in due course. The pages of this journal, should you deign to study them, will reveal to you my shameful weakness. But if I am a priest I am also a man—who soon shall be neither, but, as I hope, an immortal spirit—and the man in me, following those desires of the spirit that find expression through the flesh, has sinned and loved you. Forgive me this crime, as I trust it will be forgiven elsewhere, though myself I cannot pardon it. Be happy with that noble gentleman who has won your heart and who himself worships you as you deserve. May you be protected from all the dangers that now surround you, as I think you will, and may the blessing of Heaven be with you and about you for many peaceful years, till at length you come to the peace that passeth understanding! And when from time to time you think of me, may you in your heart couple my name with certain holy words: 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' Senora, pardon me and farewell."
Juanna read this touching and noble–hearted adieu with an ever–growing wonder, and when she had finished it, put down the book crying aloud,
"Oh! what have I done to deserve such devotion as this?" Then with a strange and bewildering inconsequence she flung herself into Leonard's arms, and burying her head upon his breast she began to weep.
When she was somewhat calmer he also read the letter and closed the book, saying:
"The world is poorer by a perfect gentleman. He was too good for any of us, Juanna."
"I think so," she answered.
Just then they heard a sound without the door; it opened, and Nam entered accompanied by Soa.
"Deliverer," said the aged priest, whose countenance and troubled eyes bore traces of many conflicting emotions, "and you, Shepherdess, I come to speak with you. As you see, I am alone, except for this woman, but should you attempt any violence towards her or me, that will be the signal for your deaths. With much toil and at no little risk to myself I have spared the life of the Shepherdess, causing the white man, your companion, to be offered up in her place."
"Has that offering been accomplished?" broke in Leonard, who could not restrain his anxiety to learn what had happened.
"I will be frank with you, Deliverer," answered the high–priest, when Juanna had translated his question, "since the truth cannot hurt me, for now we know too much of one another's secrets to waste time in bandying lies. I know, for instance, that the Shepherdess and the dwarf are no gods, but mortal like ourselves; and you know that I have dared to affront the true gods by changing the victim whom they had chosen. The sacrifice has been accomplished, but with so many signs and wonders that I am bewildered; the People of the Mist are bewildered also, so that none know what to think. The white man, your companion, was hurled fainting into the waters when the dawn had broken upon the mountain and was seen to be grey; but the dwarf, your servant, did not wait to have that office done for him, for he sprang thither himself, ay, and took one with him."
"Bravo, Otter!" cried Leonard; "I knew that you would die hard."
"Hard did he die indeed, Deliverer," said Nam with a sigh, "so hard that even now many swear that he was a god and not a man. Scarcely had they all vanished into the pool when a wonder chanced such as has not been told of in our records: Deliverer, the white dawn turned to red, perchance, as I cried to calm the people, because the false gods had met their doom."
"Then the true ones must be singularly blind," said Juanna, "seeing that I, whom you dare to call a false god, am still alive."
This argument silenced Nam for a moment, but presently he answered.
"Yes, Shepherdess, you are still alive," he said, laying a curious emphasis on the "still." "And, indeed," he added hastily, "if you are not foolish you may long remain so, both of you, for I have no desire to shed your blood who only seek to end my last days in peace. But listen to the end of the tale: While the people wondered at the omen of the changed dawn, it was seen that the dwarf, your servant, was not dead there in the pool. Yes! this was seen, Deliverer: to and fro in the troubled waters rushed the great Water Dweller, and after him, keeping pace with him, went that dwarf who was named Otter. Ay, round and round and down to the lowest depths, though how it could be that a man might swim with the Snake none can say."
"Oh, bravo, Otter!" said Leonard again, bethinking him of an explanation of the mystery which he did not reveal to Nam. "Well, what was the end of it?"
"That none know for certain, Deliverer," answered the priest perplexedly. "At last the Water Dweller, from whose mouth poured blood, was seen to sink with the dwarf; then he rose again and entered the cave, his home. But whether the dwarf entered with him, or no, I cannot say, for some swear one thing and some another, and in the foam and shadow it was hard to see; moreover, none will venture there to learn the truth."
"Well, dead or alive, he made a good fight for it," said Leonard. "And now, Nam, what is your business with us?"
This question appeared to puzzle the priest a little, for, to speak truth, he did not care to disclose the exact nature of his business, which was to separate Leonard from Juanna, without force if possible.
"I came here, Deliverer," he answered, "to tell you what had happened."
"Exactly," said Leonard, "to tell me that you have murdered my best friend, and one who was but lately your god. I thank you for your news, Nam, and now, if I might make bold to ask it, what are your plans with reference to ourselves—I mean until it suits you to send us after our companions?"
"Believe me, Deliverer, my plan is to save your lives. If the others have been sacrificed it was no fault of mine, for there are forces behind me that I cannot control even when I guide them. The land is in confusion and full of strange rumours. I know not what may happen during the next few days, but till they are over you must lie hid. This is a poor place in which to dwell, but there is none other safe and secret. Still, here is another chamber which you can use; perchance you have already seen it," and placing his hand upon what appeared to be a latch, he opened the second door which Leonard had noticed previously, revealing a cell of very similar construction to that in which they were, and of somewhat larger size.
"See, Deliverer," he went on, "here is the place," and he stepped forward to enter the cell, then drew back as though in courtesy to allow Leonard to pass in before him.
For once Leonard's caution forsook him, for at the moment he was thinking of other things. Almost mechanically he passed the threshold. Scarcely were his feet over it when he remembered the character of his host and the lodging, and turned quickly to come back.
It was too late, for even as he turned the heavy timber door closed in his face with a crash, and he was caged.
Chapter XXXIV
Nam's Last Argument
For a moment Juanna stood stupefied; for the manoeuvre had been so sudden that at first she could scarcely realise its results.
"Now, Shepherdess," began Nam blandly, "we can talk in private, for I have words to say to you which it is not fitting that other ears should hear."
"You fiend," she answered fiercely; then comprehending that violence or remonstrance would be useless, she added, "Speak on, I hear you."
"Listen, Shepherdess, and for your own sake I implore you, do not give way to grief or rage. I swear to you that no harm shall come to yonder man if you will but do my bidding. Shepherdess, you are found out; I know, and the people know, that you are no goddess. It had been safer to sacrifice you to–day, but partly because of the pleading of my daughter who loves you, and partly for other reasons, I have caused you to be saved alive. Now, Shepherdess, from this country there is no escape; as you have chosen to come hither, here you must remain for life, and in this cell you cannot live and die. Therefore, for my daughter's sake I have cast about for a means to deliver you from bonds and to set you high in the land, ay, almost at its head," and he paused.