"How can that be, niece? Can I then understand her language?"
"Nay, father, but she understands ours. Had she been bred in the land she could not speak it better."
Nam looked astonished, and going to the door he called to the priest without to lead in the stranger.
"You have words to say to me," he said.
"Yes, lord, but not before these. That which I have to say is secret."
Nam hesitated.
"Have no fear, lord," said Soa, reading his thoughts. "See, I am unarmed."
Then he commanded the others to go, and when the door had closed behind them, he looked at her inquiringly.
"Tell me, lord, who am I?" asked Soa, throwing the wrapping from her head and turning her face to the glare of the torchlight.
"How can I know who you are, wanderer? Yet, had I met you by chance, I should have said that you were of our blood."
"That is so, lord, I am of your blood. Cast your mind back and think if you can remember a certain daughter whom you loved many years ago, but who through the workings of your foes was chosen to be a bride to the Snake," and she paused.
"Speak on," said Nam in a low voice.
"Perchance you can recall, lord, that, moved to it by love and pity, on the night of the sacrifice you helped that daughter to escape the fangs of the Snake."
"I remember something of it," he replied cautiously; "but tidings were brought to me that this woman of whom you speak was overtaken by the vengeance of the god, and died on her journey."
"That is not so, lord. I am your daughter, and you are none other than my father. I knew you when I first saw your face, though you did not know me."
"Prove it, and beware how you lie," he said. "Show me the secret sign, and whisper the hidden word into my ear."
Then, glancing suspiciously behind her, Soa came to him, and made some movements with her hands in the shadow of the table. Next bending forward, she whispered awhile into his ear. When she had finished, her father looked up, and there were tears in his aged eyes.
"Welcome, daughter," he said. "I thought that I was alone, and that none of my issue lived anywhere upon the earth. Welcome! Your life is forfeit to the Snake, but, forgetting my vows, I will protect you, ay, even at the cost of my own."
Then the two embraced each other with every sign of tenderness, a spectacle that would have struck anyone acquainted with their characters as both curious and interesting.
Presently Nam left the chamber, and having dismissed the attendant priest and his great–niece, Saga, who were waiting outside, he returned and prayed his daughter to explain the reason of her presence in the train of Aca.
"First, you shall swear an oath to me, my father," said Soa, "and if you swear it not, I will tell you no word of my story. You shall swear by the blood of Aca that you will do nothing against the life of that Queen with whom I journeyed hither. For the others, you may work your will upon them, but her you shall not harm."
"Why should I swear this, daughter?" he asked.
"You shall swear it because I, whom you love, love her, and also because so you shall gain the greater honour."
"Who am I that I should lift my hand against the gods, daughter? I swear it by the blood of Aca, and if I break my oath, then may Jal deal with me as once he dealt with Aca."
Then Soa went on freely, for she knew that this was a vow that could not be broken. Beginning at its commencement, she told him all the story of her life since, forty years ago, she had fled from among the People of the Mist, passing on rapidly, however, to that part of it which had to do with the capture and rescue of Juanna from the slave–traders, and with the promise that she had made to Leonard as the price of his assistance. This promise, she was careful to explain, she had not intended to fulfil until she was forced to do so by Juanna herself. Then she gave him a minute history of the object and details of their expedition, down to her final quarrel with Leonard and her mistress on the previous day.
To say that the old priest was thunderstruck at these extraordinary revelations would be too little; he was overwhelmed—so overwhelmed that for a while he could scarcely speak.
"It is fortunate for this jade of a mistress of yours, who dares to make a mockery of our goddess that she may steal her wealth, that I have sworn to save her from harm, daughter," he gasped at length, "else she had died, and swiftly. At least, the others remain to me," and he sprang to his feet.
"Stay awhile, father," said Soa, catching his cloak, "what is your plan?"
"My plan? To drag them to the temple and denounce them. What else is there to do?"
"And thereby denounce yourself also, who proclaimed them gods. I think I have a better."
"Tell it then, daughter."
"It is this. Do you pass in before the gods this day, speak humbly to the gods, praying them to change the face of the heavens that the sun may shine; telling them also that strange talk has come to your ears by the mouth of Saga and the other women, of words that have been spoken by the god Jal, which would seem to show that he is no god, but that of this you believe nothing as yet. Then say to them that if the face of the heavens remains grey on the morrow, you will know that this talk is true, and that they will be brought to the temple, there to be judged and dealt with according to the finding of the people, who have heard these things also."
"And what if the weather should change, daughter?"
"It will not change yet awhile; but if that should chance, we must make another plan."
"Just now I swore to you that I would not harm her whom you love, and yet, daughter, if she is proved to be a false goddess in the face of all the multitude, how shall she escape harm, for then her end must be quick and terrible?"
"She shall escape because she will not be there, father. You have seen the white man with her—not the Deliverer, the other. Were that man dressed in the robes of Aca, and sat on high upon the head of the statue when the light is low, who should say that he was not Aca?"
"Then you would give all the others to death, daughter?"
"Nay, I would save the Deliverer alive, for a while at least."
"And wherefore? You are too subtle for me."
"For this reason, father; he loves her who is named Aca, and trusts to marry her, to marry her fully according to the custom of his people: therefore I would that he should see her given to another."
"To another! To whom then?"
"To Olfan the king, who also loves her."
Now Nam held up his hands in perplexity, saying:
"Oh! my daughter, be plain, I pray of you, for I cannot understand your counsels. Were it not better to give to these people the red stones which they desire, and send them secretly from the land, saying that they had vanished into the earth again, for so it seems to me we should be rid of much shame and trouble?"
"Listen, my father, and I will tell you. Were she whom I love to leave this land, I should see her face no more, and this madness has come upon me that I cannot live without the sight of her. Also, how can these people escape the dangers of the road? But four of them are left alive, and even were they without our borders, they must journey for three months before they come to any place where white men live, passing through swamps and deserts and tribes of wild men. This they could hardly do with arms such as those whereby the Deliverer slew the priests, and now their arms are gone, you alone know where, my father."
"The instruments of which you speak lie in the deep waters of the temple pool, daughter, for there I caused them to be cast."
"Their arms are gone," said Soa, "they are alone, here they must live or die. Three of them I will give to death, and the fourth I would make the wife of the King, seeing that nothing better can be done for her. Let her be hidden awhile, and then let Olfan take her. As for the tale that we shall tell of the matter to the ears of the people, doubtless time will show it. I say that Olfan loves her and will buy her with a great price, and the price which you must ask shall be that henceforth he obeys you in everything."