the sanctuary of his own pagan goddess, with arms outstretched, murmuring some heathen prayer.
There was long and deathlike silence in the great edifice. Maat-kha had probably gone, taking her conscience with her—if indeed she had any; the high priest had finished muttering his prayers, and I watched—like a caged beast—Hugh's deadly enemy exulting over his anticipated triumph. I would not allow myself to reflect over the deadly peril of my position, My only thought was one of horror for the diabolical cunning of the plot, which apparently stood such a good chance of success. For the woman I had more of pity than of loathing or contempt. The high priest, with wonderful art, had known how to touch and play upon every sensitive and quivering chord of a highly passionate nature, had with sagacious dexterity roused every jealous instinct in her heart, until, blinded by her own passions, she had given herself over, body and soul, to his guidance.
No!—I don't think I reflected much upon my own danger. When thoughts of it rushed across my mind, I succeeded in speedily dismissing them. I could not do with such thoughts, for all must tend towards the future, upon how best I could save both my friend and myself. I cursed my own folly, my dilatoriness, the stupid way in which I had allowed myself to be trapped. How long I should remain merely a prisoner I could not of course conjecture, nor did I know whether my precarious position was the result of design or accident.
At the marriage ceremony Hugh would face the sanctuary, in the centre of the building, more than a hundred feet away from where I was, and probably with the gauze curtain between me and him, but I trusted to my lung power and to his presence of mind … if … I was left alive until then.
