CHAPTER XVII
THE THRONE OF THE SNAKE
Chun passed swiftly through the passages and courtyards of the Wat, his head held high, his shoulders swinging a little, his gait lithe and buoyant—every movement of his body and limbs betokening the immense reserves of physical energy that were latent within him. Youth and health were his, endowing him with courage and with force; yet was his mind freighted with almost intolerable burdens.
The sights, of which he was a daily witness, told an uncompromising story of the utter demoralisation of the people. The ceaseless jibes and taunts of old Slat stirred into a tortur- ing restlessness his sense of responsibility for all that had befallen. The foresight with which he was cursed forbade him to ignore the sure calamities that lay ambushed in the future, by which the populace would presently be beset, if nought could be done to allay or check the dementia which had seized upon. them.
The necessity for action was imperative, if the mob were to be saved from the results of their
