How Rhodes and I, as we sat there, wished that we could understand the words being spoken!
"Always, O Drorathusa," said Brendaldoombro, "has your spirit been strange and wayward. Always have you been a seeker after that which is dark and mysterious. And, of a truth, dark and mysterious is the evil which you have now brought upon Drome.
"Never content with what it is given us to know! Always seeking the obscure! Sometimes, I fear, even that which is forbidden!"
At those words the eyes of Drorathusa flashed, but she made no answer.
"Cursed was that hour—cursed, I say, be that peeking and searching and peering that discovered it to your eyes, that record of those who, led on by the powers of the Evil One, ventured up into the caves of darkness and at last up into the world above itself—a world, as our holy writings tell us, of fearful and nameless things, of demons who, to achieve their purpose"—here he fixed his vulture eye upon Milton and me—"assume the shapes of men.
"But you must needs find that record, that writing which never should have been written. And you must needs turn a deaf ear to our words of counsel and admonition. You must needs beg and beseech and implore our permission to go yourself up into those fearful places and there see with your own eyes whether that in the writing was true or false. And we, alas, in an evil hour and one of weakness—yes, we did yield to your importunities and your wicked interpretation of our sacred writings and suffer you to go forth."
It seems, however, that just the opposite was the truth—that Brendaldoombro, fearing the growing popularity and power of this extraordinary woman, had been only too glad to see her start for the caverns of darkness, from the black mysteries of which he, of course, had hoped that neither she nor a single one of her companions would ever return.
"Yes, evil was the hour in which you went forth, O Drorathusa the Wayward One. And evil is this in which we see these demons in the shapes of men sitting in our very midst, before the very throne of our queen. Already has God shown His anger, shown it in this darkness which has sent fear to the stoutest heart—this darkness the like of which no living man has ever known in Drome.
"Nor," he went on, his voice rising, "will the divine wrath be softened so long as we, undutiful children that we are, suffer them to live—these devils that have come amongst us in the forms of men! Death!" His voice rose until the hall rang with the fierce tones. "Death to them, I say! Let death be swift and sure! And thus will Drome be spared sorrows, blood and miseries that, else, will wring the heart of the babe new-born and cause it to rise up and fearfully curse father and mother for bringing it into a world of such madness and wo!"
The effect of this impassioned and fiendish outburst was instantaneous and fearful. Something that was like a groan, a growl and a roar filled that great room. One who has never heard it could never believe that so fearful a sound could come from human throats. The Dromans sprang to their feet—not men and women now, but metamorphosed by the cunning and diablerie of Brendaldoombro into veritable fiends.
"We're in for it, Bill!" cried Milton, springing to his feet and whipping out his revolver.
I sprang to his side, and we faced them.
Drorathusa, with a fierce cry, threw herself between us and the crowd.
