"_Lies and again lies, O children of the Prophet! A mockery of lies! The Sultan Willem is a servant of Shaitan who feigneth religion that he may lure true believers to their damnation while they unwittingly serve the Evil One!_" His perception leaped up, clawing at danger, and then was dragged down again, engulfed. He felt himself like a man drowning in black waters at night--down--down--and then, fighting obscurely, he shot up again, heard the inexorable voice continuing: "_This magic you have looked upon is a false magic--the magic of unbelievers in league with Eblis!_" He heard the re-echoing denunciation in a spasm of full consciousness--was suddenly cognizant of the sea of faces, of fierce passions exhaling from it--was completely aware of the menace of utter ruin. A great revulsion surged in him. This must be stopped--stopped! The necessity for instant protest was an anguish in him. All of himself that he could summon from the darkness as his own shrieked the negative, and yet he did not utter a sound--knew that he did not. "_Climb up into that box some of you, and ye shall find no magic but a Frank there!_" He strained with all his soul towards the faculty of speech--felt his powers vanquishing the spell of dumbness--on the verge of utterance shaped his words of denial. "_Lo! have I not spoken the truth? Yea, I cannot speak other than the truth, for I am the runaway servant of Muhammed Din, and his sanctity hath broken the compact between me and the Evil One!_" In staggering horror he realized--_the voice was his own_! He stood fixed, incapable of movement, and saw--like a man that has dreamed and cannot yet distinguish dream from reality--the mob of tribesmen surging obscurely in the long stone room, saw the blinding white eye of the lantern still shining steadfastly upon him--saw it waver, swing from side to side, and then, with one last blinding flash, disappear. In the utter darkness he heard shouts and shrieks and fierce derisive laughter. He heard crash upon crash as heavy objects were flung from a height at the other end of the room. He heard a piercing yell, an agonized, appealing utterance of his own name. For a brief second it shocked him into complete consciousness--_his operator_! Then, ere he could break his invisible bonds, he felt a pair of cool hands pressed tightly against his brow, over his eyes, and he relapsed totally--with a last little gasp--into nothingness.