There was worse to come. Following upon the heels of the contorting sorcerers, came a number of warriors--from the interest with which those already on the ground jumped up to stare at them, obviously new arrivals. On they came, pouring forward in an open column, their number seemed to be unending; and now these too, clashing their sticks upon their shields, began to take up the song of the Abantwana Mlimo. Lamont listened eagerly as it swelled higher and louder, then turned to his companion, his face dark with bitterness. "Just as I said, too late now. They are clamouring for our lives, egged on of course by those infernal sorcerers; and they'll get what they want, too, for Zwabeka is nothing like strong enough to defy a number like that." The situation from one of relief and hope had become appalling. Below, these human beasts, hundreds and hundreds of them, stamping their feet, roaring, waving their tufted shields, flashing their blades, as they bellowed forth, in a kind of improvised rhythm, their bloodthirsty petition. Others, too, were joining them; but above all the shrill, yelling voices of the sorcerers rose high and unflagging. Any moment the wild rout might break out of hand, and then-- "Well, Father, I have sunk your ship with mine," said Lamont bitterly. "If you hadn't come here to look after me you'd have been safe at Madula's now." "Yes? But where safety and duty take different paths, we must follow the latter," was the tranquil reply. Lamont looked at him with admiration. Here was a man of the pattern of the old-time saint and martyr, if ever there was one, he thought. "I am done for, but it is possible they may not harm you," he said. "If you see--her--again, tell her you saw the last of me." The frightful racket of the blood-song had become deafening now. A glance forth served to show that many of the clamouring rout had faced round, and were flourishing shields and weapons in the direction of their retreat. "It may be any minute now," he went on. Then, vehemently, "Father, I would like to die in Clare's faith." "And if you live, would you _live_ in it?" "To the end of my days. I have been thinking a good deal about things since I have been lying here." The two were looking each other straight in the face. That of the priest had brightened as though by a semi-supernatural irradiation. "It may not be too late now," he said. It was not. Something was done--not much, but sufficient. Something was said--not much, but sufficient under the circumstances, as sufficient indeed as though that pile of boulders had been a cathedral. And no sooner was that so than the whole roaring, stamping rout came surging up to the opening. But, barring the said opening, stood ten men with levelled guns, foremost among them the faithful Ujojo. "Back!" cried the latter in stentorian tones. "You only enter here over us dead ones. But you will enter over even more of your own dead ones first."